"Slender Man...?" Tommy asked in confusion, "That's what you call him? That man... er, that thing attacked you, too?"
I shuddered, and I started crying a little. Charlie answered for me. "Lyle was," he said, "And he hasn't really been the same since." Tommy nodded, and tried to comfort me, only to join me in my weeping. Charlie attempted to help, but he couldn't fully understand what we were going through. We appreciated the thought, but it just didn't work.
When we had calmed ourselves a little, Charlie got up. He looked down at us, and he said, "Well, Tommy, I think that we need to get you home. Your parents will be worried about you, and you're gonna need to clear things up for the police; let them know that they don't have to send out a search party. We'll stop by your house tomorrow to talk."
On that note, we reluctantly stood up, and we left the park. Tommy's place was a few miles away, so we took a bus. The other passengers gave us a few looks, because of his torn clothing and tangled hair, but it was nothing that we couldn't handle. We got off fifteen minutes later, and walked the rest of the way to his house. Tommy's mother opened the door to us in surprise. She didn't see Tommy at first, because he was behind us. "Hello," she said, "If you're looking for Tommy, he's not here. I don't know where he is." She started sobbing.
"We do." I said. I moved aside to let her see her son.
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