CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: TRAUMA

I pulled into the driveway of the house, turning off the engine. I sighed as the work of the day slowly caught up to me. I looked to see my father's cruiser sitting there like a statue. I looked down, a low sigh escaping my lips.

For the past 3 days, my father has been working his ass off on something that he was hellbent on having completed. I've tried a few times to get answers, but they have proven fruitless. My father would look me in the eyes and tell me to focus on myself and that everything would be okay.

I have tried to remain hopeful that everything will be okay, but the curiosity has been growing to unbearable heights. The desire to know what was going on kept getting worse. Multiple times, I asked him what he was doing, but he refused to tell me anything that would quench my curiosity. I really wanted to know what the balls he was doing, but nothing I did was able to get the answers out of him. Then, it happened.

Yesterday, I asked him what it was that he was doing. He refused to tell me. I had enough. I called him out that I had been trying to focus on myself, but I had been wanting to know what it was that he was doing. I told him I wasn't going anywhere until he told me. He lost it. He glared at me, his annoyance very clear on his reddened face.

"Enough, Mihael!" he shouted. "I'm not going to tell you what I am doing! This is something that I don't want you to worry about! Now, stop being a pest, focus on yourself, and go to your room! I have work to do!"

I didn't know what to say to that, so I did what I was told, my frustrations reaching heights I never thought would be possible. Dinner that night was awkward. None of us said anything to each other. We all ate in silence, which honestly, was a blessing in disguise. I didn't know what to say, so talking at the table would have been pointless.

At the same time, my mother was doing her best to handle Lisa's disappearance. Sometimes, I would hear her crying or talking to my father about her in their bedroom. I would feel my heart threaten to shatter at the sound of my mother crying. That was something I couldn't stand whatsoever.

However, the good thing was that my mother did her best to assure me that everything was going to be okay and that my father would take care of everything. Yesterday, after having enough of my dad not telling me anything or refusing to answer any of the questions I had, I asked her what my father was doing, but just like him, she didn't tell me anything. It annoyed me a lot, but she did say that when the time came, she would tell me everything. It wasn't what I hoped, but it was something at the very least. If my father wasn't going to tell me, then my mother would when the time came.

I sighed once again as the memories faded. Ever since my sister disappeared and my father has been doing God knows what, all of us have been stressed out. Whatever it was that my father was doing, it was big. Big enough to where my father had enough of me asking and lashed out at me in anger. At this point, after all that's happened these last few days, I wasn't going to bother asking. After what happened yesterday, it would be better to not know anything in the long run.

I stepped out of the truck, slamming the door shut behind me. I walked over to the front door, reaching under the rug where we hid a key. Since the neighborhood was safe, my mother didn't see any reason to think that anyone would break into our house. I knew my mother was right, but you could never be too careful when it comes to situations like that.

I put the key in the lock. The sound of the lock undoing when I turned it filled my ears. I pushed the door open. I pulled the key out and put it back under the rug. I shut the door behind me and looked around. The TV was on with a sports car race playing on the screen. My father was sitting on the couch, his attention to the TV entirely.

I was surprised to see that. My father had been hellbent on doing whatever it was that he was doing that I had never seen him on the TV for the past few days. The feeling of relief that should've washed over me didn't come through. Instead, I was filled with worry and… dread. Something didn't seem right.

I focused more attentively on my father… and felt the color drain from my face. There was a bottle held tightly in his hand. That was not what scared me. What did was that the bottle contained a brown liquid in it. The label on it read 'JACK DANIEL'S'.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing. My father… drinking?! There was one thing that I knew about my father. He wasn't a drinker in any way, shape or form. Due to being the police chief, he had to be sober in case something happened. He even refuses to go to bars due to that. To see him doing that was something I never thought in a million years I would see with my own two eyes. It didn't help that he looked out of it, like he was in some sort of daydream or something.

I walked over to him and tapped him on the shoulder. He showed no signs of acknowledgment.

"Dad?" I said in a worried tone. He groaned before he turned to look at me. He blinked a few times before he focused on me.

"Mihael, my boy, what are you doing here?" he asked, his voice very slurred and his breath reeking of whiskey. The smell itself alone was almost enough to make me puke. I didn't have to be a genius to know that my father was drunk. Very drunk. "Shouldn't you be at school?"

"Dad, school ended a few minutes ago," I said slowly. "It's 3 PM."

He seemed to go into deep thought before he chuckled to himself. I didn't like the sound of it.

"Ah, yes, I see now," he said very stupidly. "Silly me. I must've forgotten. Hehehehe."

