Author's note:
Hello everyone,
There is a reason why I have edited/reuploaded this story. I am dedicating it to my stepfather Jeff, who died this year. We were very close, and he was always interested in what I was writing. He wasn't a horror fan per say but would watch horror films to describe them for me when no one else would! Rest in peace Jeff, I love and miss you with all my heart.

Introduction:
This novel is very close to my heart. I am thoroughly enjoying this journey of writing a blind character meeting Michael Myers, even more so basing her off me. I hope you enjoy reading it as much too! I am more than happy to answer any questions you might have about life as a blind person. All Danielle's likes, dreams and so on are mine. As is her fifteen percent survival rate. The rest is fictitious. Yes, in case you're wondering, ears and whistling are my real likes! I also can't deny I am fascinated by the death penalty and completely agree with it for some crimes so just had to incorporate it into this story.
I first met Michael Myers when I read the audio novel of the 2018 Halloween movie. Something about him fascinated me. His silence especially. I can't say why but I found it kind of sexy if I'm honest. His lack of remorse, Feeling.
As a result I then started wondering, how would he react if he encountered a totally blind person like me? Would he kill me on the spot? Or would my vulnerability reach him? That was the question which inspired me to write this in the first place. Jason Vorhees killed a paralysed guy in a wheelchair because he came on to his land. Myers doesn't seem to have a particular motive for his kills, it's just what he does. So, would meeting a disabled person make him think twice? He didn't kill the baby in the 2018 movie, and he could've done. Possibly a small glimpse of humanity from the masked killer?
My next step was to consider the circumstances and background I'd use for this story, and I decided on Smith's Grove. A blind woman there who's badly psychologically damage placed next door to Myers. How would they interact? Would he just ignore, try to kill, or protect her?
Just one thing, I know full well iPhones didn't exist in 1998 when this story is set, but I don't think it's too unbelievable to pretend they did, which is why I'm including them. Owning an iPhone myself I know how she would use it which makes it easier to write. I wanted to give a little background for you before you started reading. Thanks for giving your time to check out my story! I really hope you like it, and comments would be really appreciated!

WARNING:
This story contains scenes some readers may find distressing/triggering. They include graphic depictions of violence, rape, death, misogyny, domestic abuse, and strong language, as well as other sexual activity. Reader discretion is strongly advised.
Whistle-78

…

Nigel Manning was used to hearing the couple next door shouting at each other or more accurately, him shouting at her. He knew the guy from having lived next door to him for three years and really wished he didn't. His name was Adam Dawson, and it was clear that the man was a spiteful, misogynistic prick who got his kicks from openly degrading and abusing women. Nigel had lost count of the number of times he'd seen Dawson coming home with a different girl on his arm, only for her to leave around 2 to 3AM, proving Dawson wanted only to fuck them and then kick them out. Nigel had given several a lift home due to the time of night. It'd only made him hate Dawson even more. He didn't care about women's safety, just the sex. It was clear he regarded women purely as sex toys and he made no attempt to hide it. Nigel had even tried to call the police, but they'd told him what he'd known deep down was true, that didn't stop him from trying though. Because Adam wasn't breaking the law, there was nothing they could do unless he did.

Nigel had lived in the same house for five years with his wife Sophie who had died six months ago. Ever since the guy arrived, they had quickly discovered he was a Grade A prick. Sophie had shouted at him constantly to slow down while he would barrel down the street. He drove like a maniac, and they lived near a school. Did he want to kill a child? He'd totally ignored her, and Nigel knew why. Because she was a woman. So, he'd called the police and they had pulled Dawson over and warned him about his speed. For all the good it'd done.

Then Danielle had moved in with Dawson and Nigel's heart sank. A blind woman with an asshole like that? He wanted to warn her, but knew it wasn't his place. She didn't even know him and would probably see him as the nosy old neighbour from hell. He knew how abuse worked. She wouldn't believe or trust him. He assumed Dawson had met Danielle at college, and his dislike of the man deepened even further. She was vulnerable and of course the bastard knew it, easy prey. It made his heart ache.

