Thank you all for your reviews! I'll try to have this story done before Thanksgiving!
NOTE: There will probably be grammar mistakes which I will fix later.
Also, strong language will be censored. Sorry, that's how I roll.
Although the hospital paid Sister Peneolpe to take care of Michael Myers, all of her earnings went to the church, which in turn provided her a stripend to cover minimum living expenses. As a nun, she took a vow of poverty, which served as a reminder that spiritual riches are much more important than material wealth. It wasn't an easy life, but it was the life she chose, and she never regretted it.
The apartment she lived in was only a few miles away from Smith's Grove, which was convenient. However, the living conditions there were terrible. All of the tenants had to share one bathroom on the third floor, which was rarely cleaned, and the ceiling in her room would leak during rainy days and nights. Sometimes she'd find rat droppings on her pillow and she had to check for bed bugs every night. And the rent was unreasonably high, though she suspected that the landlord was purposely making her pay a higher amount than the other tenants for whatever reason.
She walked up the stairs to the second floor where her room was, carrying the rag that used to be Thomas the bear until Michael ripped all the stuffing out of him. As she reached for the handle to her door, a familiar voice spoke from behind her.
"Hi, Sister."
Penelope smiled and turned around. "Hello, Carter."
Carter Levingston was an attractive young name with short, curly brown hair and blue eyes who lived across the hall from her. He was a good friend of Penelope, one of the very few that she had, and would occasionally have lunch or dinner with her. And like her, he lived in poverty and worked long hours as a janitor at a community college. He'd often joke that listening to the professors' lectures in the halls made him a little smarter every day.
"What's that in your hand?" Carter asked, pointing to the rag.
"It's a teddy bear," she said as she held up Thomas' head.
He raised an eyebrow and gave her a lopsided grin. "A teddy bear? It looks like a dog mauled it."
"A child did this, actually, at Smith's Grove."
"A kid did that? Jesus Chri-"
"What did I tell you about using the Lord's name in vain?" she scolded but had a smirk on her face.
"Oh, right," he smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, Sister. So...Smith's Grove, huh? How old is this kid, anyway?"
Penelope frowned and looked down at the rag with sad eyes. "Michael is only six years old, and he's there because he murdered his older sister on Halloween night."
Carter's eyes went big. "I...I'm sorry, he...he murdered his own sister? And he's only six? Damn. Lemme guess...abusive parents, right?"
"No. His parents are good people, actually. They go to church every Sunday and contribute to their community. His psychiatrist is trying to find out why he did it, but Michael is...a very quiet boy. He hasn't spoken a word since that night."
"And he's obviously very dangerous," Carter said as he gestured at the head of Thomas. "Has he ever attacked you?"
Penelope nodded with a grim expression. "Yes. Last night, he stabbed me in the shoulder with a fork. But...I don't think that he understands that it's wrong to hurt people, like he doesn't understand that it's wrong to destroy this bear. Someone has to help him understand."
"And that certain someone is you."
"I'll try, but I can't until he opens up to me and Dr. Loomis. If he doesn't, he'll be locked away from the world forever."
"But is that really a bad thing?" Carter asked, earning a shocked and disgusted look from Penelope. "I-I mean, considering what he did to his sister-"
Penelope wouldn't hear any more of it and turned back to her door. She didn't expect him to understand, but it was still a very insensitive thing to say, especially since he knew how much she loved children.
"W-Wait!" He rushed to her side and grabbed her hand before she reach the doorknob. "I'm sorry, Sister. Please don't be mad. I think what you're doing is a good thing. Really."
She pulled her hand out of his grasp and opened the door. "I know," she said simply before walking into the room and shutting the door behind her. Releasing a shaky breath, she ran straight to her small altar which composed of a miniature statue of the Holy Virgin Mary, a crucifix on the wall with a marble Christ hanging from it, several candles, and a painting of Saint Scholastica in a small picture frame. She quickly let the candles and knelt down in front of the alar with her hands folded in prayer.
"Mary, Mother most pure, and Joseph, caste guardian of the Virgin, to you I entrust the purity of my soul and my body. I beg you to plead with God for me that I may never for the remainder of my life soil my soul by any sin of impurity. I earnestly wish to be pure in thought..."
Ever since she became a Sister seven years ago, Penelope had remained celibate and fought the temptation to engage in sex in order to dedicate her life to serving God. But being around Carter made her feel certain...urges. And just now, the desire to be with the opposite sex became stronger after he touched her hand. Just one touch was all it took to make her feel weak and vulnerable to the sin of lust.
After praying fervently for half an hour, she took a needle and threat and proceeded to stuff Thomas again and sew him back together.
...
"Alright, Michael, let's try this again," Penelope placed Thomas in Michael's hands and stoked the boy's blonde hair. He looked down at the bear indifferently and didn't move a muscle. "You shouldn't hurt him. Thomas just wants to be your friend. Try being nice to him, okay?"
