Laurie's Lament, a halloween fanfic

I've been wanting to make another Quote story and this time about Laurie, obviously my take on some of the movie stuff. I wasn't the happiest about how they represented trauma. So I tried my own take on it. I have a few other ideas boiling in my skull. Please tell me what you think and any improvements you think I can make. I appreciate ALL helpful criticisms. Key work is helpful. If you just say you hate it that's not very helpful. But that nonsense aside thank you for reading. I appreciate anyone who reads and comments. It's hard to find free time and stay motivated so seeing people enjoy my work does make me want to come back and do more.

Story 1

1st person

I paced around the room trying to breathe. Trying to think past the fear. My parents were at work. School was out, and letters of acceptance sat on my desk. But none of that mattered. None of that really mattered anymore. I tried to focus but I couldn't see my room. I couldn't see anything but him. I looked into my mirror only to see him. Spinning around the crack of my closet hid him. I ran out of the room, falling and hitting the ground. Then sitting up in bed, the cold air chilling my soaking body. Sweat dripping down, I reached up and wiped it away from my face. Tears and sweat. The mirror is face down next to me. With shaking hands, I lifted it slowly and looked at the wrinkles. Grey hair and old age.

Suddenly it's December and you're not 17 anymore.

And you haven't been 17 for a very long time, but sometimes you need to remind yourself.

3rd person

Shaking hands reached out and touched the cold metal of a gun. Laurie walked through her house. Checking every corner, every spot that someone could hide. She checked every desk drawer as if his mask could reside there. After checking every inch of the house, every lock and door, she collapsed. Gun held close eyes still going over every inch. Looking for any sign she wasn't alone. But she was, her mind seeming to see double. Looking before her she isn't really in her home. She's visiting her friend. Worry in her heart. A dead body, so many dead bodies. Laurie openly cried, screaming into the night. Pain that would never heal pierced through her over and over again. She didn't carry what others said about her, she knew she had to be prepared. They didn't see what she saw. They didn't see the bodies, they didn't feel the pain. They didn't feel the adrenaline shooting through her. They weren't prepared to die for kids in their care. Another sob slipped out and she wasn't in her home anymore, she was in high school with her friends. She was babysitting, she was just a kid herself. She screamed into the night. She was just a kid herself. Kids should never experience horrors like that. Kids shouldn't have to grow up with their friend's death on their minds. Heavy on their souls. As her breathing grew shallow she fell asleep curled up by the front door. Gun held close.

Story 2

Laurie sat with her knees to her chest. The psychiatrist tapped his pen rapidly, her eyes clenched shut. Finally, he stopped and she opened her eyes. His mouth was moving, he was speaking rapidly but nothing came through. She stared at his mouth, trying to understand. Trying to read his lips. But they moved quickly, all she could see was two words over and over again. "Michael Myers. Michael Myers. Michel Myers. Michael Myers."

"Laurie, are you hearing me sweetie?" The podiatrist asked seeing the look in her eyes. Like lights had been turned off. Her eyes snapped up hearing her name, blinking quickly. She nodded fingers scratching at the poorly healing cut on her arm. Her fingers continuously picking at it. He looked at her before standing sitting next to her and taking both her hands into his.

"Why do you keep that scar open?"

"What?"
"Why do you keep that scar open? I've seen you picking grabbing opening that wound again and again. You never let it heal. You never want it to."

Laurie stared at him, eyes hollow, far away. Her lips moved as if repeating something only she could hear. Screaming at something only she could see. But no sound left her lips. Nothing came out of her throat as her mouth opened. Then she was back, blinking answering as if nothing happened.

"I have to remember. I couldn't save them. I survived and they didn't. I survived, I don't deserve to live."

The psychiatrist wrapped her in a hug, squeezing her tightly. His words were soft in her ear, firm breaking through her mind prison.

You collect scars because you want proof that you are paying for whatever sins you've committed.

"But my dear you have not committed any sins, to survive is not a sin. We are not bad because we survive. We are not evil because we lived and others didn't. We are simply victims. You are not a monster, the monster is locked up, He cannot hurt you here."

Laurie drank down a large glass of whiskey. Others at the bar looked at her with disgust. Tears streamed down her face as she drank but her expression did not change. A full glass sat next to her. For a man who hadn't made it to old age. To a man who made it so she could live on her own again. She may not be okay, but he never looked for okay. Just better. She was better than she was on day 1. Better than she was from day 80. But she would never be okay. She could drive now. She didn't scream every time she saw something out of the corner of her eye. She didn't attack people who grabbed her from behind. She could go outside. She hated every moment. It was hell. But she could do it. She was better, but she would never be okay.

Story 3

Laurie tapped her foot quickly the teacher's voice falling on deaf ears. It had been a few months. Everyone expected her to be over it. They acted like she was crazy for dwelling on it. Dwelling on him. Her mom told her to be afraid. To be worried. Her dad disappeared. He blamed himself for me even being a target. He was trying to sell the Myers house. Then one day he stopped coming home. Her mom taught her how to install a deadbolt, her dad would call to just say he loved her She thought they were a normal family. How they were a normal family. They were the average family anyone would want to be. Now here they were.

