I realize it has been awhile since I last updated this story, but I decided to changed the the ending of the last chapter, so you might want read that first (start at the last break) before you read this newest chapter. As always, happy reading.
ONE DAY LATER
Pebble Creek, Illinois
June 19, 2010
For the first time in five weeks, Heather woke up without any symptoms of morning sickness. She ran a hand over her belly, still shocked that there were two tiny babies nestled inside her womb. One she felt was definitely a girl. Was the other a boy? Would the Myers name continue after all?
Heather stood up and walked to the closet. All of Michael's coveralls were still hanging in it. There could have been many reasons as to why he had left them behind, but she figured the main reason was to remind her that he was the Boogeyman, just in case she would ever forget.
Heather closed the closet doors and moved on to the dresser. Either Michael or Samantha had placed her articles of clothing on top of the old clothes that were already in the drawers. She pulled out a navy t-shirt and a pair of jeans. She would have preferred to wear shorts, but Samantha refused to buy her anything that showed too much skin.
Once dressed, Heather sauntered over to the bedroom door. She turned the knob. To her surprise, the door easily swung open. The chair Michael had used to lock her in was sitting just outside the doorway.
"Michael and Diane left a little while ago," Samantha said while she emerged from the bathroom, "so I figured it was safe to let you out."
"Safe?" Heather asked. "So what, I'm a prisoner now?"
The woman's expression hardened. "As I recall, your whereabouts are to remain a secret, which means you and Diane can never meet. If she was to recognize you -"
"Yeah, I get it," Heather snapped. She now understood why Michael had been so angry with her the night before. It hadn't been because she had interrupted him, but because had the girl woken up while Heather had been in the room, Heather's cover would have been blown. His priority first and foremost was to protect her from harm in order to keep their babies safe, and she had almost ruined it by playing hero. "I made a terrible mistake."
"Yes," agreed Samantha, "but I would say everything turned out all right in the end."
Heather scoffed. "He might be fucking Diane, but his heart still belongs to me," she confidently stated.
The woman's hazel eyes narrowed. "For now."
"Forever," the younger boldly predicted.
Samantha regarded Heather for a long moment as though she was suddenly seeing the teenager in a new light. "Nothing lasts forever, Heather," she voiced at last. "You will do well to remember that."
There was a certain gleam in Samantha's eyes that set Heather on edge. However, before she had the chance to delve deeper into it, the doorbell rang. "That must be Tracy. She's dropping off a bassinet for the baby."
"That's very kind of her," Samantha said.
Heather simply nodded and then ventured downstairs. Michael's aunt followed closely behind.
"Just in case, let me answer the door," Samantha commanded.
Heather stood back while Samantha greeted the visitor.
"You were right," the woman quickly confirmed, moving away from the threshold. "It is Tracy."
"I brought the bassinet," the brunette told Heather. "but I'll need some help bringing it in."
The blonde girl instantly joined her new friend on the porch. Together, they walked down to Tracy's Explorer.
"I am so glad to see you," Heather said. "So much has happened since yesterday."
Concerned, Tracy asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"
Heather nodded. "Yeah, but not here."
The brunette nodded in understanding. "Would you like to come over to my house and help me watch Jane?"
"Yes, that would be great," the blonde teenager breathed, relieved.
"Okay, let's get this bassinet inside and them we can leave."
The two girls carried the bassinet upstairs to the babies' room. Tracy looked around, a frown forming on her lips. "It needs color."
"Yeah, I know, but I don't have any paint."
"Leave that to me," the brunette said. "Maybe we could work on this room together."
"I'd like that, especially since -" Heather stopped speaking and looked at her companion in earnest. "I need to pee. I'll be right back."
"Okay, sure," Tracy replied, appearing confused.
Heather dashed to the bathroom. After using the toilet, she brushed her hair and teeth. Feeling more presentable, she returned to Tracy and simply said, "Let's go."
Heather led the way downstairs to the kitchen where Samantha was sipping a hot cup of tea. "Millie and I are going over to spend the day at Tracy's, if that's okay."