I cringed at this. This was so out of character for him. It was like I wasn't talking to my father at all. It all felt like I was talking to a complete stranger who broke into the house. Something terrible happened that caused my father to be behaving like this. Whatever it was, it was something bad. Very bad.

I looked at the whiskey bottle that was held tightly in his hand. I didn't know how much he drank, but I knew that he had enough.

"Dad, I think you've had enough to drink," I said as I reached for the bottle. "I'm going to take that and get rid of it. Don't need you like this in case there is an emergency."

As if a switch had been flipped, my father leaped from the couch and pressed his face against mine. I looked into his eyes, widened like dinner plates.

"Don't touch my shit, boy," he growled. "Get your ass to your room and do your homework. Don't come down until dinner, understand?"

I didn't say anything. What was I supposed to say? This man was not the same man that raised me all my life. This was a shell of his former self. Seeing this in front of me struck me hard. I could only wish that this was some terrible nightmare I was having. But, I knew deep down, life wasn't fair… and luck wasn't on my side.

My father relaxed and sat back down on the couch. I stayed where I was for a moment before slowly walking up the stairs, the reality of the situation striking me hard as I did.

*MAY 8 2028*

I pulled into the driveway of the house, turning off the engine as I did. I wasn't too surprised to see my father's cruiser sitting in the driveway. It has become the norm for me. He hasn't gone to work for days so it would take a miracle to see the cruiser no longer sitting there collecting dust for not having been touched for a good while.

I hesitated for a brief moment before I stepped out of the truck. I walked over to the front door and stopped. I closed my eyes as everything that had been happening played out in my mind.

Four days have passed since I found my father drunk on the couch and his aggression when I tried to take the bottle from him when I felt like he had too much to drink. Things have been going downhill ever since… and it has shown no signs of getting any better. In all my life, I never thought I would find myself in a situation like this.

That wasn't the worst part. Over the past few days, my father has been showing signs of hopelessness when he would receive calls that any signs of Lisa have not been found by his fellow officers. I was grateful that my mother filled me in on this. At least she wasn't leaving me in the dark.

If the dwindling hope of finding Lisa wasn't bad enough, what has been happening to my father has to be the absolute worst that I had ever seen. As the days passed, my father's health became worse. He hasn't been showing up to work, which has been worrying his fellow officers. I really wanted to help, but when I did, he would react violently and tell me to beat it. I had never been scared in my life. I wanted to help him, but what the hell was I supposed to do to help when he wouldn't let me?

My mother did her best to help him, but it all proved fruitless. I felt her pain. The inability to help the man that you loved for so long turn into a shell of his former self isn't something that any person should ever go through. The good thing was that he didn't act very aggressively towards her when she tried to help. It was only me that he took it out on. I couldn't blame him. If I had paid more attention when Lisa was using the bathroom, she would still be here with us right now.

As I stood there, something inside me turned into a tight knot. So tight that I felt the urge to puke. Something deep within me told me that something was wrong. Very wrong. This isn't the first time I felt this way either.

This feeling popped up on the way here. The best way I can describe it was that it felt more like a warning. Like something very bad was waiting for me at home. I tried to shake it off, but it remained the entire way.

'Get a hold of youself,' I thought to myself. I took a deep breath and grabbed the knob. I twisted it to see if the door was locked. I was surprised to see that it wasn't. I pushed the door open and stepped inside, closing the door behind me.

I placed my backpack on the floor and turned my attention to the living room. I saw no sign of anyone. I turned my attention to the floor. My eyes widened, the urge to scream building up in my throat like a balloon being inflated.

My father was lying on the floor in the center of the room, his eyes wide and lifeless. There was a large gaping wound in his neck. A knife was clutched tightly in his hand. A large pool of blood was surrounding his head.

"Father?" I said weakly. No response. Tears welled up in my eyes as the gravity of the situation hit me. I slowly walked over to him like a zombie. "Father… No, father… Please no…"

I stood over him as the tears began trailing down my face. I did not want to believe what the hell I was seeing, but reality wasn't so kind to me today. My father was dead. First Lisa, now him.

I fell to my knees as I continued to stare at my father's lifeless body. My vision became blurry from the tears building up, as well as trailing down my face. The two most important people to me… was taken away.

"Father… Father!" I shouted, balling my hands into fists before slamming them onto his body. The scream built up in my throat before my head flew up. "FATHEEERRRRRRR!"

