Broken Dreams

Prologue

It’s been about a year since I’ve last seen Michael Myers. The night when he turned away and walked out of Smith’s Grove Warren County Sanitarium was when things started to change drastically for me. I was taken into custody by the police and I told them that I was the one that killed Devin Leathers. I told them that Michael had been long gone and he had nothing to do with it-my attempt to try to buy him more time to leave the area. However, by the sight of Devin’s lifeless body with a chair leg through him, I knew they didn’t believe me. 

I told them about Mrs. Pierce and Mr. Brown. 

They didn’t believe me.

If they did, they didn’t seem to care. I was thinking all the staff members of the old sanitarium was in on trying to keep me away from Michael and had the police brain washed so they could get away with so many things. 

That’s the police for you.

So the two are possibly still working at the Sanitarium and possibly pissed at the thought that I was still alive.

However, the next morning when I had woken up from my restless sleep in the county jail, I had learned that a man, who many believe was Michael, had murdered a group of teenagers and only a few had survived. It started an uproar about Michael Myers a monster and needed to stopped. The police didn’t even try to whisper when they spoke so poorly about him around me. 

I was told that my trip to Springwood, Ohio will be that day. They didn’t believe it would be wise to delay it and I was quickly put on the next bus. I was the only one on that bus, so I didn’t have to be handcuffed and I sat just about anywhere I wanted. I was aware I could possibly try to fight and get away, but I didn’t see any point in it. I had no other place to go.

My first arrival was a bit terrifying. 

The sanitarium had a history of many deaths and rapes, and just by looking at some of the other patients, I wished I had tried to get away. 

I was given an all white dress that went to my ankles and a pair of slippers. 

That was it. 

No undergarments in fear that we would try to use them to hurt someone in some way. 

It was embarrassing to roam the halls with wondering eyes on me, especially when I felt as if I was probably the youngest there. So having older men stare at me with yellow grins only made me move closer to the female guard that was with me. 

My room was small with only a bed and a toilet. There was a small barred window above my bed that I could only look out of if I stood on top of my bed and try to heave myself up a bit. Meaning, my room was very dark on a cloudy day. Ohio was a rainy state from what I have learned from my stay here, which was crap since the window allowed rain to pour into my room. So I had no choice but to take the sheet on my bed and use it as a curtain and sleep on a rock hard mattress. 

I didn’t meet my new shrink until my second day there. 

When I first saw him, I didn’t think my life could get any worst. 

He was a large African American man who was in his mid-50’s whose name was Jackson Hewitt. I started to call him Mr. Hewitt, but he asked me to call him Jackson because he didn’t think we should bother with being so formal. I asked him if I could call him Jackass and he stated, “I’ve been called much worst.”

It was then when I realized this guy and myself may actually get along. However, after with what happened with Mrs. Pierce, I had to keep my guard up. We would meet up almost every single day until the end of the month, and he changed it to once a week. He was a casual old man who would at times let a curse word slip or would sneak a flask from his suit jacket’s inside pocket and take a sip. 

I learned a couple things about him over the course of being with him.

He had a wife and two daughters. He was a dog person and he became a shrink because it paid good money. 

I liked that about him. 

He was honest and didn’t bullshit me by telling me that everything will be fine and I will be out of here if I just be honest with him. Not like how Mrs. Pierce did. Instead he would honestly tell me that there is a huge chance I would never get out of here and if I did, there was no way in hell I could make a life for myself. 

It was brutal.

But honest. 

When he and I did meet up, he would bring me McDonald’s and we would talk about our week at first and then slowly make our way into the real business as to why we were together in the first place. I often talked to him about Michael, which helped me a lot in some ways but it also made me miss him. I told him about the curse that I was told about, and Jackass told me how did I know if there was even a way to break it.

I didn’t.

But I told Michael that I would never give up on it.

The months passed by pretty fast. No drama because I refused to make any friends and when a staff member would try to give me a hard time, Jackass would step in and tell them off. Every once in a while, I would get a newspaper so I could read what was going on in the world even though I honestly didn’t care. The only times I actually read anything was when it was the Sunday comics and had something to do with Michael, who no one knew where he was at. 

I would tear the pieces of comics off that I enjoyed and sometimes the articles of Michael and would use gum to stick them onto the wall. The whole story of him blew completely out of control. Some people believed that he was a government agent under cover who was hired to kill people for some stupid reason. Others believed he was a demon that was sent on Earth to kill those that sinned. 

It was all bogus. 

The place began to seem less frightening until I over-heard a couple patients at dinner talk about Springwood’s own personal hell. “They say he appears in people’s dreams and kills them...if they die in their dream, they die for real.”

I turned to the man who was talking to his friends. He was sitting back in his chair and looking at them all, scanning their faces until his eyes stopped at me. 

Grinning, he continued to talk. “Now, he’s the true demon. The son of a thousand maniacs.”

I narrowed my eyes. 

“Who?” I finally asked, ignoring the looks of the others and focused on this man.

The man tilted his head, leaning forward a little in his seat.

“Freddy Krueger.”