Samantha slowly nodded. "Yes, fine. Just eat some breakfast first."
Heather walked to the refrigerator and pulled out a small container of blackberry yogurt. As she went to grab a spoon from the silverware drawer, Samantha huffed at her.
"My nephew goes through all the trouble to heal you, and that's all you're going to eat?"
"For now," the blonde girl answered, ignoring Tracy's raised eyebrows. "I'll eat more later. I promise."
"Yeah, we won't let her starve," the brunette quipped.
Samantha's jaw clenched angrily, and Heather quickly decided it was time to leave. "I'll be back tonight," the younger said. Using her head, she beckoned for her friend to follow her out of the kitchen.
"What did Mrs. Myers mean when she said that Michael had healed you?" Tracy asked once they had stepped outside.
"It means that he cured me of my morning sickness," Heather clarified.
"How?"
The blonde teenager called for Millie and helped the dog into the backseat of Tracy's SUV. "Through sex," Heather eventually answered. She sat down in the passenger's seat and closed the door. Tracy promptly joined her and started the ignition.
"Oh, so he's back, then?"
Heather nodded. "Yeah, but it's complicated. I really want your mom's advice, and maybe your dad's, too."
"My mom's working the yard sale until four," Tracy said, "and my stepdad won't be home from work until five-thirtyish."
"That's all right. I can wait."
"Okay, so what do you want to do in the meantime?"
The blonde teenager shrugged as she opened her yogurt. "Whatever you want."
"We could watch a couple of movies with Jane until she goes down for her afternoon nap," Tracy suggested. "Then, we can go from there."
"That sounds good," said Heather, eating her breakfast. "I haven't watched a movie in months."
Tracy's caramel eyes widened."Really? Well, we've got a lot to choose from." She pulled into her driveway and parked her Explorer in the garage. After they took care of Miller's needs, the girls wandered into the house.
"I'll get Jane from my mom," the brunette said. "In the meantime, go ahead and make yourself comfortable in the den. I won't be too long."
Heather walked into the cozy room and sat down on a couch. A few photographs of both Tracy and Jane hung from the walls. Heather looked at each one, wishing her mom treasured her as much as the Hoffmans did Tracy.
"You look so sad," Tracy quietly stated.
"It's been a few years since my mom displayed a picture of me," Heather replied. "I stopped being her daughter the moment my dad died. Sometimes I wish I would have gone with him."
The brunette glanced down at the scar on Heather's wrist. "Yeah, but now you're going to be a mom, and all that love you missed you'll be able to give to your baby, if Michael let's you."
"That's a huge if," the blonde teenager bluntly stated.
Tracy laid Jane on the soft carpet and gave her a cloth doll to play with. "I take it he doesn't love you anymore?"
Heather sighed as she sat down on the floor next to Jane. "Yes, he does, but for whatever reason, he doesn't want us to be together. He made that very clear last night."
"Why? What happened?"
"I'd rather wait to talk about it," said Heather, tearing up.
Tracy frowned. "What the hell did he do to you? Did he hurt you?"
"Yes, god, yes," Heather choked out. "But he can never know that. I need to stay strong. It's just so hard -"
Tracy suddenly embraced the blonde girl, generously giving Heather a shoulder to cry on. "I should get my mom."
"N-no, there's no r-reason to brother h-her right now," Heather sobbed. "I d-don't want her t-to see me l-like this."
"Heather, there's no shame in crying," Tracy assured her. "What are you so scared of?"
The blonde teenager raised her head and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "Michael can never know how much he hurt me. Neither can Samantha. Otherwise, they will think they've won. And they won't. Not ever. My heart will always belong to Michael - no matter what."
Tracy stared at Heather, her face etched with concern. "Are you going to be okay?"
Heather backed away from her friend and shrugged. "I honestly don't know, but if you don't mind, I would like to clean up real quick. Where's your bathroom?"
"Just down the hallway," answered Tracy. "I'll get the movie ready while you're doing that."