Everything went blank…

PATIENT 245: MIHAEL PATEL

DATE: MAY 9 2028

PATIENT HAS SHOWN NO SIGNS OF RECOVERY. THE DEATH OF HIS FATHER, COMBINED WITH THE DISAPPEARANCE OF HIS SISTER, APPEARS TO HAVE CAUSED TREMENDOUS MENTAL DAMAGE TO HIS PSYCHE. THE PATIENT APPEARS TO BE SUFFERING A MENTAL SHUTDOWN, THE BRAIN'S DEFENSE MECHANISM TO PRESERVE WHAT LITTLE PSYCHE IS LEFT. I WILL DO WHAT I CAN TO HELP HIM, THOUGH I AM NOT SURE HOW MUCH HELP HE WILL NEED TO HELP HIM RECOVER FROM THE TRAUMATIC EVENT.

PATIENT 245: MIHAEL PATEL

DATE: MAY 10 2028

PATIENT STILL SHOWS NO SIGNS OF RECOVERING FROM THE DAMAGE DONE TO HIS PSYCHE. HOWEVER, SOMETHING REMARKABLE HAPPENED. IT WAS SMALL, BUT IT WAS SOMETHING ENOUGH FOR ME TO PUT INTO THIS REPORT. THE PATIENT HAS BEEN ABLE TO SPEAK. ONLY MUTTERING TWO WORDS. THEY WERE 'LISA' AND 'FATHER'. IT APPEARS THAT THE LOSS OF TWO PEOPLE IN HIS LIFE HAS BEEN INDEED THE CAUSE OF HIS MENTAL SHUTDOWN. I WILL CONTINUE TO DOCUMENT ANY PROGRESS. HOPE HAS NOT BEEN LOST.

PATIENT 245: MIHAEL PATEL

DATE: MAY 11 2028

PATIENT HAS BEEN BARELY RESPONDING TO QUESTIONS THAT I HAVE ASKED HIM TODAY. HE APPEARS TO BE OUT OF IT, THOUGH IS SHOWING SOME SIGN OF AWARENESS IF BARELY ANY. HIS FATHER HAS BEEN BURIED TODAY AT 2:46 PM. HIS MOTHER THOUGHT IT WOULD BE BEST TO LEAVE HIM AT THE HOUSE WITH ME TO CONTINUE WITH HIS RECOVERY. SHE THOUGHT IT WOULD BE BEST AS TO NOT CAUSE ANY MORE TRAUMA OR DAMAGE TO HIS ALREADY BROKEN SPIRIT. I DOUBT THAT RECOVERY WILL BE COMING ANY TIME SOON. I JUST HAVE TO KEEP GOING AND HOPE FOR A BETTER TOMORROW.

PATIENT 245: MIHAEL PATEL

DATE: MAY 12 2028

I AM BEGINNING TO DOUBT THAT MIHAEL'S RECOVERY WOULD BE POSSIBLE. THE PATIENT HAS SHOWN NO SIGNS OF IMPROVEMENT AND CONTINUES TO ONLY RESPOND TO SMALL SIMPLE QUESTIONS, BARELY SHOWING ANY SIGNS OF ACKNOWLEDGEMENT. HIS MOTHER IS BEGINNING TO WORRY FOR HER SON. I CAN'T BLAME HER. HE HAS BARELY EATEN AND HAS LOST 10 POUNDS OVER THE LAST FEW DAYS. I WILL CONTINUE TO TRY TO HELP HIM RECOVER. HIS MOTHER IS WAITING.

PATIENT 245: MIHAEL PATEL

DATE: MAY 13 2028

MIHAEL HAS SHOWN SIGNS OF COMING TO. HE IS NOW RESPONDING TO NORMAL QUESTIONS AND IS SHOWING SIGNS OF AWARENESS. HOWEVER, THERE IS ONE SETBACK I DISCOVERED. WHEN I ATTEMPTED TO ASK HIM ABOUT THE MEGA PIZZAPLEX WHERE HIS SISTER HAD GONE MISSING, HE REACTED VIOLENTLY. THE AMOUNT OF RAGE AND HATRED HE HAS DISPLAYED HAS SCARED ME TO A GREAT EXTENT. FROM BEING CALM TO ANGRY WAS LIKE POKING A BEAR WITH A STICK. FROM THE LOOKS OF IT, HE BLAMES THE PIZZAPLEX FOR THE LOSS OF HIS FATHER AND SISTER. FROM THIS REACTION, I CAN SAFELY SAY ATTEMPTS TO HELP HIM RECOVER WILL CONTINUE. SOMETHING TELLS ME THAT HE HARBORS AN INTENSE HATRED FOR THE ESTABLISHMENT.

