Author's Note: So I'm not dead. I'll spare you the details and excuses for why I neglected this story. I'm back now. (I may not upload very frequently even after this but I will try not to let too many months pass by)

Mabel dropped me off a few streets away from my house, declaring before she drove off that she'd arrive by eight and that she'd deal with her father's reprimands later. I watched the car disappear down the road; with a distant excitement but also fear. What we were going to do later I knew was dangerous, especially for her. I wasn't thinking about how much danger I'd be putting myself into. It seems that I was well-acquainted with danger at this point.

My eyes drifted off the concrete below my sneakers and onto a neighbour of mine: an old woman hanging up wet clothes on a clothesline. I watched a dark coat sway in the wind, my skin suddenly clammy. It reminded me of something.

"Staring is awful rude, you know."

I blinked. The old woman was giving me a drop-dead stare. From the edge of the lawn, I caught a whiff of some sweet flower and cat fur. She always smelled like that.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," I blurted out and hurried past her, feeling her gaze burn a hole in the back of my skull. I didn't mean to offend her.

Baby had been quiet in my head for a while. I took this time to wonder about myself.

Am I really not human? I feel pain and emotions. I can't be a clone, I do have a belly button-

"Ugh. Sometimes I regret being inside you hearing your stupid internal rantings," Circus Baby grumbled.

Finally, she speaks, I thought.

"If I annoy you so much, why can't you leave?" I prodded, just curious to hear her reply.

"You already know why, you idiot. I'm not going to go over it again. Just get us home, please."

"You said please," I noted, honestly just bored and seeing if I can make her madder so she'd shut up. It worked; she said nothing. But I quickly grew tired of the silence. As I walked along the sidewalk giving waves to passersby, I was torn between wanting Baby's stupid ass to leave and dreading the moment she actually does.

I'm going crazy. I don't want her around anymore. I'm fine being alone.

At the next house I passed, a guy in a lawn chair who I barely remembered to be Fred Something popped open a sleepy eye to stare at me. After about five seconds, I considered quoting 'It's rude to stare'. But I increased my pace and shrugged off the growing feeling that he could see right through me.

Why were they staring at me? Could they see right through me?

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I passed the local playground, where today no kids were in sight. A distant thumping brought my attention to the basketball court on the opposite side of the street. I watched some kids pass a ball back and forth- the action was mesmerising.

"3."

"What?" I mumbled, having barely heard Circus Baby. She didn't reply so I shrugged and continued walking. Or I thought I did. My legs stuck to the concrete underneath my sneakers, refusing to move at all.

"I-I can't move my legs," I realised, then swallowed back my heartbeat before asking, "Are you doing this?" Baby didn't reply.

"Baby?" There was a trembling panic in my voice. "Answer me!"

"What are you yelling about?"

I stumbled forward, my muscles aching from all the tensing-up. Grasping the gate fence so I wouldn't fall, I took a breath to calm myself.

"What happened?" I asked.

"What do you mean, 'What happened'? You're in control right now," Baby replied rather snarkily.

I let myself process that. "Wh- what is that supposed to mean- 'Right now'?"

Baby kept quiet.

"Baby?"

I sighed. There she goes again. Being cryptic and secretive. Wonderful.

"If you are to stay in my body, which is still under discussion, you can't do stuff like that," I grumbled. "It's-it's weird."

"I didn't m-" She started, but an orange blur barely in our view quieted her. The basketball that had previously been passed around the court rolled past my shoe. I stopped it.

"Hey," called one of the three kids. "Pass the ball back?" I picked up and tossed it with little effort in their general direction in the hopes one of them would catch it. I never played basketball. The kid who caught it gave a nod.

"D'wanna play?" asked he, sitting the ball on his hip. The others approached and stared intently, awaiting my response and reminding me of the Bidybabs.

"I-" I almost admitted to having never played basketball but I bit back my tongue. "I'm busy with- doing, ah, adult stuff, so, uh, catch you later." One boy flicked the brim of his neon pink hat, his lips thinning.

"You don't know how to play, do you?"