"My mother's trust issues are leaking into my chest and I've got my father's nose and his tendency to stop calling back. So I'm sorry about the 9 missed calls I have from you and the 6 voicemails I never played. I swear I'd love you if I could."

This was the last message Laurie sent before she moved. Her mom bought a house far away. She knew everyone called her crazy. She knew what they said about her. She knew she needed to learn to hide it like her mother. Knew she should run like her father. But she couldn't do either. She couldn't hide her fear when a kid screamed. She couldn't help but touch her arm where a reminder would always be. A reminder of what went on that night. What he did to her. He would always leave a mark on her. She heard the whispers.

"Wasn't that her brother?"

"Did he get out and attack her at the hospital?"

"Wait that happened?"

She'd ignore them, she knew what happened. She could feel his hands. She could see the bodies of her friends. Breathing rapidly, head in her hands she lost where she was. Suddenly her teacher was shaking her. Her name was screamed. She looked up expecting to see judgmental eyes. Instead, she found concern, her teacher was whispering. Telling her it was okay. Gently brushing the hair out of her face. Her classmates looked annoyed, disgusted, and bored. So she focused on the women before her—the concern in her eyes. The gentle mother-like actions. Her mother tells her to be afraid. This woman told her not to be. She'd be okay, she was safe. She wouldn't let that man get near her. That this town wasn't so bad, they wouldn't let this happen again.

Laurie took another drink, her memories out of order, she laughed slightly. That was her life, wasn't it? Out of order. She tried to remember again and the memories seemed to slide into place again. But this time the teacher was hugging her the day before she was saying goodbye. Staring up at the deputy who had stopped to talk to her more that once. That note gripped in her fingers. Another memory forced itself in. The glass shattered on the floor as the headstone appeared behind her eyes. Her friend's limp body was beneath it. Eyes opening slowly Larue grabbed the bottle she had been pouring from and drank deeply, she didn't want to remember anymore. She was done taking a trip down memory lane.

Story 4

Laurie placed a plate of eggs and bacon before her daughter as she talked about the plan for the day. Setting her plate down, a large cup of coffee clinked with a plastic cup of juice as they cheered the morning.

"So today we will start with doing your hair, we will check out the garden." Laurie trailed off as Karen raised her tiny hand, mouth full of eggs. She chewed quickly before gulping talking quickly and excitedly.

"NO! I wanna do mamma's hair!"

Laurie smiled and nodded before continuing to munch on some of her bacon as well. "Okay you will do my hair then I will do yours. After would you rather practice shooting or play dolls first? Tonight we can watch movies."

Karen thought about it as she munched on her bacon, eyes narrowed. As her eyes narrowed more Laurie couldn't help but smile at her. She would prepare her for the worst of the world. She knew her trust issue would sink into her daughter. She didn't want it to be true. She didn't want to scare her little girl but the world was not kind. All she could do was balance things. Play dolls with her while showing her how to shoot a gun. Watch movies while explaining all the ways the main character could escape. How they could use the environment to their advantage. Finally, her daughter took a large gulp of juice and announced the plan.

"We will teach our dollies how to shoot!"

Laurie clapped her hands happily, fully encouraging her daughter. "That sounds like a wonderful idea, my smart little girl. You are too smart for your age."

Karen smiled proudly and ran to go get ready while Laurie cleaned the dishes.

When Karen was a teenager she lowered her gun glancing at the house Her mom was having an episode again. Curled in a ball in the bathroom, trying to hide what was happening. Her mom always tried to hide it. Pretend she wasn't as broken as she was. As she began to understand more she wondered why her mother wouldn't share these things with her. Why she wouldn't allow her to help her in some way? But her mom wouldn't talk about it. Wouldn't share it with her. Her mom would hand her headphones and a gun and send her out. Her hands shaking barely keeping her eyes focused.

As an adult playing with her daughter, her mom finally shared why she wouldn't tell her about the sorrows and pain.

"You are at an age where I think you can understand this. I'm sorry I never shared before but I think you will understand now. Here with you're own daughter. My precious grandbaby I think I can finally tell you."

Karen looked at her mom eyes wide. Her husband had gone out to grab everyone dinner so it was just them. Karen nodded scooting closer to her mom. She knew her childhood wasn't normal as she got older. As a child, it was all she knew. Bragging to her friends about gardening and playing dollies with her mom. Telling her teacher how she gets to teach her dollies to shoot a target. They tried calling child protective services but they couldn't find anything wrong. The guns were BB guns. She was always taught with Laurie present and never without her permission. The courts tried but they couldn't find enough reasons.

It's not a child's job to heal their mother's wounds.

Laurie's words brought Karen back and left her blinking. She stared at her mother in shock. If she had talked to her she would have been there for her. But as she looked down at her daughter she understood. She would never give her daughter her problems. Never lay them on her to try and heal herself. She would always protect her. She would teach her the lessons her mother had taught her. She smiled as she looked up at her mother. Laurie smiled back seeming to know what Karen was thinking.

