Halloween:Bloodline
Chapter One
Mental Patient
I was John Strode's sister before I ended up in here.
I was John Strode's god damn sixteen year old sister.
Now I'm not sayin that he wasn't a good brother or anything, cause he was and I loved him a lot. He was always joking around with me and his friends and his girlfriend, Molly, was really pretty and nice and smart too. She was my best friend in the whole world. She never gave answers away but she'd help me with my homework when I got stuck on a problem. She always made things seem easier for me-she just had that aura-and things stayed easier. Normally, when you do that one fucked up math problem right for the first time(and you're all happy and shit) and then you try it again, it just gets harder and harder to do. But not with Molly. She had a way that made you understand something forever. I know what John saw in her. I miss her like hell.
Hell.
Hell is such an overused word. People say "Oh it's just like hell." or something like that. People who don't know what hell really is until you've been chased after and attacked by your mother's psychotic brother who has stupid "Curse of Thorn" and all that shit. People who don't know what hell is like when you watch your brother and your best friend and your mother get murdered in front of your eyes by your uncle.
"She's exactly like her mother." they all say, "She's gone crazy, too. Such a shame."
I loved my mother too- Laurie Strode. She was strict sometimes, that's true-like the time she wouldn't let John move into the school dorms and he got mad-but she was a great mom. She was one hell of a fighter too. She'd fought Micheal since she was my age-but the bastard kept coming back and he finally got her.
Sometimes I wonder what life would've been like if Micheal had never happened. If none of this had ever happened. John and Molly would be engaged and I'd be in college. Of course if Micheal had never happened John and Molly and I might not have ever known each other. Or even been in John's and my cases. Laurie-Mom-Mom would've been able to live without constant fear of her deranged, psychotic bastard of a god damned brother!
Damn. My finger's broken now because of how hard I hit the padded wall. I look at the little emergency button on the wall. It glares back at me, black-like his eyes. Ever black pools of pure evil. I laugh and blink tears back and go and sit on my bed. And I think. I think about how organized my thoughts are for a mental patient. I begin to wonder if somehow I ended up with a million fractured identities, who've never met before and don't know I exist. Maybe John and Molly and Micheal-no...Micheal's too real. He's too fucking real!
Sometimes I just lie here in my room at the hospital, hoping, praying, wishing that it had never happened and I fall asleep. And I dream it over and over again until I wake up and cry to myself the rest of the night. Nobody ever comes to comfort me, in here, alone. They won't even let me eat alone. They think I'll try to kill myself like I killed John and Molly and my mom.
Funny, huh? They think I did it. That I would kill my own fucking family. Ha! They're the ones that should be in here if they think I'd do that to Molly-leave her swinging from a bell tower. Or stick a kitchen knife in John's chest.
You know I wouldn't do that, right?
Right?
Chapter One
Mental Patient
I was John Strode's sister before I ended up in here.
I was John Strode's god damn sixteen year old sister.
Now I'm not sayin that he wasn't a good brother or anything, cause he was and I loved him a lot. He was always joking around with me and his friends and his girlfriend, Molly, was really pretty and nice and smart too. She was my best friend in the whole world. She never gave answers away but she'd help me with my homework when I got stuck on a problem. She always made things seem easier for me-she just had that aura-and things stayed easier. Normally, when you do that one fucked up math problem right for the first time(and you're all happy and shit) and then you try it again, it just gets harder and harder to do. But not with Molly. She had a way that made you understand something forever. I know what John saw in her. I miss her like hell.
Hell.
Hell is such an overused word. People say "Oh it's just like hell." or something like that. People who don't know what hell really is until you've been chased after and attacked by your mother's psychotic brother who has stupid "Curse of Thorn" and all that shit. People who don't know what hell is like when you watch your brother and your best friend and your mother get murdered in front of your eyes by your uncle.
"She's exactly like her mother." they all say, "She's gone crazy, too. Such a shame."
I loved my mother too- Laurie Strode. She was strict sometimes, that's true-like the time she wouldn't let John move into the school dorms and he got mad-but she was a great mom. She was one hell of a fighter too. She'd fought Micheal since she was my age-but the bastard kept coming back and he finally got her.
Sometimes I wonder what life would've been like if Micheal had never happened. If none of this had ever happened. John and Molly would be engaged and I'd be in college. Of course if Micheal had never happened John and Molly and I might not have ever known each other. Or even been in John's and my cases. Laurie-Mom-Mom would've been able to live without constant fear of her deranged, psychotic bastard of a god damned brother!
Damn. My finger's broken now because of how hard I hit the padded wall. I look at the little emergency button on the wall. It glares back at me, black-like his eyes. Ever black pools of pure evil. I laugh and blink tears back and go and sit on my bed. And I think. I think about how organized my thoughts are for a mental patient. I begin to wonder if somehow I ended up with a million fractured identities, who've never met before and don't know I exist. Maybe John and Molly and Micheal-no...Micheal's too real. He's too fucking real!
Sometimes I just lie here in my room at the hospital, hoping, praying, wishing that it had never happened and I fall asleep. And I dream it over and over again until I wake up and cry to myself the rest of the night. Nobody ever comes to comfort me, in here, alone. They won't even let me eat alone. They think I'll try to kill myself like I killed John and Molly and my mom.
Funny, huh? They think I did it. That I would kill my own fucking family. Ha! They're the ones that should be in here if they think I'd do that to Molly-leave her swinging from a bell tower. Or stick a kitchen knife in John's chest.
You know I wouldn't do that, right?
Right?