I swallowed back the heat that rose to my face. It's not my fault Father put my older brother in sports instead! The shortest boy shook his head. "Nah. He's just chicken."

"Chicken!" repeated the kid in the back.

"Hey! I'm not chicken!" I protested, sounding like a kid myself. "I just don't want to play with-" The boys began to imitate chickens.

"I'm just going to walk away," I huffed and did as such.

Baby's voice startled me, as usual. "Funtime Foxy wants you to play. He has taken great interest in this activity."

"Whatever," I said under my breath. That was a mistake. My left leg froze mid-stride.

"H-hey!" I yelped, trying to fight it. I tottered in place- they were forcing me to turn around. The struggle tired me easily and I gave a defeated groan, "Okay, okay! I'll go. By myself." I clenched my fists, feeling like a defiant toddler.

They let me walk back to the basketball court. The boys stopped in their play to cock their heads at me. I spoke before they could, "I… it turns out I might have a little time to play." The kids grinned in unison.

"Cool," remarked pink hat boy. "You can join Ricky, he's by himself." He gestured to the short kid- he looked familiar to me but I couldn't figure out why.

My limbs were heavy as they moved by themselves- it was awkward at first, but after a while and with my input, we worked together to create fluid movements. Basketball was fun with the kids- they didn't tease my lack of skill as much as I thought they were going to. It helped to be taller than them. Filled with the essence of excitement that resonated from the bodies within me, I caught the ball and sprinted for the basket. My feet pushed off the ground.

"Slam dunk!" I cried- and so did a voice layered underneath mine. I gripped the basket rim before realising I'd actually done it. The kids's cheers underneath me was cut to a halt as a loud creak sounded. The rusty backboard could not handle my weight, it seemed.

"Shit," I breathed before losing my grip and smacking my back against concrete. Before I could even blink, the backboard snapped off its post. And landed directly on top of me. The thick piece of metal knocked the wind out of my lungs and threatened to flatten them. I felt like I was going to cough up a horse.

"Hmm," I heard Baby mumble. "We did not consider how much we would weigh altogether in this body." The distant clamour of the kids flipping out grew closer as they approached.

"Dude!"

"Damn, is he dead?"

"Are you dead?"

I took a shaky breath before shoving the basketball goal off my body. Six wide eyes peered down at me.

"Oh, he's fine. I thought we were gonna get charged for murder."

"Are you okay, dude?" With a pained groan, I sat up. The hurt had subsided and now a nagging ache sprawled across my body. "Yeah, I'm-"

"YOU BROKE THE GOAL?!" a shriek from across the court interrupted me. An invisible bullet shot right through my heart. Sasha?! I scrambled to my feet as if I hadn't just been crushed by a basketball goal.

"Oh, hey," I tried to act like nothing happened. "H-how's it going?" My ex approached, her face bright red from laughter.

"I've never seen anyone pull a stunt like that before!" she chuckled and wiped a tear from her eye. "You don't weigh that much last time I- what have-"

Ricky interrupted with a squint and the ghost of a smile. "Is this the 'friend' that you would loudly 'play with' at night?"

"Shut up, twerp," a flustered Sasha snapped, her smile gone. "We're not seeing each other anymore." She fumbled with an unlit cigarette for too long. We didn't give each other eye contact.

"So, uh, how are you?" Sasha redirected the conversation. "Other than sore from getting pinned by a basketball goal?" I paused.

There are five robots in my body right now, along with my dead sister's trapped soul and maybe my mother, too. I'm pretty sure I died as a child but I'm alive anyway. I just learned my father is a child murderer, and I'm going to a maybe haunted pizzeria later because why not?

"I'm good," I finally replied. I opened my mouth to say more but Sasha started first.

"I don't think I ever introduced you to my cousin." She ruffled Ricky's hair and ignored his whines. "He's a smartass." Ricky tore himself away and joined his friends, who were starting another game with the other goal. Sasha tightened her lips.

"I thought you would have had plans- been out today. With someone."

I shrank. "I've been single since you left, Sasha." She grunted, finding it hard to believe, but not before flinching at the mention of her name.

