Dexter Morgenstern - The Slender Man

“What happened?” I ask.

“The bus went off the road, and crashed into the Valley River” she says, looking at the floor.

“How bad is it?” I ask. She shakes her head.

“They said that some of the kids were killed, and others are hurt, and have been rushed to the hospital,” she continues.

I grab her hands and stare into her face.

“Who? Who did they take to the hospital?” I asked fiercely. I’m not just worried for her, but for Adam as well. My parents didn’t say whether or not he was okay, just that they were going to the hospital. She looks up at me.

“I don’t know, they haven’t released names,” she answers.

“Well then there’s still hope. Denise and Adam could be at the hospital,” I say, trying to reassure both her and myself. She looks at me and shakes her head.

“But Denise can’t swim,” she says softly, and leans forward onto me. I hold her to my chest while she cries. Adam can’t swim well either though. We’ve been to lakes before but he’s always been heavily supervised. He wouldn’t be able to swim out of a bus. Then again, most parts of the Valley River you can walk through, but if it ran into the deeper section. Or if the bus were on its side letting it fill with water…

My heart sinks at the thought, but before I give up, my phone rings again.

“Are you home yet?” Mom asks. “Yeah, yeah. What about Adam?” I ask.

“Adam’s at the hospital,” she says. “Is he okay?” I ask, relieved.

“No, we don’t know if he’ll make it, but you need to come down here,” she says. Shana can hear the conversation too.

“And… Denise?” she asks. “Who is that? Shana?” Mom asks.

“Yes is Denise at the hospital too?” I ask for her.

“We don’t know. Her parents haven’t arrived yet, and they only told us when we got here that Adam arrived. He’s in surgery,” she says.

“Surgery? I thought it fell in the water,” I say. “The water isn’t too deep, so most of the damage was from the crash. Some kids did drown but others were still alive,” she explains.

“You need to come. Your brother needs you,” Mom continues.

“How do I get there?” I ask. Andrews must be almost twenty minutes away, by car.

“Sheriff Fraser says he’s sending someone to pick you two up. Just wait at home,” she says.

“Okay Mom,” I say, trying to convince myself that Adam will be okay.

“Love you,” she says, before hanging up. I put the phone down and release Shana. She lies back against the wall and slumps into a sitting position on the floor, almost unblinking. “Shana, she might be okay. Chances are they were sitting next to each other, and if Adam is still alive then Denise should—”

“Just stop,” she interrupts. “I don’t want to think about it,” she says, her voice melding into a sob. She’s hyperventilating and squeezing her eyes shut now, trying to hold back tears. It’s clear she isn’t convinced that her sister made it, and now she’s trying to force the thought out of her head.

“Let’s hope for a miracle,” I say, more to her than myself.

I go into my room and look at how disheveled I look already. My skin is normally pretty tan from being outside a lot, but the color is drained from my face and I’m a ghostly pale white right now. I can even see residue from my sweat mixing with tears around my eyes

“That cop needs to hurry,” I say to myself. The tension is eating away at me and the helplessness, the fact that there’s nothing I can do until I get to the hospital gives me a headache. Maybe I should try Shana’s method? I think. I look around the room, trying to find something to keep my mind on other than the fate of my brother, and find Shana’s street clothes lying on my bed. I should change out of these sweaty clothes, I think. I fumble around my drawers picking up a blue T-shirt, not even bothering to look and see what image is on it, and some jeans. It would be ideal to shower off before getting into clean clothes, but I don’t think I have that kind of time, which is a good thing. After changing (tossing my exercise clothes onto the floor), I take my hair out of the ponytail, and try brushing it. My movements are jittery, making it more difficult than it should be to simply smooth my hair out. I hear a knock on the door which makes me jump. I hurry, grab my shoes and purse, and rush downstairs. Shana is already at the door speaking to the officer there.

“Ms. Redwood?” asks the man grimly when he sees me come down.

“Yes?” I say, approaching him. He’s young for a cop, and also pretty scrawny. He has short dirty blonde hair, and his eyes are covered by shades. He’s got some cuts on his face, so it looks like he shaved in a hurry today. He sticks his hand out.

“I’m Deputy Yew, call me Terrence. I’m here to take you to your family,” he introduces. I shake his hand and nod, not sure what to say but

“Thank you.”

“Follow me ladies,” he says, and Shana and I get into the back of his police cruiser. I put my shoes on during the ride and slowly tie the laces. I almost don’t have the energy to rise back up, until Shana reaches for my hand and I sit back up, letting her rest her head on me. Deputy Yew doesn’t speak much during the ride, but I can tell he’s speeding, rushing us to the hospital, so it must be that he’s focusing on the road. I look over at Shana, staring absentmindedly at the back of the front seat, and can tell she’s still taking the news worse than I am.

“It’ll be okay,” I say, hoping I’m not lying.

The minute hand hits twelve, causing the small hand to move up just another notch. It’s nine in the morning now. The accident happened around two hours ago, and I’ve been waiting in the hospital with no news other than the fact that Adam is one of the survivors. He is one of four people recovered alive from the scene. The other three are Shana’s sister, the driver Mr. Mario, and a boy named Kenny Larch. All of them were badly injured and are being taken care of, but the doctors don’t appear too certain that they’ll all make it. I look around the room. We are in an alcove in the hallway just outside the intensive care ward. The families that the bad news was given to are outside or have gone already. The hospital staff gave us chairs from the cafeteria to sit in while we wait.

To my left is my family, all looking just as worried as me. On the other side of the hall is Shana’s family, and next to them are the Larch’s. Jason Larch, their oldest son, goes to our school. He’s a year older than me, but still in my grade, and he’s pretty big for his age. No one really likes him though. I won’t say he’s a bully, but he’s very rude to everyone. He is half white, half Hispanic, but he pretends he’s fully Hispanic. He has a badly shaped half-grown moustache that he refuses to shave even though it won’t grow enough to form a full one.

He is leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over the long red sports jersey that I don’t think he ever takes off, and some black cut-off shorts. He’s staring at the ground angrily, and looks like the slightest tick will set him off. His father Martin is standing next to him, but with a more worried look than angry, unlike his son, and next to him is his wife Rita. Despite all of the people in the hallway, the room is very quiet, and I can actually faintly hear the wall clock ticking.

I hear voices coming from the intensive care ward and my eyes lighten up as one of the doctors emerges. He’s speaking with Sheriff Fraser.

“…So there were no other parties involved in the crash? He just ran off the side of the road?” asks the sheriff.

“Sir, I really don’t know, all I can say is that he doesn’t appear to be under the influence of any drugs or alcohol. We’ll be able to tell you more when he wakes up, but for now we have to see to the other patients,” says the doctor before turning and reentering the ward.