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I remember my first day of school. I was ten and nobody wanted to be my friend because of my face. I didn't blame them, if I was them, I wouldn't want to be friends with me either. But it wasn't my fault.
My father, one drunken night, entered my room and cut a scar into my cheek that went from the bottom of my chin and curved up into my right eye brow. You can imagine the pain and utter betrayal a child could feel against their parent. It hurt and I was never the same again. Kids would laugh at me and I would just sit on the play ground all alone during recess. I never spoke them because they would just ask me about my face. I hated everyone and I hated my father. I hated my chocolate skin because everyone hates my face, I hated my mom because she couldn't protect me, and I wanted to die.
"Why are you sitting here all alone?" he asked and I slowly looked up to see a puffy, round white skinned, blonde haired boy looking down at me wearing a red mask that looked like a devil. His face was fat from what I could see and his hair is long and in his hand was a small bag. He wore some type of super hero shirt under an orange and black jacket with blue jeans. He just looked at me through his mask's eye holes with charming blue eyes and he blinked. I only shrugged.
"Why not?" I asked and just looked away as if bashful. Maybe he didn't expect me to reply.
"I…um, want to see my mask?" he suddenly asked, and I looked up at him now with confusion. Was this boy stupid? Or was he making fun of me? Well I had heard all the insults in the world so why not?
"Sure." I replied lowly, and he smiled and sat down beside me and removed the mask from his large face and showed me. It was a clown mask that only covered the eyes with a red clown nose on it. I nodded not really interested in it then I looked at him.
"It's nice." I replied and he smiled showing small teeth.
"I make masks." he told, and I only nodded and rested my chin back on my arms. I wish I had a hobby. "What happened to your face?" I looked at him now and for once I didn't see a vicious smile on his face, like he was preparing to laugh at me. He looked genuinely curious. Why not tell?
"My father cut my face." I replied and he nodded with mild light eyes and then moved his hand into his bag.
"I'm sorry to hear that. My step dad's a dick, too." he said sharply, and my eyes widened at the word he used. I rarely hear that word said around my house anyways. He then held out a mask that was zebra striped that covered the entire face. "Here have this." I tilted my head now at the gesture as I looked at the mask.
"Why?" I asked then frowned. "I didn't think my face was that hideous." I got up and the boy watched me.
"No wait. I didn't mean it like that…I'm the one who's ugly. I wear masks to hide my ugliness." he admitted, and I frowned and touched his face and he seemed shocked by the action. He stood as still as a statue.
"You aren't scarred." I replied. He stared at me for a moment and suddenly just touched my face. I froze up now as his fingers gently outlined my scar. I almost wanted to cry.
"We both are. In our own ways…" he said before lifting up the zebra mask again. I looked down at it and slowly took it.
"Why are you giving me this?" I asked, and he shrugged.
"You are just like me." he said calmly, and I only looked at the mask and took it from him.
"Um…thank you." I replied and he nodded and smiled.
"I'm Michael…Michael Myers." he told. I was surprised at his smile and how genuine it was. I looked at the mask for a moment examining it. "Now you tell me your name."
I looked up at him.
"Kyra…Kyra Deville." I answered. And once our names were exchanged, I never knew I would be thrown into such a world filled with darkness and death.
(Author's Notes)
I am reuploading this fic because I did miss writing it and after seeing the new Halloween movie I decided I am going to be continuing it as much as I can and going more in depth with Kyra and Michael. More updates coming.