To Love Michael Myers

Chapter 3: What Did She Think?

Michael's P.O.V.

  
    I was going to kill them tonight, but now I don't want to.  Not Y/N anyway...  I want to see her again.  I know I'm a cold hearted killer, but I think she was beautiful.

    I must see her again, I thought to myself, as I gazed out between the boards of a window in my house.  Maybe someone would care to convince me that this killer-state isn't really me.

    I then decided that I was going to see her tomorrow, when her mom leaves her home alone.  I hope she won't be too afraid of me.  That would crush the only part of my heart that remains...

    I'll take my knife when I go, just in case I run into some... trouble...  I'm too nervous to talk to anyone, so I want to write back and forth between a notepad.

   I quietly walked over to the window that I was looking out of when I saw her.  I looked up at her window, and I was pretty surprised.  She'd forgotten to close it.  I could easily get inside, window open or not, but I didn't needn't to at the moment.  But, that wasn't the only thing that genuinely surprised me.  I was quite surprised to see a piece of artwork on her wall.  I could only see it because a beam of silver moonlight was shining through the other window and onto the picture, illuminating it.  The drawing was a drawing of exactly how I looked now; head slightly tilted to the left, knife in hand, dressed in my blue mechanics jumpsuit. 

    Was she scared when she saw me? Did she know who I was? Did she tell her mother? I do t think so... So many questions whizzed around my masked head.

    I stepped away from the window so that the moon was not shining on my mask. I was thinking hard. I didn't know what to do.

I walked around my house very fast, die I never ran. I was looking at all of the dusty furniture that was torn apart by rodents and stupid teens ransacking my house.

I ran my hand slowly over the kitchen counter, my fingers collecting much dirt and dust. I stopped my hand over the silverware drawer, and I opened it.

Located inside, was the knife. Not a knife, but the knife. It was the knife that I murdered my sister with. Judith. It has been awhile, but I still remember that terrible day.

IT. WASN'T. MY. FAULT. I didn't want to do it, but I couldn't control myself. I didn't talk, because I'm very unsocial. I hate talking to other people.

I picked up the knife and slid my finger down the sharp edge. It had crusted blood on it, in which made me quiver. I was tearing up. I can't stand it anymore!!!!!! I gripped the knife and slammed it repeatedly into the wall, leaving a hole.

Tears sliding down my behind my expressionless mask, I stormed over to the full-sized table in the kitchen. I picked it up and threw it out of the boarded up sliding glass door. The only thing that allowed me to throw this full-sized table out of the window was my superhuman strength.

I am definitely changing who I am. Am I crazy?!?!? Do I really think I could actually love someone?!?!? I'm still going to consult her tomorrow, whether she thinks good of me, or not. I am a killer, and, yes, I may have killed 33 people in one night, but I'm still nervous.

Preparing for tomorrow, I set my knife on the old wooden coffee table beside me. I then reclined in my nasty chair, and took off my shoes. I tilted my head back so that I was facing the ceiling. I lay in that chair, shivering and very expectant of the nightmares I'd have tonight. After a long 15 minutes of waiting, I finally fell asleep in my dark old house.

----------------------------------------------

I  am so incredibly sorry for not updating sooner!  I'm so P.Oed at myself!  Please forgive me.  Don't forget that I will continue this story, no matter what.  I'm on Christmas Break, meaning, if I'm lucky, I'll update twice on special days.  Take this not-so-much-of-my-own picture as an apology:

Please don't forget to vote for my book and spread the word to more people who have a huge crush on Michael Myers, like me... Ahem, wut? I didn't say nothin'!!! See you guys later!