She would teach her daughter how to shoot a Nerf before a BB gun. She would warn her about the dangers of the world but wouldn't put it into her that the world is inherently evil. She would pass on the lessons but not the trauma. Karen hugged her mother tears falling from both of them. Karen would never truly understand her mother's pain. She'd never harbor that fear in her heart but as an adult, she knows. She knows the world has evil. She knows sometimes that evil leaks out and poisons people. Her mother was one of them. She would never truly understand but she would never judge her mother. Never hold it against her. When her mother broke down she would put headphones on her daughter's head. If her mother allowed her she would hold her. Whisper it's okay, he's locked up. He can't hurt her.

Karen would never truly understand but she didn't need to. She would never hold it against her mother. She would never get mad at her for having this trauma. They would fight about how much Allyson should be taught and how young but she would never use him against her mother. They'd argue. They'd disagree. But in the end, they would talk, and try to understand each other. Karen may be fully grown with a teenage daughter. But Laurie still held her like a child. Kissed the top of her head, and reminded her she would always be her little girl. Her trust issues may leak out but she would always try to shield her from herself.

Story 5

Laurie sat watching her daughter trick-or-treat. Eyes constantly scanning their surroundings. She could hear the snickering. The whispering. Some people pointing. But she didn't care. She confirmed a few days before he was still locked up. No plans to move him. So she was safe for one more Halloween. Her hands shook as Karen screamed. Hand on her gun. Then came the giggling, she watched like a hawk as her daughter laughed. The man wearing the clown mask had lifted it so she could see he was just a person. Karen ran back to show her the large candy bar she got. Laurie smiled wide and told her how proud she was. She could see other parents laughing at her. They could see the way she was shaking. The way every sound made her jump. All they did was laugh.

"Mama"

Laurie looked down to see Karen staring at a man in the shadows. A pale mask peeks out. Hand on her gun Laurie watched carefully, taking slow deep breaths. Karen backed away slowly prepared for the safe word. If her mom said it she'd run to the nearest house with their lights on to ask for the police. But as the mask came into the light she could see it was a small young man. Barely a threat, and not him. Karen still was poised and ready to run until Laurie turned and nodded at her with a smile.

"Come on my little Care Bear, let's finish the night strong and get the big candy bars from grandma and grandpa. Karen gasped and almost ran ahead but stopped staring at the man who was talking with a group that showed up. She looked nervously at her mom who was still watching them but Laurie ushered her along. Eyes scanning all around. Her hand was still on her side, ready to pull her gun if needed.

Many years later Laurie was walking with Allyson, eyes scanning the neighborhood. The same whispers, the same laughter. People never changed. Karen was talking excitedly about how she was glad her mom joined them. Her husband had to work so it's always more fun with more family. Laurie just nodded, on edge at every sound. Every scream. But now her hands didn't shake. She didn't jump, she wasn't scared to death. She was scared but prepared. Anger having boiled for so long it formed something new. A police car pulled up next to them and a familiar face smiled out. Karen smiled and quickly pulled Allyson away. Laurie gave a small smile and nodded.
"Wel,l hello there, Officer Hawkins, fancy seeing you out here."

"Laurie, it's good to see you. Wanna go for a quick ride with me? I've got the police raider on."

Laurie smiled and rolled her eyes, that smile reaching her eyes. Looking at her daughter she saw her a few houses down already.

"Well, I guess a short ride wouldn't hurt. At least you'd be the first to know if there was trouble."

Getting into the passenger seat, she let out a little sigh at the warmth. They talked for a bit, about how slow the night was. Most calls are false alarms or pranks. About the panic that no one seems to have anymore. People are so calm as if nothing could ever happen in their little town.

"You seem to be doing better Laurie. Not so obsessed with that guy. Less angry too."

Laurie smiled staring out the window, eyes closing as she leaned back.

"Monster, you said guy, but that's not what he is. He is a monster. And you have to understand I'm not over it. I will never be over it. No matter how much everyone wants me to be."

"I've polished this anger and now it's a knife"

Laurie opened her eyes as the radio went off, a call to a house for an older couple. Some kids were bothering them with how loud they were being. Driving by Karen Officer Hawkins let Laurie out, staring after her for a moment. Her smile no longer reached her eyes. She was polite but cold. She would always be prepared. Even if others shunned her, they could hate her. She knew she'd protect her family

until her dying breath.

Credit {All quotes were found on Pinterest i just hunted down the owners later online.}

Suddenly it's December and you're not 17 anymore.

And you haven't been 17 for a very long time, but sometimes you need to remind yourself. - dumbsoftheart on X

Full Quote

"You collect scars because you want proof that you are paying for whatever sins you've committed. And I know this because I've been doing the same damn thing for two hundred years. Tell me, do you think you will go to some blessed Afterworld, or do you expect a burning hell? You're hoping for hell-because how could you face them in the Afterworld? Better to suffer, to be damned for eternity and-"

― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

It's not a child's job to heal their mother's wounds. The exact quote was found on Pinterest with no user attached. But you can find many people using it online.

"I've polished this anger and now it's a knife" Cathy Linh Che