His Girl - Michael Myers x Reader {Rewrite}

✗Chapter 5: Provoking Photo✗

The rest of school was relatively fun - the lessons being a bit boring. But sitting next to Michael had its perks; the two of you could talk and help each other out. There was a boy on your right side that was friendly, but you preferred Michael's company rather than his. Eventually class was over and it was time to go home. You and Michael walked outside and saw your mother waiting for you, her anxious expression clearing.

"(Y/n)! How was your day, dear? I've been so worried about you! Were the other kids okay? Were the teachers nice to you? Did the day go well? Tell me everything!" She rambled on and on as soon as you approached her - a faint sigh of annoyance slipping through your lips.

"Mom this is Michael, he's my friend. Can he come over today?" You avoided her questions and instead held Michael's hand, giving it a soft squeeze.

"You...You made a friend?" Your mother sounded surprised, which made you roll your eyes and feel a little bit hurt.

"I mean, of course he can! Michael was it? Very nice to meet you." She brightly agreed as she gave him a hug. You tensed up - thinking he wouldn't like it - but he grinned and took the hug quite happily.

"So what would you two like to do? And (Y/n), you haven't unpacked everything yet - so don't forget about that." Your mother booped your nose playfully before beginning to walk, the two of you following.

"Your mom's nice." Michael whispered to you shyly, holding his rucksack with one hand as he tagged along next to you.

"I guess." You ruefully smiled - letting go of your faint irritation and deciding to stay calm. Once you got home you and Michael went into the living room; your friend unzipping his bag and taking out the DVD.

"You took the movie to school with you?" You were a little confused - why would he take it to school?

"It's my favourite movie, I don't trust my family. I want to keep it safe." He grew defensive, handing you the DVD. He obviously trusted you...so why you and not his family?

"You don't trust your family? Why ever not?" You questioned incredulously.

"My sister doesn't give a shit about me, my mom's boyfriend is a bully and my mom isn't home much." Michael included a swear in his reply and it made you flinch - your ten-year-old mind being a tad intimidated.

"Surely there must be someone you trust." You tried to understand his situation; sympathy always being your strongpoint.

"I trust you. And...And Boo." He confessed quietly, his voice laced with affection.

"Boo? Is she a friend? Or a girl you like?" You attempted to guess but failed as Michael shook his head, amused by your attempts.

"Boo's my baby sister, she's less than a year old. She's really cute, I even have a picture of her. Wanna see?" Michael's eager tone made you grin and you nodded, smiling.

"Sure. Let's see the cute baby." You responded lightly - eager to see her. Bet she was adorable.

Michael reached inside his backpack and pulled out a stack of photos, accidentally dropping them all over the floor. You automatically went to help pick them up, freezing when your eyes landed on a specific one. It was a picture of a rat, but it was...it was dead. Its mutilated body had its entrails halfway out - blood staining the poor creature. Why did he have a photograph of this terrible moment? What was it doing in Michael's bag?

Your eyes were widened in shock and Michael noticed this, his eyes darting to the picture you were focused on. You snapped out of your stunned stance as he snatched the photo back, acting cold and defensive once again. You couldn't believe what you just saw; your body quivering slightly and your heart racing with anxiety. But you knew exactly what was happening to you. You'd dealt with panic attacks ever since you were a toddler - the stressful situation hitting you hard.

"(Y/n)...? What's happening to you? Are you okay?" Michael clasped your shoulders and tried to steady you, concern shining from his blue orbs.

"T-T-That p-picture...W-What was that p-picture-?" You stuttered as you tried to face your shock - the disturbing image swimming around in your mind.

"It was-It was nothing! I didn't even show you a picture, I was trying to find the one of Boo!" He denied frantically.

"What's going on here? (Y/n)?!" Your mother came in and then rushed to your side, alarmed by your condition.

"What happened to her? What did you do?" She asked sharply; highly protective of you.

"Nothing, she freaked out on her own." Michael quickly lied.

"She's having a panic attack. (Y/n), darling, focus on me. C'mon focus, you can do it. Deep breaths, in and out. Like this, see?" Your mother demonstrated deep breathing and guided you towards the sofa, taking the DVD out of your hand.

"I'll go get your medication." She hurried out of the room - Michael following her as they left you alone.

"I-Is there anything I can do? Will she be okay?" He asked fearfully, unhappy about what had taken place a few minutes ago.

"(Y/n)'s panic attacks are usually triggered by something sad, or something sorrowful. So despite you saying nothing happened, I want to know what made her break down like that - and I want to know now, young man." Your mother snapped worriedly.

"We were just talking about families - nothing major, no big deal." Michael muttered, making her eyes narrow in anger.

"So that's what set her off! How dare you bring up her deceased father in front of her! I can't believe this! I told the school specifically to warn the other kids - and they ignored me!" She ranted as she grew enraged.

"I-I didn't-"

"This is exactly why I didn't want her to get all buddy-buddy with people who wouldn't understand her. She's extremely fragile!" Your mother hissed and went to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of pills.

"I want you to stay away from my daughter. Now, I think it's best you leave." She icily stated, making Michael freeze.

"But we were going to watch a movie together - she's my friend!" He protested stubbornly.

"Her panic attacks usually last around half an hour, I don't think she'll want company during that time. Besides, I don't think ten-year-olds should be watching IT - I'm surprised your mother let you watch that." Your mother remarked rudely, folding her arms.

"(Y/n)'s my friend, I have to make sure she's alright. Please don't make me leave." Michael begged as he cast a desperate look in the living room's direction.

"If you really are her friend, you'll want the best for her. And the best thing for her is to be away from bothersome young boys...like yourself." She strictly spoke before opening the front door and throwing him a dark look.

His pleading glance turned to a hateful glare as he slowly walked out, the emotion draining from his face whilst the cold look appeared once more. It was like he switched between being human...and being a predator. Like a psychological light switch. On and off. On and off. On. And. Off. Your mother shut the door behind him and hurried back into the living room, making you her priority one as she fretted over you again.

"I'm sorry I took so long, sweetheart. Now here's your water bottle out of your bag, you can use it to swallow your pills." She gently passed you the bottle and tipped a few pills into your hand - trying to help.

"T-Thanks." You stammered shakily, trying to regain your sense of self. You felt unreal; detached; unstable. It didn't feel right, or normal, or comfortable at all. In fact it only made you more afraid.

"Come now, let's get you into bed. You need the rest, what with such a stressful day." She kissed your forehead before helping you up - patiently supporting you towards the stairs.

Yet one question echoed at the back of your mind, begging to be answered and put to rest. Why did Michael have a disgusting picture of a disemboweled rodent in his bag?