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It was fine that he didn’t need anyone. There was plenty Michael could do on his own. If he was here, he was fine. Nobody can bother him when he is in his own world, in his own sanctuary. Loomis could go crawl out of a tar pit for all he cared. What’s so evil about a basic need of being in his head? Don’t answer that.
Once again the old Myer’s house was abandoned. At some point they stopped trying to sell it. Much to Michael’s pleasure. It was quiet, it was peaceful and better yet, he was alone. His fingers itched at the plastic rubber of the mask. His breathing made the moisture of it stick to his neck which in return was making him itchy. He quietly took his mask off, his hair a bit all over the place and tangled to the edges of the mask. Ouch.
He tossed the mask on the floor, dust puffing up as he did. Michael never cleaned this place, and it was rather embarrassing to say he doesn’t know how. The Sanitarium taught him a couple things, but basic home maintenance was obviously not one of them. The room was set up in a specific way, however. It couldn’t be exactly like how Michael had his room back then, but there were a few stolen blankets he was fond of he had in a corner. A pile of pretty cool rocks if he had to say so himself. A few sticks. The height of luxury to many can be as simple as a collection of items he finds.
Michael’s knife was still in his hand. He hadn’t even realized it until he heard a gentle “tack, tack, tack” on the wooden floor as he was tapping the metal on it. He held it up as if surprised. The itchiness on his neck lingered and he reached back and felt his hair which was a bit matted was the cause.
A part of him felt a bit of a longing. He wished his mom could brush it out like she used to. Or even- Ack no. No. He shook his head and held his hair out a bit. He turned the knife and reached behind him, his tongue sticking out a bit as he began to chop at his hair, cutting the matting. He dropped the pile in his hand onto the ground and felt the back of his neck. Much better, more freeing. Still itchy. Now there were small bits of hair on his collar. Michael grunted in irritation and tossed the knife along the floor. He gave up.
He inhaled and then exhaled deeply in a sigh. The kind of mournful sigh that dogs gave sometimes. Michael didn’t feel like doing anything now. The rocks stacked in the corner caught his attention and he stared at them for a while before scooting himself over to them. Mindful to not knock them over and he unstacked them carefully. Some of them were smooth and some were very roughly textured. He tried restacking them into two texture types. Somehow that seemed more right than the latter. Michael glanced around now at his room, trying to imagine what he had set up before. He kind of forgot during his lapses, often instead thinking about the bland room he had at the Sanitarium. He scratched his neck as the hair prickled his skin again making him grow quite irritated. Everything was becoming irritating now.
At least at the Sanitarium there were other people he could watch and entertain himself with. Some of them were pretty nice. Taught him how to drive. Or rather told him. One nurse would comb his hair and she was the only one he’d let do it. He flopped over on the wooden floor, sniffling as dust hit his nose. This was boring. And Michael started to grow hungry.
—-
He waited until the older couple stepped out for the night. Michael didn’t particularly care whatever they had planned, but he did care at the fact they left their back door open. It really was ridiculous how many people could be this careless. Not that it mattered to Michael anyway, he would have just kicked down the door, probably. He stepped into the home.
It was expectedly old fashioned. A floral wallpaper tinged yellow with age and wooden floors clean and swept up unlike his home. He stepped heavily to the kitchen where he opened cabinets at random and grabbed a few boxes. Crackers, a jar of peanut butter, some boxed cookies. They were kind of plain branded but it was old people, what can you expect? He opened the fridge, and bent over to look inside. It occurred to Michael he didn’t bring his mask. That’s fine. He didn’t have any urges or plans right now besides grabbing food.
The couple had a jam that was nearly gone, so he took that. A nearly empty carton of milk- he can finish that off. His arms were starting to get full and he turned to the dining table. He placed the items in the middle and went back to the fridge. This couple needed to go grocery shopping. He looked on the counter and opened the bread box and took the loaf and plopped it on the table as well. He didn’t have any way of keeping half of this stuff good, but he didn’t really care.
There was a moment where he remembered hearing his mom call for him, and he walked downstairs to find a sandwich and chips ready for him for lunch. It was always his favorite time because he could sit and eat while mom read. He liked it when things were quiet. Which is why he didn’t realize how obnoxiously loud the old couple’s dog was barking at him when he finally came back to the present. He looked at the dog, small, and honestly, easily kickable. There was an irritated feeling in his chest but he pushed it down and opened the loaf of bread to toss a piece at the bratty dog which easily gave in. Weak thing.
After a bit more rummaging, Michael pulled the table cloth full of food together and gripped it at the end like a sack and lifted it. This was so much more efficient. He nudged the dog aside and stepped back out in the back heading straight for his home. Michael basically set up a picnic for himself, with the table cloth a protector from the dusty floor. He got on his knees stiffly and began to organize the food he got together and went to town. Fingers in the peanut butter and jam, throwing the bread in his mouth like a misplaced PB&J. Wash it down with some milk.
“Michael, were you raised in a barn?” He could practically hear his mother say. He was not being very clean about his food, and it was rare to be as hungry as he was already. His mom will just have to forgive him for this part. This was his peace of mind and he was well off in it.