October 15, 2017
20 hours 20 minutes
The asphalt and sidewalk were completely wet from the recent rain, which turned into a downpour in a couple of minutes, enveloping the whole city. There was no one on the street, not even an animal or an insect. There was only one being. It was a human. Michael. Michael Afton. He visited his brother in the hospital today, but, after his arrival, he left almost immediately. More precisely, he was kicked out of Chris' room and told to go home. There, in the ward, something terrible happened, something that Michael did not want to believe with all his heart, but it happened.
Chris died.
Walking along the sidewalk, he recalled moments and things that happened in the hospital. The younger brother, his bandaged forehead and crown, connected devices, Chris' face, who had one left eye bandaged, the uniform, nasty squeak of a cardiogram, sobs, tears, screams, people in masks and medical gowns who entered the ward, oblique, contemptuous glances in Michael's direction. After the incident, he immediately decided that it was better to return home now.
- Now I'm going to come and see Naomi crying, sitting on our sofa in the living room, and dad... - here Michael thought, because he doesn't know what his father will do. Maybe he will cry silently, standing by the phone, on which he was informed of Chris' death, maybe he will break the phone and the objects next to him, or maybe he will just get stupidly drunk. And, perhaps, the doctors managed to save Chris' small, fragile life, but not only him. Michael, too, and with him Naomi and William.
The street did not end, the downpour and disturbing thoughts too. It was sickeningly quiet, not even cars were passing. Michael came to his house. There was a pretty clear reason why they stopped having visitors. The house feels heavy, filling the chest with all the sadness, the atmosphere. It is so strong that it seems to Michael that this atmosphere draws him in in order to hide him from the whole world and its problems. But there's nowhere to hide, he can't hide. That would be very mean of him. The hand tremblingly rises to the handle, but abruptly drops and pulls back. Michael can't. Fear is stronger than other feelings. It seems like he's always so brave, so determined, but what now? Were you ashamed of your actions? At least you haven't completely buried conscience in yourself.
Michael closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, trying to calm the unrest in his mind. He opens his eyes, takes a decisive step and quickly, almost silently, opens the front door. The house is too quiet for a noisy family like his. Although there is a sound: someone's voice was muttering something. Michael walked down the corridor to the source of the noise, but literally immediately he realized that it was the voice of the announcer from the "News". He walked around the corner and stood at the archway leading into the living room. He watched from the aisle as the surviving family members sat and watched the news. To be honest, they didn't look like a normal family, much less a happy one. William stared thoughtlessly at the TV screen, as if lost in his thoughts, which was probably true. Naomi didn't even pretend to watch TV, hugging her father, wrapping herself as deep as possible in a blanket and closing her eyes, being half in a dream.
- H-Hi, everyone... - Michael choked out.
Everyone immediately turned their heads towards the unexpected sound.
- Oh, hi, you're finally back. - Naomi replied without emotion.
Michael's gaze fell on his father. He had never seen such an expression before. There was so much contempt in him, so much rage that had not yet died down, which could flare up at any wrong word.
- I'll make us some tea. - William, who had already risen from the sofa, said with perfect indifference.
- Let's have tea here? - Naomi said. - Let's sit down and watch some movie together.
- Whatever you say. - the father answers and goes towards the kitchen.
Interference blurred on the TV, which had already captured the entire screen. Naomi snorted with displeasure and turned off the TV, wrapping her pink blanket deeper. She still didn't want to talk to her brother. Michael sat down on the sofa next to his sister and was lost in his thoughts. His father treats him so coldly, as if he were a flea-ridden mongrel that was sheltered. It's like something normal. Naomi decided to turn on the TV again. A silly children's animated series about a family of vampires and humans, which was shown on this channel every week, appeared on the screen. The interference disappeared.
About ten minutes passed, and William came into the living room with two trays. He put everything down and laid it on the coffee table. Naomi clapped her hands happily, while Michael just moved closer to the table. He could see that his father was still looking at him. Michael felt even more uncomfortable.
William sat down away from Michael, in the bard's chair to the left of the sofa. Michael sat on the opposite end of the sofa, occasionally glancing at his father, but he just watched the steam billowing over his mug of tea. Naomi was calmly drinking her tea. The TV was really messed up, so Naomi turned it off. It was heard how the rain was pounding on the glass through the window, drops of which quickly ran over the transparent surface. Michael leaned back a little in order to enjoy the black tea more.
William put his mug of untouched tea on the oval coffee table and bowed his head, crossing his fingers at his face, holding his forehead with one index finger. Michael foreshadowed a serious conversation. Very serious, which, for sure, will grow into a scandal.