She knelt down next to him and looked up at him with soft eyes. The bright light from the window made his hair appear golden, and from her angle, he looked like an angel. Yet his eyes were dark and cold and emotionless.
"Do you like to draw, Michael?" Penelope asked. When Michael looked at her in response, she smiled warmly at him and stood back up. "Let's go draw some pictures." She took his hand and gently lifted him off the chair, and then she walked him to the table. There was a box of crayons and a small stack of papers waiting for them and Penelope sat across from Michael and took out a Bible to read as he worked. "You draw whatever you want, Michael. And take your time."
Michael immediately began to draw on a piece of paper, moving his arm slowly and intensely focused on his work. Penelope pretended to read her Bible the entire time, but she secretly watched him in amusement. She was thrilled to see Michael doing something other than look out the window all day, even when there was nothing to look at outside.
Finally, after twenty minutes of scribbling and coloring, Michael got up from his chair and walked over to her. He handed her the picture without saying a word, then went back to his seat. Penelope was completely taken back and a little horrified by what he had drawn. A little boy in a clown costume stood next to a woman who had nothing on, and her breasts were very...detailed. She was also covered with blood, as was the knife that the boy was holding.
She glanced up from the drawing to see Michael trying to stab Thomas with a crayon. With a frustrated sigh, she quickly took the bear from him. "Why, Michael?" she demanded. "Why do you keep trying to hurt everyone else? Are you wanting to see what would happen? Well, I'll tell you what happens. It makes everyone sad. It made your parents very sad after you stabbed your sister. And you know what's even worse? You killed her, Michael. You stabbed her too many times. And now she's dead. Do you understand? Dead!"
Realizing that losing her patience with him wasn't going to help things, she took a deep breath to recompose herself and held Thomas close to her chest. "It's all right if you hurt Thomas, because he's not real, and I can fix him every time you break him. But people are different. I can't fix every person you hurt. People are not toys for you to break. Do you understand?" She gently touched his cheek with motherly affection. "Please try to understand, Michael. Please?"
For a moment, Michael stared at the stuffed bear in Penelope's arms and appeared to be in deep thought, and then he took Thomas from her and slowly walked back to the chair in front of the window. Penelope released a shaky sigh of relief and her eyes began to water as he sat back down and held the bear in his arms like how a normal child would.
Perhaps there was still hope for Michael.
...
One week later...
"So Michael is getting better?" Edith Myers asked Penelope, who sat in a chair across from her. Her husband Donald sat next to her on the couch, although he didn't ask the nun a single question about the welfare of their only son. He remained stone-faced and silent with his arms crossed, while Edith was doing her best not to break down and clutched a used, crumbled tissue in her shaky hands.
Penelope nodded with a warm smile. "Yes, slowly but surely, he's starting to understand that it's wrong to use such violence and be so destructive. I've got a good a feeling about all this."
"So...you think he'll be allowed to come home one day?" Edith asked with hopeful eyes.
Donald finally broke his silence and glared at his wife. "Be quiet, Edith," he said sternly.
Edith looked at her husband pleadingly. "Donald..."
"He's never coming back here. We agreed to that."
She slowly shook her head with tears spilling down her cheeks and placed her hand over his. "He's our son, Donald. We need to at least visit him every once in a while."
Donald angrily jerked his hand away. "That...monster...is not our son," he says with rage in his voice. "He stabbed our daughter over and over and over and left her to bleed to death on the floor. Our son would never have done such a thing to his own sister. You know that, Edith."
His wife squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face in her hands as she began to weep.
Penelope's heart broke for both parents and swallowed away her own tears before she cleared her throat. "With all due respect, Mr. Myers, your wife is right. He's still your son, and you need to go see him. It will help the healing process for everyone, including Michael."
Donald looked at Penelope with blazing eyes. "You're asking me to go visit my daughter's murderer? And then what? I'm supposed to pretend that none of that matters and everything is just...f*cking peachy?"
"I understand your pain, Mr. Myers," Penelope said calmly.
"No, you don't," Donald hissed. "Everywhere we go now, people are starting at us. They think we're sh*tty parents. Hell, they all think we're just sh*tty people in general. Even in church, we're greeted with accusing eyes. We're branded for life because of Michael. If you want him, you can keep him, because we sure as hell don't want him anymore."
Edith continued to sob next to him, but she didn't argue any further with her husband.
Penelope looked at him with absolute shock, but she didn't blame him for acting this way, and instead of being disgusted with him, she felt pity for him. Losing a loved one is a pain that will never go away and can change a person forever.
"I understand," she said softly as she got up from her chair. "Well, I assure you, Michael will be in good hands. If you change your mind, though, you're always welcome to visit him. And if you have any questions, give us a call." She walked to the door and opened it, and before she stepped outside, she looked back at the broken parents with a sad smile.
"God bless you both."