Sophie had cared about Danielle too, describing her as the daughter they'd never had. She was always trying to talk to her, make her tea and help, but she was always so quiet. Both he and Sophie believed Adam Dawson was abusing her, but she never mentioned it. He'd had the impression Sophie was working up to asking her soon, but before she got the chance, she'd gotten sick and had to be hospitalized. Everything had changed when she'd died of cancer. Danielle had somehow found out and brought him some homemade meals. That night, he'd had to sit there and listen to the prick yelling at her for wasting 'his' money on food for that 'old fucker next door.' Adam hated him because of the driving thing figuring he'd called the police, and he hated Adam because of his downright barbaric treatment of women.

From then on, he and Danielle had talked. Her "boyfriend" was a self-employed contractor so while he was working, she would stop by nearly every day. Finally, she'd broken down and told him the truth. It turned out he'd been right all along. The bastard was controlling having taken her money, not letting her work, she had to stay at home and wait on him hand and foot. If Dawson knew she was talking to him he'd lose his mind. He'd tried to encourage her to call for help, but she'd just smiled and shaken her head sadly at him.

He'd seen her cooking and had to admire how quickly she'd learned all on her own. He'd heard Dawson shouting at her once for burning his dinner and had almost called the police for her, or at the very least banged on the door and told the guy to fuck himself. But he couldn't. He knew only too well the harm that would cause her. She would be the one in danger not him if he did that. So, he'd had to wait, much to his utter frustration.

He'd asked her recently why she hadn't left him. She'd given him that sad smile again and said, 'he made me happy once.' He'd asked how and she'd said he was once kind and made her feel special. That was when she'd told him of her love of whistling. How she knew when he himself was around because he always whistled when gardening or along with the radio and she heard him through their open windows in hot weather. He'd hugged her and she'd rested her head on his shoulder. She'd previously told him how her parents had abandoned her because she was blind. "I love you Nige," she'd said then and he'd had to blink back tears, holding her as tightly as he could. "I love you too," he'd said and meant it.

But tonight, Dawson had finally gone too far. He had always trusted his instincts and knew something bad was happening worse than usual. Watching through his living room window, he saw Danielle emerge from the house and head straight for the garage. That set off the first alarm bell. She was totally blind, and Dawson had dangerous power tools in there which he didn't want her getting hurt by.

He hurried out of his house and set off towards the garage, worry rising in him. What the hell was going on? Maybe the prick had sent her to get a tool for him, not caring if she got hurt? That as far as he was concerned was too far. Then he saw Dawson coming out of the house following behind her quietly. Anger spiked in his chest. The bastard was using her blindness against her and to his advantage. He was about to step forward and confront the spineless worm, when he saw her climb onto an old wooden chair then what she was holding in her hand. A long length of rope. Panic rose in his chest. He broke into a run, just as her so-called 'boyfriend' closed and locked the door. He put the key in his pocket and headed back towards the house as if he hadn't seen that she was even in there. The son of a bitch was even whistling! Cruel irony.

He raced back to his house and grabbed a sledgehammer and a large knife although he'd have to resist the urge to murder Dawson with it. As he ran back towards the garage next to his, Dawson came out of the house again carrying a vicious looking machete. He saw Nigel and stopped in his tracks. Nigel fought with everything he had to keep his mouth shut. He would see this bastard sent down but had to pretend he was none the wiser until the police arrived.

Now Dawson was standing in front of the door, half-heartedly hacking at it with the machete. But he knew they both knew it wouldn't work. He was just doing it for show. He was trying to block him from reaching the door. He tried not to hate anyone, but right then he did, and he wanted to strangle the bastard. I swear to God, he thought. If he doesn't move, I might just use this goddam knife on him after all!

"Out of the way!" He snapped at Dawson, raising the sledgehammer. "Unless you want this put through your fucking head!"