Heather mutely nodded as she rose to her feet. Although watching movies wasn't going to solve any of her problems, a chance to leave reality behind for a while really appealed to her. Maybe by then she'd have a clearer idea of how to best handle the situation with Michael.
"Heather. Hey, Heather, are you hungry? Dinner's almost ready."
The blonde girl groggily opened her eyes, her mind fuzzy. "Tracy?" She sat up on the couch and looked outside. "What time is it?"
"Almost six. You fell asleep while we were watching Shrek Two, and I just let you be. I hope you're not mad."
"No."
"Good. My stepdad picked up a couple of pizzas on his way home from work. Would you like to eat with us?"
"Yes, thank you," said Heather. "That would be great."
The girls walked into the kitchen. They both plated two slices of pizza and grabbed a can of cola. Then, they sat down at the table where Tracy's parents and Jane were waiting for them.
Heather ate quietly while the Hoffmans talked about the yard sale, work, and Jane. Once they stopped mingling amongst themselves, Clara turned her attention onto their dinner guest.
"I'm glad to see that you're eating. You must be feeling a little better today."
"The blonde girl gradually nodded. "Michael returned yesterday and cured me of my morning sickness."
Clara's husband pursed his lips together while his light blue eyes narrowed. "I assume you are speaking of Michael Myers, who I also understand is the father of your baby."
"Bab-ies," Heather softly corrected. "I'm pregnant with twins."
"Good lord," he gasped.
"Robert -" Clara interjected. "I promised Heather we would do our best to help her. She needs us."
The mahogany-haired man gave Heather a long look. "Is this true?" he asked. "Do you need us?"
"I need somebody," she openly admitted. "While Michael was gone, he found himself another girl and brought her back with him. And, because I have a reward on my head, I have become a prisoner in Samantha's house." Heather gave Clara a tearful look. "I can't live like that, not again. I don't know what to do."
Robert leaned back in his seat while his wife moved to comfort Heather. "Clara was once a hairdresser," he said. "Perhaps, she can change your appearance enough so that you won't be so easily recognizable."
"Yes, of course," Clara agreed. "We can do that during your visit tomorrow. I'll go to the the drugstore as soon as it opens and buy all the supplies we'll need to change your look. How would you feel about becoming a ginger with blue eyes?"
Heather grimaced. "No, not blue," she pleaded. "Both my mother and fiancé have blue eyes."
"Fair enough," said Clara. "I will choose another color, then."
"Green," Heather abruptly said. "In memory of my father." She smiled sadly as she envisioned him in her mind. "He had the most beautiful eyes."
Clara's expression instantly softened. "I will see what I can do."
The blonde teenager wordlessly nodded while the image of her father faded back into darkness.
"Now that we got that settled, who exactly is this new girl?" Robert inquired.
Heather shrugged. "All I know is that her name is Diane and that Michael handpicked her to replace me."
"And she is here consensually?"
A lump formed in Heather's throat. "Yes," she choked out. "She likes him, but I know for a fact that he doesn't feel the same. He's only with her to hurt me so that I will stop loving him. The problem is my heart will always be his, and nothing he'll do will ever change that."
Clara gently combed her fingers through Heather's hair. "Then, you must do everything in your power to keep Michael's love alive. As long as he loves you, he will not be able to kill you."
The younger's face fell. "In order to protect all of you from harm, I promised Michael I wouldn't interfere in his life. I already crossed that boundary last night. I don't dare do it again."
"Heather, there are ways to interfere without really interfering," Clara said. "I am sure your presence alone will help remind him of his true feelings."
"Which is probably why he took off with Diane for the day," Heather dully replied. "He'll probably only return to the house at night just so I can hear them fuck."
"I can let you borrow my mp3 player and a set of headphones, if that would help," Tracy suggested.
Heather shook her head. "No, I have to prove to him that it doesn't bother me."
"You are in some for rough nights, then."
"But if they ever get too rough," Robert said, "you will always be welcome here."
"Thanks," said Heather. "I really appreciate that."
Jane started to fuss in her highchair. When Clara rose to her feet to care for the baby, Heather decided it was time for her to leave. She bade the two adults a good night, and then Tracy escorted her into the garage. Millie ecstatically greeted them
"Sorry I neglected you today," Heather apologized to her four-legged companion.
