Candor And Curiosity (A Slenderman Romance)

Chapter 20

It was then that I wondered, did Author hate me?

I had thought many times as a little girl that he really did. Then there were others time when I knew he didn't.

Either way, that didn't matter to me so much as the fact that he had changed so much physically.

Contact lenses? Hair dye?

That was the only logical explanation for such a dramatic change.

But maybe that wasn't Author? Maybe that was just some random guy who happened to get his hands on your bracelet?

This was also not true, because though he might have changed his appearance, there were certain mannerisms he hadn't gotten rid of.

Aside from this, however, I could safely say that I didn't know this new Author very well.

And I wasn't sure if I wanted to.

**********

September 17, 1978

It was a bleak and cloudy afternoon, and a cold, heavy wind swept through the schoolyard, tossing the fallen autumn leaves across the large expanse of freshly-cut green grass.

The little boy and the little girl sat in their usual spot under the oak-tree, isolated from everyone else in their own little world.

The little boy was reading a book, as he usually did everyday at recess, while the little sat quietly beside him, absorbed in her own thoughts and emotions.

It had been like this for the past two days, and the unusual silence had not gone unnoticed by the little boy, who had grown quite accustomed to her incessant chatter. Nevertheless, he focused his attention on deciphering the words of his book.

"Author, what's your family like?" The little girl suddenly asked, and he jolted in surprise.

"Why do you want to know?" He snapped, keeping his nose buried inside the book.

"Because you never talk about them. Not ever. Not even when the teachers ask us to write about our families. You always avoid the subject." She said thoughtfully, worry written all over her face.

"If I won't tell my teachers, why would I tell you?" He spat, shaking his head at her foolishness.

"Because... we're friends. We have been for two years, yet I still know nothing about your family," she said thoughtfully.

The little boy sighed and snapped his book shut before pulling himself onto his feet.

Whenever he didn't want to answer her questions, he had made it his habit to walk away.

"What was your life like before you came to America?" she persisted, standing up to follow him.

"Just drop it." He said, walking away from her.

The little girl wanted answers, and if following him around all day was the only way to get them, she would follow him to the ends of the earth.

"What's your mother like?"

"I said stop!"

"Do you have any siblings? A sister, or a brother?"

"Shut up, idiot!"

"What's your dad like?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"He's a horrible bastard and I hate everything about him!" He shouted, turning back towards her with angry eyes. "Are you happy now? Will you finally shut up now?"