- Michael, why did you harass your brother? - the young man's father began from afar.
Michael said nothing. His tongue felt swollen, and he couldn't say a word.
- I asked you a question. - William said more irritably.
- Well... It was a joke... We...
- What do you mean, a joke? - his father shuddered almost hysterically. - People laugh at jokes, but he cried, and cried, and cried! He tried to dissuade you, he shouted at you, asked you to stop, and you did your job anyway. Are you happy now?
In response, silence again.
- Happy?!
- No...
- Then why did you do it? The meaning of your action?
- I wasn't alone. They are also wound up ...
- Silence!
- But you want me to answer, don't you? What's the point of shutting me up?
- Forget about them. You... You knew how afraid he was of them, animatronics.
- You also knew and arranged his birthday in a pizzeria! - Michael and his father were looking for enemies in each other.
- So I'm to blame for what happened?! - William is completely mad. He got up from his chair and was already begging for answers from Mike, and Mike was silent again. - Am I to blame?!
- Yes... No...
- Tell me normally!
- Dad, don't scream, please... - Naomi said quietly, trying to calm her father somehow.
- Naomi, don't bother. - father hissed through his teeth. - We have a serious conversation with him.
The little girl just lowered her eyes.
- But... - the girl was not allowed to finish.
- Naomi, please don't... - Michael mumbled a little.
- And no one gave you the right to talk! - William shouted at his son again.
- You yourself demand that I answer your questions! How can I answer differently?
It seemed to Michael that it lasted forever. They got up from their seats and started shouting at each other. The father shouts at the son, and the son at the father. All in raised tones. Everyone stands up, shouts at each other, as if they are not a family at all, but some sworn enemies. William's phone suddenly rang at the entrance from the living room to the corridor, but they did not interrupt. Naomi heard the ringing through their swearing and said that someone was calling on the phone.
- Naomi, answer the phone! - dad got a little distracted from the topic of shouting. - Can't you see we're busy?
She just nodded quickly, almost imperceptibly, and ran to the phone, and the two continued to yell at each other.
- Why are you blaming me for everything?! This is your pizzeria, your animatronics! They bit through his skull! Not me!
- They were created for fun, so that children would have more fun in our city!
- Do you think it's fun?! It's fucking fun not to get up!
- Stop yelling at me!
- Dad... - no one heard Naomi's voice, so everyone continued to shout at each other.
- It's your fault Chris is in a coma right now!
- We didn't know this was going to happen!
- You are sixteen years old! You understand everything perfectly!
- We really didn't know this was going to happen! Why don't you believe me?!
- You know why!
- What should I know?
- Stop acting like an idiot!
- Da-ad... - Naomi's voice got a little louder, but they still didn't pay attention to her.
- I'm not acting like an idiot! I just can't figure out what you want from me!
- I want you to repent before God of your sins!
- What?! I won't do anything! I don't have to be ashamed because you decided that I'm a sinner!
- You must!
- And that's the answer to what I need to know? Don't you believe me because I'm a sinner?!
- No! You know yourself that he's there because of you, and you're such a coward and a weakling that you're afraid to admit it!
- I don't admit what I didn't do! The fault is not...
- DA-A-AD! - Naomi's hysterical voice shouted over everyone else. Everyone turned in her direction.
- What?! - father barked, but immediately fell silent.
Naomi was in tears. From each sob, the tears dripped faster on the carpet. Her skin turned completely red, such a rich color that it seemed unnatural. She was holding her home phone in her little hand, trembling violently. Her father ran up to her, took the phone from her hand and started listening to what Naomi said. She couldn't stand it, rushed to Michael, hugged him and started crying. Michael had a terrible premonition. The father put down the phone and leaned with both hands on the bedside table, on which the phone was. He stood there for half a minute. Naomi, too, was silent and crying, hiding her face deeper in a gray T-shirt. But soon William turned around. His face was also in tears. Michael was terrified. The worst guess was confirmed.
- Chris... Chris died... - William said.
Then Naomi broke down and sobbed even more, burying her face in Michael's T-shirt. Michael had tears in his eyes too, but he had already cried enough in the hospital.
- It's all your fault! - William loudly, almost with a crash, hit the bedside table and headed for Michael. Michael jumped a little from fright and started to move back, but there was nowhere to go. The teenager pushed Naomi away, and she stood aside with fright to look at her brother and father. Michael had never seen anyone with so much anger in eyes. His father grabbed him by the neck of his T-shirt and squeezed it so that the knuckles of his hands turned very white. Mike was clearly mistaken in his father's reaction to Chris' death. - Only yours and yours!