"I…" Adam stammered. "I'm trying to break down the door. I… I think she's…"

Yeah, which is why you locked it and put the key in your pocket, he thought with another stab of hatred. That's why you were fucking whistling as you walked away! You're lying motherfucker. You want her to die.

Without saying anything further, he raised the sledgehammer and swung it right into the garage door, just as there was a loud crash inside. They knew Danielle had just jumped from the chair and didn't have to think too hard as to why. He smashed the sledgehammer against the door again. Once, twice. The door caved in, and he forced himself through. The sight that greeted him made him blink back tears. He'd been right. She was hanging by her neck, the chair now knocked over. Dawson was standing there frozen in shock, but he knew he was faking. He'd wanted this to happen which was why he'd locked the door. He even wondered if the machete was to finish the job if the rope didn't work. Bile rows in his throat. He didn't think, he just acted, almost on autopilot. He sprinted over, stood on the chair, and began cutting the rope as quickly as he could. Fortunately, the knife was sharp, and it didn't take long for him to cut the knot she'd tied to one of the wooden slats above her head.

Adam had already run back towards his house, but he knew he wouldn't call an ambulance or the police. Of course not, seeing as he'd locked the fucking door knowing she was inside. As he carefully lowered her to the ground, he noticed a deep cut running across her right cheek which was bleeding profusely. He also saw that her trousers were ripped. That goddamn bastard had raped her; he was certain of it.

Pulling out his phone he dialled 911 for the police and an ambulance. Within five minutes they were there. Danielle was loaded onto a stretcher. He had administered basic first aid as best as he could until the paramedics arrived. He'd made sure she was still breathing which she was. She appeared to be unconscious. Thank Christ he'd acted so fast. As the ambulance sped off, he gave the police his statement. He watched, with a feeling of immense satisfaction as Dawson was handcuffed and arrested. Hope they throw away the key, he thought savagely. That you rot in hell you abusive bastard!

When he got back to his house the tears finally did come. Danielle had lived there for the past and he'd taken her under his wing without planning to do so. He'd helped her out whenever she needed it but only if she asked him to. He knew how independent she was and wanted to be. She'd told him she'd met Dawson at college but had never talked about anything that was happening at home until last week. He was certain that more than once she'd wanted to and had come close to confiding in him, but she was clearly too afraid of Dawson. He could only hope now she was free of him for good. No one deserved to be with a man like that.

But if he could've read the thoughts of the man now sitting cuffed in the back of the cop car, he would've been terrified. She was far from free. The guy was already planning his revenge and how to make her suffer things he would never have believed.

…

One week later

Dr Samuel Loomis looked at the huge file in front of him with a heavy sigh, then leant back in his leather desk chair rubbing his eyes. This was certainly going to be a challenge. He knew as far as treating her he could do it; he'd been a psychiatrist for over twenty years but looking after her was going to be another matter. It meant he would lose one of the guards to her care whenever she was out of her cell. He hadn't read the whole file yet due to its size and only receiving it that morning, but he knew he'd have to put time aside for it before the next afternoon. A knock on the door startled him. It opened and his PA Andria Pearson entered. He'd worked with her for ten years. She was good, fast, and hardly ever made a mistake.

"I just got the call, your newest patient Danielle Hayward will be arriving tomorrow at 9AM Sam," she said. "They're checking her over one more time at the hospital first."

"Thanks Andi," He smiled at her. She smiled back. She was a short woman, athletically built and with sharp, almost probing hazel eyes. Dr Loomis had often joked she should have his job. "I swear you can see right through people with that gaze," he'd said more than once. "You should be a psychiatrist too."

"No thanks," she'd said with a laugh. "No to the job, but I'll definitely take the pay!"

"Do you want a coffee?"

"Please Andi," she smiled at him again when he used her shortened name. "Thanks. As you can see, this'll keep me busy for a while." She disappeared and was back within five minutes.

Shortly afterwards there was another knock on his door and Dr Gemma Stark entered, his second in command. "I did what you asked," she said without preamble leaning against his desk. "I checked the cell list. The only one free in our ward is cell eight."

