Dexter Morgenstern - The Slender Man

Sheriff Fraser stands in the doorway, hands on his belt, staring at the ground as if he is thinking about something. Is he looking for a culprit? Someone he can arrest? The sheriff is a little overweight, and has thinning black hair. His khaki uniform pants are wet at the bottom, so he must have actually gone to the crash site. “Did they say who’s responsible?” asks Rita Larch. The sheriff shakes his head, “Looks like Douglas just ran off the bridge. Might have swerved to avoid a deer or something,” answers the sheriff in his deep voice.

You’d think by his voice he’d have a moustache or beard, but he’s cleanly shaven, unlike all of the other men in the room. It seems that the sheriff is the only person that looks fully kempt aside from the water on his pants. Mom is still in her pajamas and it even looks like Dad just threw on yesterday’s clothes, and it’s a similar situation with the Hawthorns.

“So arrest him. He was driving irresponsibly! He doesn’t deserve medical treatment!” says Rita. She’s known for causing ruckus’s over little things, so I can only imagine the kind of hell she’ll raise over this.

“Ma’am I can’t do that,” says the sheriff, raising his hand as if to calm her.

“Then what good are you? You arrest my son for ‘loitering’, but you won’t even arrest the man who killed a dozen children?” she yells. “Ma’am I’m here to get the facts. I need to make sure that there was no hit and run—”

“Of course there was no hit and run! He doesn’t know how to steer a bus. He’s too dumb to—”

“Ma’am, don’t interrupt me. Douglas has been a bus driver here for eight—”

“Don’t interrupt my mom!” roars Jason, as he angrily approaches the sheriff. The sheriff may be out-of-shape, but he’s way over six feet tall, and puts even taller kids like Jason to shame, so it’s weird to see the threatening gaze Jason’s giving him.

Deputy Yew steps in and interrupts the bickering to speak to the sheriff. I can’t hear what they are saying, but I half suspect that his goal is to pull the sheriff out of that sticky situation rather than inform him of anything important. When the scene is over, I look back at the clock. Only another seven minutes has passed. I look at the ground, wondering how long the surgery will take when I hear footsteps and see a shadow approach. I look back up and see a female doctor with her face mask pulled down to her chin. She has a certain subtle smile that can only mean one thing, and I lighten up when I see it.

“Redwood family? I’m Doctor Spruce,” she introduces.

“Our son? Is he okay?” Mom asks.

“He lost a lot of blood in the crash, got a lot of water in his lungs, and his left arm is broken, but he’s stable. We’re going to have to keep him for a couple days, but it looks like he’ll make it,” explains the doctor.

It takes a second for the news to sink into my parents, so Bubbe is the first to stand up and thank her graciously. I follow suit, but I’m so happy to hear that he’s okay that I give her a tight hug before saying “Thank you.” I feel tears in my eyes, and can tell the tears have been waiting, ready to hear about the loss of my brother, but now they are spilling out as tears of joy. My parents are sharing their appreciation when the perfect family is there to ruin the moment.

“Hello? Kenny? What about him?” snaps Jason. Doctor Spruce looks around to face Jason. She is hesitant to answer him, because you can tell she’s ready to snap back. “We are still working on the others,” she finally says.

“Then chop-chop, let’s go!” demands Jason, clapping his hands together fiercely. I catch a look from Shana that I understand instantly. It means “Why do his parents let him act like that?” Shana’s family is in the same position as the Larch’s, but you don’t see them snapping and yelling. Dr. Spruce looks like she’s about to slap him when a nurse with a little blood on his scrubs, rushes out and makes eye contact with her, shaking his head and pointing his thumb back into the ward.

I can’t translate the message he gave her like the way I do with Shana, but I know it means bad news for someone. Both of them rush into the intensive care ward without a word. I look at Shana and see that same look of dread renew in her gaze. She might not have the relief I just received. We wait another five, ten, fifteen minutes? It’s too long to want to keep count. Eventually, a lone doctor comes out of the ward, with a grim look across his face. This must be Dr. Bad News .

“Hawthorn family?” he asks, looking over at the Hawthorns. They all look at him, but don’t say a word.

“Would you come with me please?” he says. They all rise and follow him, not to the intensive care ward, but down the hall. A pit falls into my stomach. There’s no use pretending that the worst didn’t happen. No self-respecting doctor would lead a family on like that just to say “She’s okay!” at the end.

The nurse from earlier comes through, with a look on his face equally as grim as the doctor. He turns and looks at the Larches, but he doesn’t get to say a word before they realize what happened. Jason steps out and looks at the ground. The parents both hold each other. The nurse stops, realizing that they already know what happened.

“I’m sorry. We tried our best, and it looked like he was going to make it but—”

“The driver? Did he die too?” asks Rita. The doctor opens his mouth as if to answer, but then hesitates. I know what he’s thinking: The driver’s okay, but that’s not news to tell people like the Larch’s.

“I’m sorry, but we can’t release confidential information like that to anyone but relatives and police,” he says. Jason looks up from the ground and glares at him. He may be idiotic, but he’s not totally oblivious to the facts. He shoves the doctor and rushes into the ward. I jump to my feet. He’s going to try and hurt Mr. Mario! Both of his parents rush in behind him, but I’m not sure if they’re going to stop Jason, help him, or just watch.

I hear loud footsteps and see both the sheriff and Deputy Yew rushing down the hall to stop him. I take a step forward as if to help, but what am I going to do against a guy like Jason that the police can’t? I hear shouting and yells of surprise and objects breaking and slamming. There’s a serious fight going on in there. Before I can figure out just how much damage Jason is doing I see Shana approaching. Her eyes are wide open, and before I can even think about what to say I rush over and hug her. She muffles her sobs in my jacket, and I can feel the warmth of her tears against my neck. I think of a million things I can say to try to make her feel better, but I don’t want to belittle the justifiable grief she is wracked by. I can’t find anything to say but

“I’m sorry.” It comes out in a choke and I have to try multiple times to successfully force it out. I try to think of something else to say that wouldn’t be redundant, but nothing comes to mind, and honestly, if it was the other way around, I don’t think anything Shana could say would dull the pain. Words can’t cure this kind of loss. Her parents remain down the hall.

I’m still hugging Shana when the door bursts open. I completely blocked out the noise the Larch’s were making. Jason has a bloody nose and is cuffed, being pushed by Deputy Yew who can barely contain him.

“Help! Police brutality! Police brutality!” shouts Rita, but not one of us believes her.

“He doesn’t deserve to live while my brother dies!” shouts Jason. I can hear Martin trying to reason with the sheriff, who’s walking out behind them with a paper towel against his lip. Jason must have hit the sheriff.