I'm Your Boogeyman

October 18, 2013

A/N: I'm re-watching Criminal Minds, and I'm coming up on '100'. Ladies and gentlemen (and everybody else), prepare the tissues and pick out a black outfit. 

You and Michael headed out for the morgue around seven thirty P.M. No one was out. Not even the rebellious teenage hoodlums were out spray-painting anarchy symbols on buildings. Did Haddonfield even have rebellious teenage hoodlums? Either way, you and Michael managed to make it to the long stretch of road leading out of town without seeing anyone. No cars, no people, not even any dogs (which wasn't good in Michael's case). 

Once you reached the road and were well past the 'Welcome to Haddonfield' sign, you asked Michael a question. It had been itching at you since you learned that she died. 

"Why do you hate Laurie so much?" 

Michael stopped dead in his tracks and grunted. He pulled out his trusty pad and paper, and began to write. 

"I had two sisters. One older, one younger. Laurie was younger. I don't remember it too well, because I was six. I remember my older sister, Judith, had her boyfriend over. After he left, I went up into her room and stabbed her. I walked outside just as my parents came home. I got locked up before I could get to them. After I escaped, I looked up 'Edith and Donald Myers' and learned they were dead. I took my mother's headstone, but ever since then, I've been tracking Laurie. She's the one that got away." 

"So, it's out of spite." 

"Whatever you want to call it." 

"That doesn't answer my first question, though. Why do you hate her?" 

"I told you, she's the one that got away. Everybody else is dead, and she should be, too." 

"But, she has a family. You have a niece!" 

"She's locked up, too." 

"Well, what'd she do? Murder somebody?" 

"Yes." 

"...Oh." 

"I want to ask you a question now." 

"Ask away." 

"Why do you hate your aunt and uncle so much?" 

"I- that's ridiculous! I don't hate them, I just-" 

"Wish they were dead?" 

"No! I can't lose anybody else, I just can't!" 

"Lower your voice. Answer the question. I know you hate them. Only a fool couldn't see it." 

You paused for a moment, willing your emotions to lock themselves in a basement and wither away with the rest of the fruit that you were never going to eat. 

"It's like they don't even miss them. My uncle didn't even seem that upset at the funeral. I just-- I don't understand how you can know someone your whole life, and then not even cry when you learn that they're dead. And, they don't even have anything to remember my parents by. There's no pictures of my uncle and my dad, or of all of us, or anything. It's like they never existed." 

"They're apathetic about the matter." 

"That's an understatement. The only person who consoled me at the funeral was a poor nun, and she seemed like she just wanted me to be quite." 

"Do you have their ashes?" 

"They're in a different state. I moved here, remember?" 

"They weren't cremated?"