"Cell…" Dr Loomis's mouth fell open in horror. "No, there's no way, we can't…"

"Do you have another suggestion?" Dr Stark looked at him levelly. "If we move anyone else it will completely disrupt their routine and you know what that could mean. They hate it. It would cause a full-on damn riot Sam!"

"We can't, not next door to Michael Myers! The guy's pure evil there's nothing left, how many times have I told you that? Putting a totally blind woman next door to him, a woman who's already attempted suicide? We might as well give her the rope again!"

"But he's not going to get the chance to touch her, is he?" She asked patiently. "You know that. She'll have to always have a guard with her anyway to guide her around the place and in the yard, Myers is always chained to that concrete block. Out and about to a guard. What are you so worried about? When they're in their cells the doors will be locked. She'll be perfectly safe. They're just next door to each other. What's the big problem? Any problem you see now will be far out shadowed if we end up with a riot on our hands and you know it."

He sighed, knowing his junior consultant was right but that didn't mean he had to like it. In fact, he hated it. Of all the men Danielle could've been placed next door to, why him? Why Michael Myers?

"We will need to be incredibly careful, keep our eyes out for any trouble," he said eventually. "A totally silent killer, do you have any idea how easily he could take advantage of someone who won't even know he's there until it's too late? It's not like she'll see him, is it?"

"Then we just have to make absolutely damn sure he never gets the chance to get close to her," Dr Stark said. "I agree with you Sam. We will have to be very careful. But we have some of the best guards in the country working for us, we can trust them. They'll look after her. We need to trust our staff for this place to run smoothly."

He bit his tongue. Who did she think she was to be telling him this? He had ten years of experience over her at least. She'd only arrived at Smith's Grove three years ago. He didn't appreciate being told what he already knew by a subordinate. Dr Stark must've seen something on his face because when she spoke this time her voice was softer, almost abashed.

"Sorry Sam, I know you know this and you're my boss, but there honestly is nowhere else we can put her. From what I've been told, she needs more security than one of the lower wards and it's the only empty cell on the high-level care ward. Even a cell number change could set some of those patients off. What else could I do? I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to tell you how to do your job boss."

He sighed but was unable to stop a slight grin. "That's enough 'boss' from you Gemma. All right, I understand what you're saying. But as I said, we need to tell our guards to keep their eyes sharp whenever she's out of her cell. It's not just Myers either. There's lots of patients who… Well, you know."

She nodded. "Yes, I do, and I hadn't overlooked that either. Please don't think I was considering Myers as the only risk. But he's certainly the biggest. There may be nothing left as you say, but I think Michael Myers is far from insane just as you do."

He nodded grimly. "He certainly is. He's calculating, silent and dangerous."

…

The secure van rolled up to Smith's Grove's gates and was buzzed through. A few minutes later, it reached the front doors of the Maximum-security unit, and an unrestrained young woman was guided out by two guards. Dr Loomis who was standing in the entrance noticed the lack of chains and felt relieved. If they hadn't felt the need to restrain her maybe she wouldn't present many challenges regarding giving them trouble. She was escorted through the doors which were quickly closed behind her. 19-year-old Danielle Hayward was tall for a woman at five-ten and very thin. He immediately felt sympathetic. She really did look as if she hadn't had it easy leading up to the suicide attempt which had landed her here.

"Hi Danielle," he said softly. "My name is Dr Loomis, and I will be doing my best to help you while you're here." Silence. She turned her head slightly towards the sound of his voice but otherwise didn't acknowledge him at all. "This is Joanne," He continued. "She'll be your assigned guard when you're not in your cell."

"Hi Danielle," Joanne said, trying to keep her voice cheerful. Still nothing. The guard caught Dr Loomis' eye and could see he was thinking the same as she was. I hope her silence isn't permanent. Two guards guided her to her cell, she made absolutely no effort to resist them. Of course, she didn't see the black eyes silently watching her through the cell bars next to hers as a guard secured the door.