PATIENT 245: MIHAEL PATEL

DATE: MAY 14 2028

MY SUSPICIONS FOR THE PATIENT'S HATRED FOR THE PIZZAPLEX PROVED TO BE TRUE. ONCE AGAIN, I ASKED THE PATIENT ABOUT HIS THOUGHTS ON THE PIZZAPLEX AND HE REACTED JUST AS I THOUGHT. HE BEGAN TO RANT ABOUT HOW MUCH HE HATED IT AND HOPED IT WOULD BURN DOWN TO THE GROUND. HE ALSO BLAMED IT FOR THE DESTRUCTION OF ALL OF THE FAMILIES THAT HAD LOST THEIR KIDS, AS WELL FOR THE LOSS OF HIS FATHER AND SISTER. I AM BEGINNING TO FEAR FOR MYSELF. I BELIEVE THAT TOMORROW WILL BE THE LAST, UNDER THE REQUEST OF HIS MOTHER. I WISH I COULD DO MORE, BUT IT APPEARS THAT WILL NOT BE THE CASE.

PATIENT 245: MIHAEL PATEL

DATE: MAY 15 2028

THIS WILL BE THE FINAL MEETING WITH PATIENT MIHAEL PATEL. RECOVERY HAS BEEN DEEMED IMPOSSIBLE AND ANY ATTEMPT TO HELP HIM RECOVER HAS PROVEN FRUITLESS. HIS MOTHER IS DEVASTATED THAT NOTHING COULD BE DONE TO HELP HIM RECOVER. THE TRAUMA HAS PROVEN TO BE FAR MORE SEVERE THAN I THOUGHT. I AM DISAPPOINTED THAT NOTHING COULD BE DONE FOR HIM. ALL I CAN DO IS PRAY AND HOPE THAT HE WILL BE ABLE TO LIVE A NORMAL LIFE. THE ONLY BRIGHT SIDE IS THAT HE IS VERY CAPABLE OF DOING DAILY TASKS LIKE EVERYONE ELSE. MY NAME IS ELIZABETH CAMPERS. THIS IS THE FINAL ENTRY FOR PATIENT 245.

*7 DAYS LATER*

I woke up to the feeling of someone shaking me. I groaned as I opened my eyes to see my mother standing over me, a soft look on her face. I wanted to smile, but I couldn't bring myself to do so. I felt pathetic for being so weak, but after all that's happened, I couldn't find the strength to smile anymore.

It has been a few days since my father died. The house has felt so dead and empty since two of the most important people to me were no longer with us. To think that my father would commit suicide was something I never thought would ever happen. But after finding his lifeless body, I should've known that reality was often extremely disappointing.

I mentally sighed at the thought. My mother has been handling all of it well so far. I, on the other hand, wasn't. It was one thing to lose a sibling, but it was another story when you find your own father dead in the living room. The wounds would never recover from that.

"Hey, mother," I said softly.

"Good morning, Mihael," my mother said softly. "It's time to get ready for school. I don't want you to be late."

I nodded. I didn't have to say anything to let her know that I was going to get ready. She walked away and left the room, closing the door behind her. I stayed where I was for a moment before I got up from my bed and walked over to the dresser. I opened it and took out a T-shirt and a pair of shorts, along with a pair of socks. I put them on before closing the drawer. I walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind me.

*A FEW HOURS LATER*

I focused my full attention on the road as I began the drive back to the house. A few cars drove past mine, but I paid them no mind. The light ahead turned red, forcing all of us to stop. I stopped my truck and waited for the light to turn green.

As I waited, I thought about what happened at school today. To say it was bad would be an understatement. Hell, even terrible wouldn't do it any justice whatsoever. To put it simply, it was horrendous.

All day, all of the students and teachers, who I had never gotten along with at all, gave me their condolences after what happened to my father. While I did appreciate their sympathies, it didn't help with the pain I had in my heart. The memories played violently in my head as they mentioned my father. I knew they meant well, but I finally had to put my foot down and tell them to stop. The last thing I needed was to break down in class. That would've been very embarrassing.

I sighed as I did my best to push the memories away. I found it a bit ironic that the people who treated me like shit would give me their sympathies once they found out that my father was the police chief and I was his son. Only then did they stop trying to give me hell every step of the way? All of them. A bunch of wolves in sheep's clothing.

The light turned green. I stepped on the gas and the truck began to move. I made sure my focus was aimed at the road. I had no plans of getting into a deadly car crash in the middle of the day. That was the last thing my mother needed. To get bad news that her only family had just gotten into an accident.

As I drove, I aimed my attention to the left for a brief moment. I held the steering wheel tightly as I pulled into the grass, my eyes glaring at the building that was filled to the brim with cars. The very place that brought all of this agonizing pain to me and many others. