"If you drop the weight you are carrying, it is okay. You can build yourself back up out of the pieces."
- K. Ancrum
1/27/77
Today marks the start of my new schedule.
I'm a bit scared to meet my new therapists and have to do the recordings but I'm sure I'll be fine.
This is going to take a little to get used to, again.
Now that I have my schedule on paper, Sam had handed it to me at breakfast, it felt like my bed was way more comfier.
My body didn't want to do anything now, even though I haven't done anything in days.
With a loud groan, I pulled the covers over my head.
I've never been to therapy, but I have done the questions before so I'm sure I'll be fine.
Do I really have to talk about my past?
There's no need to tell my life story to someone I've never met, even if it might help.
Flipping my blanket off my head, I reached over and grabbed the slip of thick paper off my nightstand.
9 A.M
Breakfast
11 A.M
Therapy with Dr. Miller
12 P.M
Free time
1 P.M
Lunch time
2 P.M
Group therapy
3 P.M
Outside time
6:30 P.M
Dinner
Sam told me that the recordings happen at any time he wants to do them, they don't have to happen today and they might not happen for a bit if he doesn't feel like it.
Therefore it's not on the schedule.
So far it was 10:45 and all i want to do is die, just shrivel up and die.
There were uncomfortable butterflies going crazy in my stomach, my nervousness was swallowing me whole.
There's nothing to do during the hours between each other in my old schedule, but that doesnt mean I want everything to be back to back.
I can hardly even walk up and down the fucking stairs for christ sake-
Man i really need to stop being so negative, maybe therapy will also help with that.
A sudden knock at the door snapped me out of my thoughts.
"(Y/N)?"I heard Sam's voice call out my name from the other side of the door.
"Come in!"
I shouted back in response, once he knew it was okay to come inside he unlocked the door.
Walking inside whilst swinging open my door, he smiled at me to which I returned.
"How are you holding up?"
I stared at him dead in the eyes with a fuck you face before groaning and faceplanting on my mattress, dragging the blanket back over my head.
"Oh come on it's not that bad-"
He said with a chuckle.
Walking over towards me and the bed, he plopped on it before ripping over my blanket.
With a loud aeugh, I curled up in a ball next to him.
As he ignored my negativity with a light hearted laugh, he continued to speak.
"Look, I'll get you some chocolate from my office if you don't put up a fight."
Flipping my body up almost instantly towards the elderly man before me, I squinted my eyes at him. "What else you got?"
He smiled at my attempt at negotiation before answering my childish question, "I have a can of sprite in the fridge?"
His statement sounded more like a question, as he didnt know what type of pop i liked.
"Chocolate plus the soda and I promise I won't go bezerk." I raised up my hand, my pinky sticking out.
Looking down at it and back up to meet my eyes, he did one of his bright signature grins before linking pinkies with me.
"Note that we will not be having these rewards every time."
I simply nodded at him with a smirk, we'll see about every week.
Getting up, he popped his fingers before getting into why he was actually in my room.
"I don't really trust you with the stilts anymore due to what happened last time."
I raised my hands up with a big scoff.
"What! It's not even my fault the stilts got trampled over and stolen by crazy people."
They had gone over the tape to figure out what happened to my stilts, why so many people went out the doors at once, and why Michael was helping me.
They found out that the crowd who almost destroyed me in every way shape and form, took the only thing that could help me down the stairs.
Loomis had also scolded the shit out of my floor's main nurses.
"It's not about that, you could have literally died (Y/N)-"
His expression showed his confusion as to why I don't care for my health.
"You've told me that over almost every little thing I do this past week, when have I not been in life threatening situations my whole 18 years of living?"
Shrugging, I rolled my eyes and pressed my lips into a thin line.
With a sigh, he ignored my negativity for the second time.
"Anyways, due to it i have decided that i'm going to allow the nurses, Michael, and me to help you down the stairs."
Does he really think he has control over who can help me or not?
I'm a human being. I don't need him telling me what I can and can't do.
"I dont need your permission to fucking walk Loomis."
He froze up a little bit at the words I laced with venom, my sudden change of behavior caught him off guard, not only that but i called him by his last name.
His eyes widened at me.
"I didn't mean it like that, (Y/N). I'm just worried about your safety here-"
He looked down at his feet as he rubbed the back of his neck anxiously, he really is like a manchild isn't he?
I sighed through my nose, feeling ashamed for snapping at him.
"Im sorry Sam.." I whispered softly, "I'm just upset at the whole therapy thing."
Bringing my legs up to my chest, my ass obviously still planted on the bed, I curled both of my arms around them.
"Don't be, it's me who should be sorry honestly."
His hand reached up to ruffle the floof that sat on top of my head, I leaned into his touch slightly.
"But seriously, it's almost 11 we gotta go."
An urgency erupted in his voice.
Yet another groan fell out of my mouth once he picked me up and carried me off my bed princess style.
I laid my head in his shoulder as we made our way out the door.
"Do you think if i pretended to fall asleep like this i wouldnt have to go?"
His chest rose up and down with a geniune laugh, "As if you're good at pretending."
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𝗣𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗲𝗻𝘁 #𝟴𝟰𝟮 // Michael Myers x Fem! Reader
Fanfiction(Y/N) just got diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder and due to it the law forces her to go into a hospital. On the upsetting journey of trying to fight her case in court, she has to be held in Smith's Grove. During this she bumps into a man...