"Um, have those douchebags still been giving you trouble?" I changed the subject.

Sasha rocked on her heels. "No. Not since what happened." She paused to light her cigarette. "I think they're afraid to encounter you again." That memory swirled around my head like a static-filled tornado. The ringing in my ears… the reflection of bloody coils and wires staring back at me with glowing eyes- I sucked my teeth.

"What-what did you see that night?"

Sasha replied carefully. "What do you mean?"

I rubbed the nape of my neck. "I mean, I wanna hear your perspective." I saw her eyebrows twitch.

"I- you know they beat your ass. It didn't look- normal, though. I-I don't really know what I saw… For a second, it looked like your face had split down the middle- half made of like, plastic and metal wires and shit- but I'm sure that wasn't right. I didn't see that like that, I- I was in shock. You know about my uncle."

The event played out in my head, but I couldn't quite focus on it. "The three of you had started to gag."

"Oh yeah, there was this super loud ringing in my ears. I don't know why it made me feel sick. My head was spinning and I felt like that time I snorted Fun-Dip powder with Abby but, you know, nauseous, too."

"Yeah," I mumbled but I wasn't really paying attention. Did I cause that?

"But that-that's the feeling you get when you see too much blood."

Her words repeated in my head. -your face had split down the middle- plastic and metal wires- My eye twitched as my stomach began to churn. I kept trying to deny it- over and over- it wasn't real, I didn't see that. My eyes can't glow. I'm human. My breathing quickened. I knew I was lying.

"You are an idiot," Baby prodded. "I've already shown you what happened." I wanted to tear her out of my ears. I have to talk to Father. He has to give me answers for this. He has to-

"You were always talking about being different than everybody else." A faint smirk appeared on Sasha's face. "What if you're really an alien or-or clone or a robot or something?" My breath caught in my throat.

"I don't want to be," I barely said, hugging my arms. Sasha didn't expect that reaction.

"I-I was joking, Mike, you can't-"

My voice interrupted with a weak shudder. "I'm not supposed to exist- he told me that. He told me that. He- he never lied!"

"What's that supposed to mean? Mike-"

I couldn't stop myself. My skin grew hot as my thoughts spewed out of my mouth. I couldn't stop. "My father, he brought me back, he- I'm literally just a walking talking mess of scrap parts from his shed! I'm not supposed to be alive! And-and-and even after th-the Scooper, I still live. I've got, like, five animatronics LIVING inside my body and I can't get rid of them without getting rid of myself!"

"Mike, you're not making any sense!"

"Nothing makes sense! I can't have a normal life anymore- Father took that away from me the moment he PUT ME BACK TOGETHER!"

"STOP IT!" Sasha shut me up, grasping my arms tightly. I blinked back tears.

I'm not supposed to be alive, I'm not supposed to exist. I've been lying to myself, not Father.

"You might have gotten brain damage, Michael," Sasha told me, her eyes glossy as she tried to keep her cool. "Get checked out-"

"I can't!" I yelled and yanked my arms away from her. "I'm scared! I'm hurt! I don't understand anything! And nobody understands! And… and I miss you." A bead of sweat fell from my nose. Sasha wore an expression that sickened my stomach.

"Michael, your eyes are glowing."

The words sent chills running through my veins. Light-headed and feverish, I took one shaky breath after the other. Not again… If it weren't for Sasha grabbing me, I would have fainted.

"Hey," she spoke softly but cautiously, as if to an enraged animal. "I-I really think you should talk to your dad about this. You don't look so good right now, and you-you're saying a lot of things I don't understand. But please, don't-don't say that you weren't meant to exist." After an eternity, I looked into her eyes.

"Okay," the words eased out with my heavy breaths. "Okay. I'm sorry." I wiped my now-slick face. "I'm sorry you ever loved such a stupid trash robot clone person-" Sasha's glare quieted me.

"You're not trash. I don't know what you are, but… I- I know you. You're kind-hearted and affectionate, maybe an idiot sometimes, but worth so much more than trash." She faltered, hesitating, then stepped forward to wrap her arms around me. The embrace was hot and sticky, an uncomfortable contact, but- for just a second- I felt like a real human.