…

Joanne Turner looked at Dr Loomis raising her eyebrows. "Why'd you pick me, Sam?" "Because you're the best female guard we have," He replied.

"Or rather the only one of the two of us on this ward who was willing," Joanne said in contempt. Dr Loomis ignored her comment. "You're good at being cheerful, kind and compassionate and not afraid to show the patients whose boss if needed."

Joanne snorted. "Whatever. Fact is Jamie wouldn't do it, so you had no choice but to ask me."

"Are you saying you'd rather not?"

She sighed. "No Sam. But I know why I must. You told me that she's terrified of men being too close to her and if they are she could regress. I get it, I do. I've just… Never looked after a totally blind person before."

"You'll just have to guide her from place to place and stay with her in the yard to keep her safe. That's the only difference. If she doesn't cause you trouble, you'll be fine.

"If she does? Or if there's a problem and I'm needed elsewhere?"

"I've put a policy in place that you are not to leave her no matter what happens. Even if every other guard is needed you won't leave her side. As for her causing you trouble I can't see that being likely. Even if she tries, you'll have your protective equipment plus the advantage of sight as horrible as that sounds. You're in control Joanne, not her."

She hesitated for a moment longer then sighed. "Fine. I'd better go and introduce myself properly to her then."

…

"Hey! How many fingers am I holding up?"

6-year-old Danielle Hayward said nothing. She was used to this by now. The other children's mocking laughter echoed across the playground. Even at 6 they were clever and cruel. Whereas most bullies got caught if an attack was visual, with her it only depended on hearing. They could whisper spiteful remarks in her ears and the teachers would be none the wiser. She'd also long given up running to her parents in tears. She'd never doubted they loved her, but she was also sure that they didn't really… know how to cope with her blindness. She'd only had a 15% chance of surviving due to being born fifteen weeks earlier than she should've been. Somehow, she'd fought back against the odds and lived. According to her parents she'd died five times and they'd had to keep poking her to keep her alive. Although they'd tried not to show it, she always knew she was… In their eyes to use their exact words, 'less than perfect.' She'd heard them say so once when they thought she was asleep,

"Come and play with me. There's a swing over here…" Only for her to be pushed into a muddy and stinking hole. 'Kids are kids,' was all her parents would say when she tried to talk to them about it. There were also incidents where kids wrote fuck on her homework knowing she wouldn't see it along with other spiteful messages. Without her vision, she was vulnerable, and the school bullies jumped at the chance to tease her. When she got her first white cane, the bullies would hide it and one even bent it. That was the only time her parents got involved when there was money in it. It always was money for them. Canes were not cheap to replace, starting price was at least $50 and her parents demanded the culprit, or their parents replace it.

As she grew into her teens the bullying continued, just changed its form. Instead of pushing her into holes or asking about fingers, they hid her things so she couldn't find them, left her lost in corridors when they were supposed to be guiding her to a class if she wasn't sure where it was. They had squashed her Braille documents until they were almost unreadable and torn. She had a support assistant who tried to help, but regardless the bullies always found a way to torment her. Even the teachers in the higher grades had tried, but still it continued. Even when some were caught and put in detention it didn't discourage others. She had asked her parents, begged them to let her attend a special school for blind children and young adults, but they'd refused. 'Too expensive' they'd said their typical answer.

…

"Hello Danielle."

She was jolted out of her memories by the voice outside her cell. For a second, she wasn't sure where she was. Then it clicked. Smith's Grove following her suicide attempt. Damn, damn him! He'd probably be only too happy… "Sorry didn't mean to startle you."

She stood from the bed and felt her way to the bars. She wasn't allowed her cane in here just in case she "harmed herself or someone else with it." She inwardly scoffed at that. Without it she felt lost, as if part of her was missing.

"Hello, I'm Joanne. I'll be your guard while you're here. I'll be with you when you're outside in the yard. If there is anything you need or need any help, just let me know and I'll do what I can for you. Of course, any of the guards will be here for you as well, but I'm assigned to you, so you'll mostly be dealing with me."

