Hi guys! Sooo I thought this up one night after watching Halloween, started writing at work one day, and behold - this is the result. It's just a different take on the ending of Rob Zombie's remake, where Laurie doesn't go completely nutso after she shoots Michael. Hope everyone enjoys! And also, the quote in the description was said by Rob Zombie himself, during his commentary of the movie - I don't own itI thought it was fitting for the story *over and out*
It had been three weeks, and the scars still hadn't completely healed.
The physical ones, she was referring to. The stitches were still deeply imbedded in her skin, and if she moved her face just the right way, she could feel the skin begin to split. Scarring was inevitable - she didn't need the doctors to tell her that. Physical and mental. While the physical scars were merely cosmetic, the mental scars were deeper than the sharpest knife.
Three weeks, and she still hadn't been able to shake this. To shake him.
Laurie Strode closed her eyes to her reflection. She should've known better; when she closed her eyes, he loomed larger than ever. The dark circles under her eyes were proof of that - she hadn't slept well in three weeks (some nights, she hadn't slept at all). But really, who the hell blamed her?
Even now, Laurie wanted to go back in time and close her eyes to some of the things she'd seen... She'd never considered herself to be a sheltered child. She wasn't the most worldly seventeen year old, granted, but her parents had usually let her experience things that a normal teenager should be able to...
God, her parents.
Or were they? She wasn't sure about anything, anymore.
Laurie, in the midst of being rushed to the hospital after the incident, had overheard someone - be it a cop, paramedic - mention something about a family history of mental illness, and the Strodes had managed to keep her from being like a woman named Deborah and a man named Michael for so long...
She was taking a wild guess, but she was pretty sure she wasn't supposed to hear that. She didn't even know what it meant.
Whatever it was, it led her to think of the absurd possibility that the Strodes were not her real parents... something she had never even considered until now.
And that man - the one who, after terrorizing her for one night, now seemed to perpetually terrorize her every night in her head. Who was he? And what on Earth did he want from her?
Laurie knew, looking at her tired, crazy-eyed reflection in the mirror, that somehow, all of this was connected. Part of her wanted to brush everything under the rug, and just forget what had happened. Another part of her knew that she wouldn't be able to move on if she didn't find out what the fuck was going on around here. And she also knew who she'd have to ask. The white haired man who had tried to save her- she prayed bhe would be able to answer her questions. He had called the nightmare nale form Michael - she didn't think it was a coincidence that she had heard that name before. The white haired man, Dr. Loomis, had told Michael that 'it wasn't Laurie's fault', and to 'let her go'. What exactly was 'it', and why would this giant man, whom she'd never met in her life, think that she was somehow responsible?
Dr. Loomis knew something she didn't. She had to get these things figured out. She would never find peace, otherwise.
Laurie looked at her reflection in the mirror. Seeing the scars up close, for some reason, brought tears to her eyes. Why did this happen to me? She didn't care that she was 'feeling sorry for herself' - she had every fucking reason to.
And now, she had a feeling she was going to feel even sorrier when she uncovered a truth that it seemed everyone knew but her.