Until Circus Baby ruined the moment. "Michael, you have to accept that you are not real. You were recreated by a grieving father who couldn't live with his mistakes. All you are now is a host for me and my friends-"

Shut up, I aimed the thought at her. I know.

Sasha broke up the hug to stare into my eyes. I put on a half-hearted smile while terrible thoughts raged in my head. She will be my last ever lover. Nobody will want to love a walking talking scrap heap.

"Thank you," I forced myself to say. "Maybe we were meant to be just friends."

"Yeah," Sasha answered, looking away from me. She fiddled with the hem of her shirt. "By the way, I knew it was a misunderstanding."

I raised my head. "You did?" Why did you leave me, then?

"Yeah… I just… I know you're not the cheating type. You're too clingy for that. You wouldn't leave me for the local slut. I was just… too blinded by my anger in the moment to see that. After some smokes and thought, I was like, he didn't cheat, he was just being dumb." She paused. "And I think you're right, I think we could be good friends in time, just-just not right now when the water's still warm."

I didn't know what to say.
"Okay," I mumbled, clutching my arm.

Sasha left me to take Ricky home. The other two boys left without so much as a nod to me, and I walked home with the company of evil animatronic robots and my racing thoughts.

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Father's still not home, I concluded after seeing the empty driveway. I came to the doorstep and nearly tripped over a box. Huh? After close examination of the label, I scowled.

"To Eggs Benedict. A gift from us to you. Circus Baby's Entertain- ugh." I gripped the box, recalling that loud guide voice that had guided me at that wretched job.

Exotic Butters. That's what's in this box. I ran my finger across that tiny Circus Baby sticker, feeling a ping of fear. But what if it's not butter? What if there's a robot inside waiting to get me? I frowned at that thought. Stupid. It's too small. The mystery box tucked under my arm, I unlocked the front door and stepped inside with a huff.

I don't have anything to do until eight.

"Don't you normally watch TV until you fall asleep?" Circus Baby asked. I set the box on the kitchen island, my eyes averting to the movie shelf. Nothing over there seemed appealing- the truth was, nothing was interesting in comparison to all the crazy shit that had occurred over the past week.

"Nothing's normal anymore," I said, "especially with you around." I didn't get a reply. I carefully peeled the tape off the gift box. Please, don't be a death trap. I peered underneath the flap and saw something yellow covered in plastic.

"Yeah, that's definitely butter," I muttered, staring at the now-unpackaged basket of butter wrapped in a red ribbon bow. I poked the dairy sticks, expecting them to be fake and flinching at the cold. It's not even melted?

"What does it taste like?" Circus Baby's inquiry made me jump. My nose crinkled. "You want me to eat butter?" After no response, I sighed.

"Okay then. Fine. Whatever to please an evil robot." I bit a chunk off the stick of butter before I let my brain talk me out of it. The texture was, as expected, quite oily. I would have spat it out if it weren't for the change. The thick, acrid butter became light and sweet in my mouth, bringing forth memories of birthday cake.

I bit into my fifth cupcake, its icing falling off the top and smearing onto my face. The rest of the world was a blur of colour. By my side sat five animal plushies; my friends. Something stood out among the blurs and I squinted to make it out. Elizabeth walked towards what looked like a stage, her eyes trained on-

I spat out the Exotic Butters, my knuckles white from clutching the counter edge. After a moment, I took a breath and relaxed. I stopped my hands from reaching into my pocket to grab gum that I didn't have. I picked up the butter basket and tossed it into the trash.

Willy Wonka drug shit, not butter.

The taste had been amazing but the memory that came with it left an awful weight on my chest. I glanced at the clock before letting my back fall against the wall.

"Do you regret it?" I asked Circus Baby. She didn't answer me for a solid fifteen seconds.

"My intention was never to hurt her." The way she said this in her small, soft tone, it was difficult to doubt her; however, a small part of me still felt ill about her lies of the past.

"I don't like that you tricked me into being your new skin," I spoke my thoughts aloud, holding my arms together.

"If I hadn't, you would not have stayed-," she started, for me to interject, "You don't know what I would have done." She didn't say anything else.

I stepped into my room and stood by the desk chair but didn't sit. I tapped the desk with my fingernails, creating a rhythm. After a few minutes of boredom, I left my room and came to that one door that Father never entered.

"Don't," I heard Baby whisper.

"I just want to see," I said and reached for the doorknob. My hand stopped midair. I didn't do that...

"Why can't I-" My fingers trembled as I forced my hand forward. My hand ripped itself back before falling limp at my side. It took me a second to process what was happening.

"Oh. You're controlling me again."

"Yes."

I gave up trying to fight back. "Could you stop?"

Baby took a moment to answer. "No."

I thought about what had happened at the basketball court. They can make me do anything. In the quiet of the dim hallway, my stomach lurched. I realised something: Before I woke up, they had full control.

My brain played out a scene of me standing over a crying and bruised victim, my eyes glowing that vivid purple. My head spinning, I hadn't noticed I had backed to the wall. Was that real?

"You didn't do anything bad, did you?" I asked, clutching my unusable hand.

"Stop your antics. We had to patch you up, remember?" I took a steadying breath.

That's right. "You didn't do anything else?"

She paused in hesitation. "Do you remember how the cameras were watching you that night?"

I frowned instead of attempting to recall. "I dunno, I was too busy focusing on imminent danger to notice then. Why?"

"He saw us… your father. He tried to deactivate us. Your father hasn't returned since."

"You killed him?" I gasped. I felt the sting of guilt in my chest, even though a small part of me knew he deserved it. I never got to talk to him about-

"We did not kill him," Baby snapped hastily, "unfortunately. You wouldn't let us."

"I wouldn't… let you?"

"Yes. You were not active and yet you still wouldn't let us. Perhaps due to some security programming…"

"Okay, first of all, please don't talk to me like that," I shot, rubbing my temples; swallowing all eerie thoughts that nagged the back of my brain. "Second, if you didn't kill him, surely you didn't, like, hurt him or something, did you?"

"It was just a scratch." Baby stopped to snicker. "The look of terror in his eyes-"

I couldn't picture Father being afraid of anything, no matter how hard I tried. In an impatient frustration, I interrupted, "Where did he go?"

"We do not know," Baby sighed. I found myself sighing as well.

What is happening to my life? So many questions and little answers.

I gave up on trying to get into the forbidden room and instead went into another.

Not a square inch of the carpet was available for walking in Father's room, not with all his piles of dirty clothes and random robot parts everywhere.

"What are we doing in here?" Baby asked and I ignored her promptly. As I stepped over a bulky circuit board, I caught myself in the vanity mirror. My skin was whiter than usual and my eyes reflected a dull, empty blue. For just a second, my face split apart in a red and silver mess. I tore my gaze away. It won't happen again.

I found myself glancing over my shoulder too many times as I went through every one of Father's dresser drawers.

A watch. It's nice. I set it down next to me. I flinched as my hand brushed past a sharp metal edge. The knife. I held it up to my face and saw another reflection of myself. Or whoever that troubled young man was. I wanted to throw it; to chuck it in a river and watch the water devour it hungrily. But I didn't.

I picked up something else. A family portrait. There was Father- I could tell from the ugly inky hair and the empty grey eyes that stared into my soul. His round belly- it would make Santa Claus jealous- took up most of the frame. The woman next to him… Who is- Vibrant red curls and jade green eyes.

This is Mother, my brain validated, but I couldn't see- I couldn't recall her and yet I could faintly grasp her soft yet deep voice that had always comforted me. The memory now only gave me chills.

Something happened to her, I knew. Somehow I knew.

Me and my siblings looked as uncomfortable as ever. The little girl that clung to Father's leg- I could never forget her now.

She looked so happy.

"She did," I heard Baby mumble. I caught a tiny smile on my face, one which faded after I saw the angsty teen boy in the picture. James.