You mean carer, she thought with another wave of bitterness. If she had a dollar every time someone had said she needed a carer she'd be a millionaire by now. She made no response. She hadn't spoken since Nigel had found her… there and she wasn't about to start now. She didn't feel ready for it. She just gave Joanne a very brief nod.

"You're in a small room," Joanne continued, and Danielle noticed she didn't use the word "cell." Well, that was what it was so why not? She hated her already. "You've got the bed you were sitting on, a desk and did you find the screen at the back with the sink and toilet behind it when my colleague showed you? Do you need me to show you again?"

She shook her head. She wasn't stupid. Who did this woman think she was? An idiot?

"There's a call button next to your bed just above your pillows, just press it if you need us. You have two men on either side of you so I'm sure if we don't hear you, they'll attract us for you."

Yeah right, Joanne thought. The one on your left is Michael Myers. He'd kill you and all of us given half a chance. The one on your right is a sexist asshole. Just the perfect cell-block mate for you given your circumstances. She shook those thoughts away. She wasn't allowed to give the patients each other's names. If they introduced each other in the yard if they were aware enough it was fine. But she herself could not tell them. If Myers and the guy on the other side heard that was only because she'd had to use Danielle's name. But there was no reason for her to use theirs at this point.

"Do you need anything now?"

Danielle shook her head. Joanne handed her a huge folder through the bars.

"You need to read this; every patient gets a copy and of course yours is in Braille. If you have any questions or if there is anything you don't understand please let me know. We will bring fresh water to your cell every day and depending on behaviour, breakfast is communal. Ok? Don't worry, you'll be well looked after. If you have any questions just hit that button."

Danielle heard her walking away as she lay back down on the bed, listening to the rattle of her keys and the crackle of her radio. She didn't have to touch it to know Joanne had a gun on her belt. She knew all the guards on this ward did. For some reason that made her nervous. Also handcuffs, a baton and pepper spray. She hadn't planned on causing trouble, but even if she had she wouldn't stand a chance. Ha. So, they thought putting it in Braille was all they had to do to get her respect? No fucking chances! She wasn't here for trying to steal chocolate after all. She was bitter, angry, and just wanted out of this life.

…

"First impressions?" Joanne asked Dr Loomis hours later. Her shift was almost over which meant the other guards had to oversee Danielle for the night. But as she'd already had her time out in the yard and her first session with Dr Loomis, she wouldn't be going anywhere until the morning.

He shrugged. "Quiet, unresponsive. I get the feeling she wants to talk but something is stopping her. Whether it's fear I don't know. But I will keep trying. I think her silence is due to depression more than anything else. It'll just take time. It's obvious she's unhappy or she wouldn't have attempted to take her own life. I intend to find out what happened and help her get through it."

"So, you're hoping she won't be here long term?" Jack another guard asked.

"She's not criminally insane, she just needs help. Being blind on top of what happened doesn't help her. She's been brought to us for that care and help. So, let's give it to her, eh?"

"Or because her parents didn't want her," Joanne muttered in disgust. "I read her file. Come on Sam, what else can you call that, it's despicable!"

"I agree. I think it would be fair to say we all feel sorry for her, so let's do the best we can for her ok, ladies and gentlemen. Do you think you can do this, Joanne?"

She nodded. "Yes, it shouldn't be too difficult. Just guide her to where she needs to be and make sure she's ok. I will admit I did feel sorry for her when I saw her, she's clearly gone through hell."

…

Danielle lay on the surprisingly comfortable bed, scanning her folder. Ok so maybe she'd been a little harsh earlier. Joanne had only been trying to help and putting it in Braille was decent of them. It didn't say anything she wasn't expecting. Don't misbehave or you're in solitary and so on. She smiled bitterly to herself. The only way she'd misbehave was… No. She shook the thoughts away. There was no way in hell she'd even get close to it with all this damn security around. A couple of the male guards had come to say hi, she could tell that they were standing a good distance away by how far their voices sounded. She was thankful for this. Men terrified her after what…! She shouted at herself. Stop thinking about it! Fuck just stop thinking Hayward!

