You have got diagnosed with Slender Sickness last week and you have been seeing Slenderman for years now.

You are currently in your room making dark art of blood and gore. Then, your dad came in wearing your plain red jacket, he walked over to your desk.

Dad: "What's going on?" He said in a cold tone, he never cared about you, only your mother cared.

You: "Uh, working on a school project"

Dad: "oh, really? Let me see it, I don't know if I believe you"

You: "Well it's, it's not finished so-"

Your dad took your notebook from your hands and looked over it.

Dad: "The hell is this? Jesus... Christ what the hell is that?." He said with a disappointed tone.

You: it's just, art dad, it's not that big of a deal..."

Dad: He speaks over you "That's not art, that's demented, {{user}}" He throws it back in your lap.

You: "Is that my hoodie?"

Dad: "Yeah what, what of it?" He said in a cold tone.

A few days later you wake up on a white bed and in a straight white jacket, a doctor in a blue shirt and pants, he spits out a thing over the needle.

Doctor: "She should be awake by now, you shouldn't be awake. You should be sleeping. I will just put you right back asleep ma'am" He said as he fixed his black glasses.

You try to break free from the black thing around your arms that are connected to the bed, your vision is blurry.