Dearly Beloved

Author: YolandaFriella

Hello Halloween/Michael Myer fans! I'm going through the re-edit the chapters, seeing I made some habitual mistakes, so I'm just letting you know this =) If this is your first time to read this, I sincerely hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoy writing it. This may not seem as the summary says, because it's only the beginning. Luckily for you, I have so many more chapters up. So when you finish this one, continue on! :D

Thank you and here's chapter one ^-^


Michael found his respected seat, located in the back of his 6th grade classroom.

It was a fresh year, his first year of middle school. Unlike most students, who glanced around fretfully, Michael could care less about his education. He only wanted to get this dreadful day over with, to return to his much preffered enviornment, which was back at his house in his secluded room so he couldn't be bothered. Most would say Michael was abnormal; he liked to call himself "different".

His teacher, Ms. Mabry, smiled welcomingly at each young pupil as they entered the room. Michael, out of boredom, stared down at his hands, tapping them rhythmically against the desk. He didn't like school; he hated it. He disliked the teachers who pretended to adore their "children", even though they secretly hated their job. He thought they lied when they say they loved their job.

Bored of tapping his finger, Michael stole an uninterested glance at the desk next to him, seeing nobody sitting in it. The teacher assigned every student an individual seat by taping a name card on the top of every little desk so the proper student knew which was theirs. He discovered the name.

Amber Marie Rarrat

He lifted an eyebrow. So his neighbor this year was going to be a girl known as Amber? Great. Without thinking, Michael judged her. From the name of Amber, he pictured a over-bubbly girl, probably into cheerleading and such. He frowned in disappoinment, his hopes of finding a friend for once crumbling. Besides, he seldomly got along with girls-especially cheerleaders.

"Hello," A voice startled Michael out of his thoughts rather curtly. A girl sat down in the seat, smiling over at at him sincerely. Michael sure wasn't used to this behavior. She was pretty, in her own way. With fiery hair that fell softly against her collar bone, the girl decorated her hair with a glittered headband. Michael was shocked at her appearance. Now, he thought of her as the "artsy" kind of girl. "My name is Amber. It's a pleasure to meet you!" She leaned back in her chair, her dress riding up a little on her legs. Michael quickly looked away, knowing it was improper for an upcoming teenage boy to stare in certain places; especially with girls. Michael, curiously, looked around at the other girls in the room, and the redhead was the only one wearing a dress. Whoa. "What's your name?"

Silently, Michael pointed to his name tag. The girl blushed in response. "Sorry. I'm not the, uh, smartest one here."

"No, you're a mastermind," A boy told her mockingly, sitting in the desk directly behind her. Michael recognized the boy. He was, in his mind, his arch rival-Boyd. Oh how he hated that boy, with a flaming passion. Michael glared daggers into the sneering boy's back, his hand gripping onto the edge of the desk to release his sudden fury. His eyes snapped back to the girl's when she exclaimed happily.

Amber beamed. "Why thank you!"

Michael heard Boyd snicker. He looked back at the girl, beyond words. Has she ever hear of sarcasm? Was something wrong with her? Perhaps a disorder? Seeing her smiling at the kids walking in, he knew something was different about her. So, he decided to speak up.

"Is something wrong with you?" He asked inaudibly, trying to not let other people hear their conversation. He didn't mean it insultingly; he truly wanted to know out of curiosity.

The girl shot him a worried look. "No. I don't think so. Why? Does it look like I'm sick or something?" She rubbed fiercely at her cheek, "Do I have something on my face?"

Michael held back a laugh at her panicked expression. "No. I, just...never mind." He was silent for a moment then asked, "Are you new here?"

"Yup," She chirped, "just got here yesterday." She smiled again at some girl who was eyeing her like a bacteria, "The people here are so welcoming,"

Michael blinked. "Uh, I—"

"Class, I think this is everyone." Ms. Mabry said from the front of the classroom, "welcome to junior high!"

Michael took one more glance at the girl.

She was currently waving at a boy who was gazing at her like she was nuts. Michael couldn't help but smile.

Yeah, she was definitely different.


Michael saw her again after school.

And she was crying. Not just crying faintly but weeping, sobbing. He stood from across the street, silently staring at her tiny form, shaking from the violent sobs racking her body.

"Are you alright?" He asked as he hurried over to her, sympathy making itself known within his chest. She sat down on the curb of the street, crying into her hands uncontrollably.

"No," She told him honestly, not looking up from her hands. "I'm not okay."

"What's wrong?" When she never answered him, Michael instantly felt bad for asking. Maybe she didn't want to discuss it with him. It had to be peronal to her. Sitting down besides her, he peered down at her. "I'm sorry. You don't have to answer that. I shouldn't have asked."

Several students walked by, pausing to laugh at the girl crying for an unknown reason. Michael instantly wanted to show them what it's like to be in pain. And it involved a fork.

"He was so kind to me," She muttered into her hands, her voice muffled. Michael had to strain his ears to hear her. He thought maybe she was talking about someone dying in her family—a father or brother. "I loved him so much."

"I lost someone in my family, too," Michael admitted softly, thinking of his father. He was confused by his actions. Why was he telling her this? He's never told anyone this! However, seeing her usually vibrant face full of tears and green eyes bright red, her auburn hair plastered to her face from crying, she reminded him of his little sister, Boo. She looked like a young child, not a 6th grader. He felt pity for her. "I know what it's like; what you're going through. It's not easy, but you learn to move on. And the experience makes you stronger."

"His name was Copper," She confessed, crying again. Michael cocked his head to the side. Copper, indeed, was an unusual name for a father or any human being. "He was about the size of my hand," Okay, Michael thought to himself, this keeps getting weirder and weirder. Finally, she looked up and said, "He was my eight year old beagle."

Oh. That explains everything.

Wait.

Michael gaped down at her.

She was crying, not because someone related to her died, but because her eight year old beagle died? This girl was extremely weird, even Michael had to admit.

"I've had him since I was a baby," She continued, and Michael was stunned when she suddenly lunged at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his midsection to bury her head in his chest, crying even more.. He honestly didn't know what to do. Stiffening, he let her hug him but didn't have the heart to hug her back. He sat next to her all day but he still didn't know anything about her. "I loved him, Michael! He was my baby, my life. I taught him how to sit, to shake his hand, to roll over! Oh God! I don't know what I'll do," She sobbed on. Michael could only stare down at her, wishing he had the heart to help her—to comfort her—but he just couldn't do it.

He didn't know her enough.

"I miss him so much," she whimpered into Michael's now stained shirt, and Michael opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

Eventually, after a few agonizing minutes of hearing the pathetic girl sob, Amber pulled away and wiped her eyes slowly. She smiled sadly up at Michael. "I'm sorry. Oh, your shirt's all ruined." Michael said nothing, just stared at her. "Well, thanks for, er, listening to me. I'm terribly sorry about your shirt." She stood up and Michael followed suit, still gaping at her.

This didn't make since to him. Who would cry over something so stupid like a dog?

"You're a nice guy," Amber told him happily, "wanna come over to my house?"

Michael instantly obliged, "No. My mom wants me home to help her clean."

Her face fell for a moment, but then brightened up. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow, Michael!" She waved goodbye then took off running, vanishing from Michael's eyes as she ran off.

Michael stood in the same spot for awhile, just staring at the spot where he sat with her. It didn't' seem real to him. Did he really just sit with a girl he hardly knew, and let her cry all over him, over an animal? Shaking his head, Michael decided to head somewhere where everything made sense.

Home.