Exhaustion must have taken hold then because the next thing she knew she was woken by a harsh buzzing sound. She shot up in bed, covering her mouth. "Jesus what the fuck was that?" She yelled at no one in particular.

"Breakfast bell," said the man on her right. "Means be ready in ten minutes. If only I could help you get ready baby. Although it'd be a lot longer than ten minutes while I fucked you. I'd love to slide my big hard cock into your dripping wet…"

"Shut the fuck up sleaze ass," She turned away. Dick. The guy began to laugh softly. It sent a shiver down her spine. She knew the men on this ward were extremely dangerous, so she had to be very careful. Winding him up probably wasn't a good idea, but he'd pissed her off with that remark. Who the fuck did he think he was? For the first time she was thankful there were barred doors between them.

"Or" the man continued laughing. "There's the guy on your left. Never speaks that one. Although I think he's fucking awesome, I certainly wouldn't want to be alone with him, murderous son of a bitch he is! You got the short straw there didn't you babe? Me or Michael Myers?"

"Michael…" The word came out in just above a whisper and she caught her breath. She was next door to Michael Myers. Fucking hell! Of course, she knew his name, everyone did. When the government had finally helped her get a computer with a screen reading program on it, a piece of software which converted text on screen into audible speech, she had to be very careful as the internet was controlled by him, he monitored everything she did… she'd googled Myers. She loved horror, fact or fiction and Michael Myers' case was legendary. She'd been considering asking Joanne about him last night and it turned out he was in the next fucking cell? "Jesus," she breathed.

Exactly ten minutes later the doors opened, and a group of guards came in. "Morning," said Joanne's voice. "It's Joanne. We're just going to help our other patients out then I'll give you a hand, ok?" But she wasn't fooled. They wanted to get Myers out before her. Just in case… she shivered. He really was one very dangerous man. Fatally so. Sure enough, seconds later she heard what sounded like heavy chains being fastened from her left. Holy shit. Now she couldn't deny it. Even through her bitter and angry facade she was a little… If not unnerved, downright terrified.

"Move it, Joanne!" A guard called.

"I can't. You must… First." She heard the hesitation even though Joanne tried to hide it. So, she'd been right.

"It's fine," the male guard snapped. "Just move."

Dick, she thought for the second time that morning. Now she was seriously starting to reevaluate last night's statement. Maybe Joanne really did give a damn about her, she wasn't just a name on the clipboard. Seconds later her cell door opened, and Joanne took her arm. She lent close and whispered to her guard. "I know who's on my left! The guy on my right told me. Michael fucking Myers? Jesus Christ! That's…"

"It's ok," Joanne murmured back. "Nothing will happen to you. I promise."

She did something she'd never expected to do then. She reached out her hand. The guard hesitated for just a second, clearly wondering if she had intent. She smiled at her slightly and Joanne relaxed and took her offered handshake.

"Sorry I was a bit… Last night. It's nice to meet you, Joanne."

"It's fine," her guard replied. "Everyone's a bit… Twitchy when they first arrive, and you've got extra reasons. It's nice to meet you too and I'll do all I can to help you while you're here. Come on."

Joanne could hardly believe she'd heard her speak, but against her job's rules she decided to keep this exchange to herself. She seemed to trust her, and Joanne wouldn't break it by telling Dr Loomis or anyone else. She guided her newest charge down the corridor.

Danielle heard the clink of chains right beside her seconds later and felt her blood run cold. She didn't have to be told Michael Myers was walking right beside her. She couldn't stop a slight shiver and Joanne must've felt it because she softly tightened her grip.

"It's ok," she whispered again.

They entered the dining room of the high care ward in silence. She felt strangely comforted when Joanne didn't leave her side even once, but eating was an issue. She'd struggled with it right up until her attempt on her life and she couldn't see that changing soon. Joanne tried to persuade her to eat something and unlike with previous people, she didn't snap back at her.