- It's not my fault, dad!
- Don't you dare call me that! It's a shame for me that you're my son. I wish you hadn't been born! - Michael didn't know whether his father said these words in a hurry or far-fetched, but at that moment his heart squeezed, so squeezed that he felt as if it was bleeding. He started to cry, but he wasn't going to be silent.
- You know, I sympathize with Chris that he had a father like you! But now I hope he's better off with Elizabeth and mom! - Michael said in all seriousness that he was already scared of his own words. The blood was boiling in his father's eyes, and he squeezed the T-shirt even harder.
- Don't you dare say their names!
- And here I dare! Elizabeth and Chris died at the hands of your creations! It's your fault! Chris and Elizabeth died because of you! You! You!
- Shut up!
William could not restrain himself and threw his son forward with all his strength right into the wall. Michael hit his head hard against the wall and fell down, not feeling his body.
- Michael! - Naomi rushed to help her brother.
Michael didn't get up for a long time, hissing about the pain. The little girl tried to lift him, but he was too heavy for her, so she just tried to help him. But he just pushed his sister away and got up on his own. Here his father seemed to sober up, came out of a trance or manipulation, and his face became scared. Could he have done such a thing? Michael limped out of the living room and into the hallway. William rushed to him.
- Michael, please, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! Forgive me! - the father tried to stop his son, but he stopped and turned around. He looked with the same expression on his face as his father when Michael first came home. Full of contempt and disappointment. Michael didn't scream, didn't hit him, didn't do anything Naomi expected.
- Consider me no longer your son... - Michael said quite calmly.
With that, he went upstairs and started packing. Deciding to take a look at what happened, he confirmed to himself that when he hit the wall, his forehead was cut. Blood flowed down from the wound, staining his left cheek and T-shirt. He took the most important things: money from his piggy bank, a card, a bandage, a knife, some iodine and all the other stuff. After collecting all his things, Michael was about to leave, but Naomi was standing in the aisle. There were traces of tears on her face.
- Are you leaving? - Naomi asked.
- Yeah.
- Now?
- Yeah.
- Forever? - Michael didn't answer, deciding that he needed to answer neutrally.
- Maybe.
- And where will you go?
- I don't know yet, but somewhere out of this city.
- You don't like here?
- Yeah.
A small pause. Apparently, the girl didn't know what else to ask. Michael turned his head towards the window, from which it showed that the rain had not stopped at all. It's bad.
- Mickey, I'm sorry I didn't talk to you... - Naomi said.
- You have nothing to apologize for... I've forgiven you for a long time.
Naomi threw herself into his arms. Michael sat down and hugged her back, clasping her hands tightly.
- Promise me you're not leaving forever.
- I promise...
- I hope you won't get us out of your head?
- Don't worry about it. - Michael showed her one of the photos where they had a picnic in the park a year ago. One of the good memories when they all thought about nothing but their happiness together. - I will keep it as a talisman.
- Will you be back soon? - Naomi asked.
- Soon... - he kissed the girl on the forehead and stood up. - Very soon...
William has already left somewhere by car. Michael didn't understand this behavior, but he decided not to dwell on it. He quickly but carefully opened the front door and left the house.
As he walked along the sidewalk, he wondered where he could hide from his father. Well, he can't go to friends and classmates in any way: dad will find him right away. He promised that he would be back soon and did not lie to his sister. Accidentally noticing that his tears were flowing, he quickly wiped them with a damp sleeve of his jacket and walked down the street.
October 18, 2017
Three days later, the funeral took place. Not only Chris, but also Charlotte. She was also killed that night. The killer continues to be searched. The day turned out to be surprisingly sunny. People, sometimes wiping tears from their eyes with a handkerchief or a handkerchief, stood in black suits and listened to everything the priest said. Michael stood in the distance, under the shadow of a tree and watched everything that was happening. Everyone looks with grim grimaces at Chris and Charlie's small coffin, which has already begun to be covered with earth. Of course, they were buried in different pits. William and Henry were crying silently, Scott and Rita were supporting them. And also there were Gabriel, Cassidy, Helen, Thomas, Spencer, Sarah and Agnes with Olivia. Sarah was crying, covering her face with her hands, and Spencer put his hand on her shoulder, hugging her. The priest was still saying something, but Michael was too far away from them, and it all seemed to him like some kind of dumb scene. At one point, Naomi, who was standing away from the others, looked in Michael's direction and saw him. He put his index finger to his lips. Naomi nodded. Then she turned to the others, and Michael hid behind the shade of the trees and left the cemetery. What happened to Charlotte?