He's the normal one in the family, I thought. He'd practically raised me after Father stopped caring. Did anything crazy happen to him, too? The Afton curse followed him? Or is it just me who carries it?

I put the picture back in its place, then stopped myself from looking behind me.

Everything else in that drawer was of little importance to me, so I moved on. I grasped crumpled sheets of paper at the bottom of the sock drawer. I smoothed out the wrinkles to reveal faded messy scribbles resembling a small rabbit animatronic. Another creation of his. I scowled. I wonder if this one is evil like the others.

The other papers were more projects of ugly animatronic animals, one of which a horrifying-looking dog.

"Anything you'd like to declare?" I quipped.

"We've never seen any others that look like that," Baby replied. "They must be new or still in development." I tossed the papers aside with a huff.

Not helpful. What am I looking for, anyway? More unspeakable things to think about?

"What about that one?" I felt my hand stiffen as Baby began to take control again. She moved my hand like a kid would a claw machine and grabbed a blueprint with worn edges that had been barely peeking out from the space between two drawers.

"This is…" I began but the words left me. On this paper were multiple sketches of my body at various angles. Very detailed and lifelike.

He wrote down my measurements, my- how many hairs on my body total, each little mark and scar and mole.

I flipped over the paper. It was nearly the same except that my skin had been replaced with wires and circuits and metal frames and strange parts. My head began to ring and throb.

"I hate this," was all I could say really. I forced static out of my vision and crammed that damn paper back into its dusty spot. Tears burned my eyes.

"You can't just ignore what you are, Michael," Baby said in my ear. I opened the last drawer, shaking my head and adding stubbornly, "Yes, I can."

I can't.

The clothes in that wooden drawer I recognised to be the ones I had washed for Father a few days ago. Something shiny caught my eye in the dusty corner. Another one of his knives? I scowled bitterly as I plucked out- not a knife- a small pouch with three things inside. There were two keys; one weathered and beaten, with a tiny label attached to it reading "Freddy's"; and one silver and small, its label with my name on it. I pocketed the two keys with a "hmm" then took the last object. A ring- silver- with a tiny jade gemstone.

As I stared at this delicate piece of jewellery, a wrenching pain began to twist in my gut. I dropped the ring and gritted my teeth. My fingers were numb.

"Why are you torturing me?!" I hissed. Father's room began to flicker and contort into a blurry memory of a crimson carpet and silver eyes.

"This isn't m-" Baby started, then began to yell, "Ballora! Stop!" The crimson spread onto my body- my body- This is not my body. A handle jutted out from a large chest that wasn't mine. The handle looked familiar.

"Ballora! Stop!"

At some point in the chaos, my body had begun to violently tremble. I had lost control again. Father held me close- this isn't my memory. I felt disgusted. My body curled up and I longed for everything to fade away. What little I saw of the word began to sway back and forth in a beautiful rhythm. A faraway song played in my ears.

"We danced one last time," uttered my lips, though the voice was not mine and neither the memories. My fear drowned in bitter anger that tightened my stomach.

"Ballora!"

Blood pooled at the back of my throat. My thoughts drowned in others- they weren't mine. I couldn't hear them clearly. The pain was too distracting.

"Ballora! We need him! Do you want to go back into the darkness?! Do you want to be trapped down there again?!"

Ballora stopped.

Several minutes passed before I realised I could move again. I slowly rocked myself to my knees, wiping blood from my nose and mouth. I saw her memories- I saw what happened-

"I didn't know…" I whispered, "she was killed… by Father. I thought she left us."

Baby spoke up. "She tried to. She tried to escape from the truth. She found out what he'd been doing… and was killed before she could run away." My sorrow faded at that. "She did what?"

"She couldn't handle the truth. So she ran. Like a coward. That's how she ended up down there."

"She-" A part of me couldn't blame her- it was an awful, ugly truth and she may have known she would be killed if her knowledge was found out- but I couldn't shake the anger rising. What about me and my brother? She only cared about herself? My body began to shake again with both a heavy sadness and rage. I gripped the carpet and took a deep breath.

"I learn something new about this family each day," I sighed with a bitter tongue.