She knew Joanne was sincerely trying to help. Or if she wasn't she was a damn good actress. If she was tricking her, she would get her back somehow.

"Where is he?" She breathed to Joanne.

"It's ok, he's on the other side of the room," Joanne said softly. "You're perfectly safe."

…

At college She really thought things were starting to look up. She graduated with a bachelor's degree in English Literature and Music without too much trouble. It seemed to her that as people grew up, they were less prone to bullying. Well, the ones she was working with anyway. She had a great support network and even managed to make a few friends. The college helped her get the equipment and Braille documents she needed to pass her courses. It wasn't until her third-year things took a sharp turn. Not that she realised it at first. That was when she met him.

…

After breakfast the patients were led out into the huge exercise yard. Once again Joanne was with her the whole time. The odd patient approached her and even said 'hi.' She was surprised but she didn't answer, just managed a weak smile. That was a first for her though. She hadn't smiled in almost a year. To her total and complete shock, her cane had been handed to her in the dining room. It seemed someone had explained how important it was. She felt so much better once she was holding it in her hand again. She thanked whoever it was from the bottom of her heart. People who could see didn't have a clue how important it was or how it made you feel when holding it. As if you had some semblance of control for a start. Independence.

A little while later they were led back to their cells. As she walked, her cane lightly touched someone's arm.

"Sorry Sir," she said softly. No response. She turned to Joanne who pulled her slightly to the side. She was right. Oh Jesus, had she just hit the arm of Michael Myers?

"Shit, was that…" She breathed to Joanne who simply said, "Its ok."

Well, she reasoned, as Joanne locked her cell door, she was in here for attempting suicide as it was, that accidental hit may have just helped her get there all the faster.

"Didn't realise you were into that sort of stuff," the guy on her right mocked her. "But I don't think Michael Myers is! I am though. Do that to me instead next time baby and I'll fuck you until you bleed." She felt her blood go cold. Of all the people to see what had happened, him, the sexual predator next to her. So, she had just hit Michael Myers. Good thing you want to die as it is, she thought. Because you just signed your fucking death warrant.

…

An hour later, she was taken to her session with Dr Loomis. She was still determined to remain silent. What was the point? How would talking to this guy change anything? Him. He'd left her with so many fucking scars she knew no man would ever look at her again let alone touch her, even if she did regain her courage and confidence which he'd taken from her. This was a waste of both their time. She didn't say a word during the whole session, even as Dr Loomis probed. She couldn't bring herself to speak. If she started talking about it all she thought, she'd really go insane and then they would seriously have something to worry about. Afterwards she was guided back to her cell, wondering what the hell Dr Loomis had gained from that. She smirked. Keep trying shrink. To her surprise, Joanne hadn't taken her cane when she was locked back in in the night. Someone had obviously said something. Again, she thanked whoever it was.

…

Tonight, sleep was an impossibility. She lay still on her bed unable to stop the memories flashing across her mind. Particularly the last one. She tried and tried but they were like audible recordings playing through massive speakers. It was useless. In the end she got up and poured a glass of water from the plastic jug. She felt it carefully. No sharp edges whatsoever. Fuck! Just one that was all she'd need to… She wasn't sure when she did eventually drift off to sleep.

…

The breakfast buzzer sounded the next morning and this time she was ready for it. She'd woken up an hour ago and slipped back into her clothes, hoping against hope she could get a shower soon. She was exhausted. Her night had been awful. She thought about feeling the jug for a sharp edge and not finding one. She cursed. Why did they want her around so badly anyway? She'd lost her few friends when Adam had… Done what he had and as for her parents… She shook that thought away. She had to. It was too horrible and made her too angry if she thought about it too much.

Joanne arrived and led her into the dining room. This time when using her cane, she was more cognizant of the those around her. Hitting either of the men on either side of her could be terrible in their own ways. Raped or killed. Which was worse? She was surprised to find that she was able to eat a little something. She was starving. She hadn't even realised until she took a bite.

"Hungry this morning?" Joanne asked. She'd just nodded at her. The guard touched her arm.