Torment. Agony. Misery.
In those brief five minutes, Emma felt like a cat whose can of tuna had just been snatched away—her heart was bursting with frustration and bitterness, yet she had no one to vent to.
What made it worse was that the winner happened to be the classmate sitting right next to her. For someone who'd always dominated the awards, this was a humiliating blow.
And to top it off, everyone seemed to be sneaking glances in her direction.
Emma had no choice but to force a smile and clap along. Otherwise, people might see through her facade—see her annoyance, her jealousy, her anger. None of which, of course, fit the image of a "model student."
As far as she was concerned, her essay was clearly better than that so-called winner's. That guy, Barry, didn't deserve the medal at all!
But why him? Why not her?
Emma couldn't figure it out—but deep down, she felt like she'd caught onto something.
---
Between Classes
"Emma, look at it! The medal's huge and shiny. I'm telling you, this has to be the best one they've ever given out. I bet it's even nicer and more valuable than any of yours!"
The annoying black-haired boy leaned over, flaunting the medal in her face like he had no sense of boundaries. Emma's fake smile was starting to crack.
"I could tell earlier you were really eyeing my medal. Here, wanna touch it?"
She couldn't even remember when this transfer student, Barry, had joined the class. But now, he was smugly waving his prize in front of her face, practically inches away.
"No thanks. I've got plenty of those at home."
Emma tried to pull her gaze away from the medal, but her longing eyes betrayed her. And of course, Barry noticed.
He grinned slyly, then set the medal down on the desk. Slowly, he unzipped his backpack—and pulled out another medal, almost twice as big.
Emma froze. But he wasn't done yet.
A third medal. A fourth. A fifth… all the way to twenty.
His entire bag was full of medals, now spread out across the desk. The golden gleam was almost blinding.
How… how was this even possible?!
"Oh yeah! It's my medals' 'airing time' again. Only twenty so far—that's not enough. But I heard this school gives out lots of awards every year, so I guess my collection's about to grow again."
With two medals dangling from each finger, Barry "accidentally" waved his hands in front of Emma's face.
Her expression grew darker by the second until he finally laughed, ran off, and started showing off to the rest of the class—drawing every pair of eyes in the room.
All the attention was on him.
Even Emma had never gotten that kind of spotlight before.
Envy. Jealousy. Rage.
Why was there even a Barry in this class when she was already here?
He existed purely to compete with her—it had to be that.
Fine. Time would tell.
---
Later That Night – Emma's Bedroom
"They're mine. All mine! You can't have them!"
Her sleep-talking grew louder, her body twitching as she suddenly jolted awake. Her flushed little face mixed with frustration and sadness.
But there was no time for feelings.
Throwing off the blanket, she jumped out of bed barefoot, flipped on the light, and rushed to her shelf.
"They're still here… my medals, my trophies…"
She lovingly ran her fingers over them—her pride, her proof of victory. A warm, full satisfaction washed over her.
That night, Emma fell asleep hugging one of her trophies.
---
Haddonfield Town
Today was Halloween—the one day of the year kids looked forward to the most.
Dressed as ghosts and monsters, they'd go door to door, chanting "trick or treat" and collecting candy.
This world's version of Halloween was a little different from the one in her previous life. The traditions and origins were roughly the same, but the date was different.
Holidays were good, after all—a rare chance to relax and have fun.
But evil… evil was also on its way.
Oh yes, he would come.
Through his little scarecrow doll, Barry had already fended off multiple nightmare attacks from the "masked man."
In front of Barry, that white-masked killer couldn't do much—at least, not in dreams.
But Michael Myers, the man behind the mask, was getting stronger. Each invasion hit harder, closer to reality—closer to Jamie.
That monster—on Halloween night—would come.
This wouldn't be his first appearance.
From online searches and Jamie's recurring nightmares, Barry had already gathered plenty of intel on Michael Myers.
He was practically unkillable.
No matter how many times people thought he was dead, he always came back.
And anyone who dared to threaten Barry's dream-connected friend was asking for death.
There's a saying: you can't guard against a thief forever.
So this time, Barry decided to step in himself.
If Myers dared show up, he'd make sure to rip that mask off—and punch him right in the face.
He'd already come early, disguised himself, and quietly swapped out the scarecrow doll.
But what he saw next wasn't good.
---
Because on that Halloween day, Jamie refused to wear a costume and join the others. After all, the infamous Michael Myers was her uncle.
The other kids mocked her for it.
Hurt and humiliated, Jamie argued back before finally running off.
Once she got away from the bullies, she made up her mind—tonight, she would wear a costume.
When she met up with her sister Rachel, she told her the plan.
Ten minutes later, Jamie stood alone in a discount store's kids' costume section, her little scarecrow doll hanging from her waist.
After browsing a while, she picked out a red-and-white clown suit—unaware that it was the very same outfit her uncle, Michael Myers, had worn decades ago as a child…
The night he killed his own sister.
And now, by pure chance—or something darker—Jamie had chosen that exact same costume.
"Jamie, listen to your uncle. Don't pick that one. Don't be a clown."
"Huh? Who's there?"
Just as Jamie was about to call Rachel over to pay, she heard a voice whisper to her.
She froze.
"It's me, your dear Uncle Barry. I foresaw you'd be in danger, so I came to protect you."
What? That creepy guy from her dreams—sounding… gentle?
Jamie blinked, stunned again.
"Where are you?" she whispered.
"In your heart."
Jamie glanced down at her chest, wide-eyed.
"Just kidding. I'm the little scarecrow doll beside you."
She picked up the doll and saw it blink. That's when Jamie realized—her mysterious "dream uncle" had somehow crossed into the real world.