Disclaimer: I don't own the Halloween series. I wish I did but I don't.
It’s true what they say. The eyes really are the windows to the soul. And that night in the attic, when I looked into Michael’s eyes they weren’t as black as people said they were. There was still good there, hidden behind all the anger and rage there was still good in his eyes. I realized that then.
After all the bad things he’d done he was still human. I could tell he didn’t want to do those things. That he didn’t want to be bad. I didn’t know why he did them but I knew he didn’t want to. I knew that because he cried. I made him cry.
I made the boogeyman cry.