"You may have, but I didn't," Tracy said, petting Millie's head. "She's a good dog."
"Yeah, it's too bad both Michael and Samantha hate dogs. Otherwise, I'd let her sleep with me instead of in the barn. I could really use her companionship right now."
Tracy nodded sadly while Heather and Millie got into the Explorer. "But you'll be okay, right?"
Heather shrugged. "Yeah, I guess."
The brunette started her SUV and backed out of the garage. "I'm sorry Michael is being such an ass."
"I wouldn't expect anything less from him," said Heather. "He is the Boogeyman after all."
The teenagers sat in silence until Tracy parked her Explorer by the barn. "Are they back, yet?"
"No, Michael's car isn't here. He always parks up by the house," Heather told her friend. "After I feed Millie, I think I'll just sneak inside and go straight to bed. I don't feel like dealing with Samantha any more today."
"I don't blame you," emphasized Tracy. "But, hey, if you need anything, don't be afraid to run on over, all right? Even if it's just to vent or cry or whatever. I really don't care. You're not going to get an ounce of compassion while living in that damn house."
Heather nodded in agreement. "I know, it's really no different than when I lived at home. Samantha and my mom are turning out to be one in the same. Sad, isn't it?"
"Very," said Tracy.
Heather released a heavy sigh. "Well, I'd better get going before Michael and his tool come back. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Yeah, bye."
Heather beckoned for Millie. The teenager then waved to Tracy as she backed out of the driveway. Once the SUV turned onto the road, Heather led Millie into the barn and poured a couple of heaping cups of food into the canine's dish. "I'm sorry, Millie," she said, "but I can't play with you tonight. It's just too risky. I promise to play with you in the morning, though, okay?" The dog responded by licking the girl's hand. "I'll take that as a yes."
Heather wiped her hand on her pant leg. Then, she walked to the farmhouse and snuck inside. She hurried up the stairway to Michael's old room. After closing the door silently behind her, she flopped down on the bed. She wanted sleep to come quickly, but just like the night before, it stubbornly eluded her.
Heather simply stared up into the ceiling as they minutes slowly clicked by. Darkness eventually crept into the room, yet the house remained eerily still. Finally, she heard the front door open, and a female voice filtered up through the floorboards.
"Thanks for taking me home today, Michael. There was just something special about you fucking me in my own bed."
Heather angrily punched her pillow as Michael and Diane's footsteps traveled upstairs.
"Speaking of fucking, are you up for more?" Diane asked.
Something hard suddenly hit Heather's closed door, followed by a loud throaty moan.
"You bastard," the teenager hissed through clenched teeth.
The killer noisily unzipped his and Diane's clothes.
"Oh god, Michael, yes," the Tool encouraged. "Fuck my wet pussy."
She wasn't kidding. Heather could hear Diane's juices sloshing around the Boogeyman's cock as he pounded her. Thankfully, it didn't take long for Diane to come. Once she did, the couple moved down the hallway to their own bedroom.
Tears of anger welled up in Heather's eyes. She had to stop herself from chucking a pillow at the door. She had to be stronger than that. Michael was purposely trying to get under her skin, and she couldn't let that happen, not only after two nights. Where was her fortitude? If she could survive two years of abuse from her fiancé, she could definitely survive this, too.
With a renewed sense of determination, Heather tucked herself in underneath her quilt. She didn't care anymore about the sounds emitting from the larger bedroom. She barely even heard them as she delved into her memories of better times.
She recalled when her dad had first taught her how to ride a two-wheeler bike. She had fallen at first and skinned her knee, but he had urged her back onto the bike. She remembered how proud he had been when she had ridden from one street corner to the other without losing her balance.
Heather closed her eyes and saw her dad's contagious smile and gleaming green eyes. She also saw her mother and older sister clapping alongside of him. Laughing, she waved at them.
"Keep going, sunshine!" her dad shouted. "Go chase the sun!"
And that's exactly what she did.
