Oct. 1, 1998
Somerset was a quite little town, nestled just outside the heart of Illinois. The only difference between it and Haddonfield was its history; so dull and lifeless. As far as Laurie Strode was concerned, that was enough. All she wanted was a safe place to hide with her son John, and Somerset fit the bill.
Laurie awoke in a haze on this Monday morning, just like all the mornings that had come before. She usually operated on three hours of sleep and considered herself lucky if she got five.
She hit the snooze button, trying to muffle the blaring horn of her alarm clock, but it was no use. The sun that peaked through her window blinded her with its rays. It must've been a tag-team challenge.
Laurie slowly sat up, wiping the cold sweat off her forehead. By now it became routine for her to wake up numerous times throughout the night, screaming, as she tried to outrun her past. But last night's strayed from the usual set. To Laurie it seemed more like a premonition than a memory.
She put it out of her mind as she got up and stood before a floor length mirror. Noticing her blue pajama top was also drenched, she took it off and threw it on the bed, leaving her in nothing but her grey bottoms and a blue sports bra.
Laurie sighed. She barely recognized the woman in the mirror. Physically, she was still as lean as she was at seventeen, but the spark that had once illuminated her younger self had long been dead. 'I guess that's what happens when you're running for your life,' Laurie said.
Turning slightly, she examined the decades old scar, which her brother had bestowed upon her left arm. Laurie closed her eyes, fending off the haunting memories that longed to flood her psyche. "Not today."
She dressed in a black and tan pantsuit with matching black pumps. Her mid-length light brown hair was pulled back into a bun, and she accentuated her features with the appropriate makeup. Laurie certainly looked the part of a headmistress of a private school, although she didn't feel like one.
As she entered the kitchenette, John greeted her with a warm cup of coffee. He had already finished his breakfast and was dressed for school.
"Good morning mom," he said, handing her the coffee. "How'd you sleep?"
Laurie graciously took the cup from her seventeen-year-old and sighed.
"Oh, you know…" she answered, not wanting to go in depth on her trauma induced insomnia. Besides, John knew enough.
"Sorry about that," he said. "I just wish I could help you ease the pain."
Laurie smiled. How she ever ended up with a son like John she didn't know.
"Do you want something else to eat? I can cut up some fruit," she offered.
"Sure." John opened the fridge and took out a cantaloupe. He placed it on a cutting board and turned to attend to the dishes.
Laurie chose a medium sized knife to cut with. She held the melon with her left hand and cut into the center with her right. The knife sliced through it like butter.
Over by the sink, John continued to unload the dishwasher. He gripped a wine glass and turned towards his mom.
"Don't forget to the change the calendar," he mentioned.
"What?" Laurie replied.
"The calendar. It's the first of October."
These words rang through Laurie's mind like a school bell, distracting her from the slicing. It only took a split second before she noticed the red viscous running from her index finger.
"Mom?" John said, wondering why she hadn't responded to his comment.
Laurie winced. The cut was small but her nerves were on high alert as a familiar memory flashed before her eyes:
Terrified, she backed into a corner of the upstairs hallway; having just discovered the corpses of her two best friends sprawled about the bedroom. Laurie sobbed uncontrollably, failing to notice the boogeyman hiding in the dark corridor behind her. He emerged slowly, his white mask becoming clearer as Laurie turned around. She screamed in horror as a butcher knife sliced her left arm…"
Laurie's consciousness faded with the memory as she hit the kitchen floor.
"Mom!" John exclaimed, alerted by the sudden thud.
He knelt by his mother's body, slightly shaking it, as he tried to wake her up.