Chapter Four: 15 Years Later

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  The young bubbly girl Brooklyn grew up in Smiths Grove for the rest of her days. She's now an 25 year old woman who rejects everything and anyone around her, even Marian. The doc tried for years to help her, but she refuses to speak anymore about herself. There was nothing left for her to say. Brooklyn hasn't seen her friend in years, ever since that day of the incident. The only thing that kept her sane was the mask and her ability to draw. Her skills gradually gotten better over the years and her wall was decorated with her art.

  The door opened with a guard stepping in. "Lunch time, Brook." She got up from the bed and stepped out, looking down on the ground. The slim girl sheepishly walked in the cafeteria, waiting in line for her food. Her body started to look malnourish from the lack of food she consumed over the years. Brook grabbed her tray and sat by her lonesome, picking at the cold hard meat. During lunch, she would sneak a sketchbook and pen to draw or play with the plastic fork and straw. Entering the cafeteria was a tall lumbering man with chains down to his wrist and waist. Two orderlies led him to a table to sit. "It's that freak again." One patient said while chewing on their food, then others hushed from his presence. Brooklyn stared at the large man and squinted her eyes, observing the matted blonde hair and ridged mask. "He seems..familiar." Most of the time, Brook would skip lunch and go to the bathroom or outside the courtyard to get away from everyone. Amazing how the security here doesn't catch her.

The man sat down and stared at the floor, twiddling with the chains. The curiosity was coursing through her like a raging bull. She wanted to get his attention, but didn't want to walk over to say 'Hey who are you?'. Brooklyn pulled out her pen from her pocket, writing something on her palm, 'Nice mask, you made it?' Not a smart question to ask. She threw the pen next to him, hoping it'll bring his attention . The man looked up at the direction to see Brook holding her palm out to him. He read the words and picked up the pen. Doing the same, he wrote a message in return. 'Yes.' The poor handwriting was still legible to her when she read it on his palm.

Then it hit her. The mask. That must be Michael Myers, no, that is Michael.

Brooklyn covered her mouth, tears began to form. She was overwhelmed with many emotions. The boy who practically grew up with her at Smiths Grove is back. Michael now noticed who he was 'speaking loud to and wanted to walk over to give her a long big hug, but those chains kept him away from her and the outside world. She needs to find a way to talk to him again, maybe after lunch when everyone goes to the courtyard. They both stared at each other for minutes until time was up. Everyone was escorted outside. Now was her chance.

Brooklyn shuffles over through the crowd of patients. Michael's eyes followed her and they once again stumble across a tight long hug. Brooklyn was wrapped around his long large arms, almost being lifted off the floor, "Michael! I missed you so much." With the chains around her waist, he quickly let's go. "I thought they transfer you to a different asylum." He shook his head, not choosing to speak. The two orderlies saw the two and had to take him away from any patient, even her.
"Wait wait, can I spend a little time with him?" One guard, Noel, spat back, "What? You his little girlfriend or somethin'? Sorry sweetcheeks, but this fucker can't be around you other freaks." He tugged Michael's arm for him to walk away from her. Brook clutches her fist and stared at them. They can't take him away from her anymore.

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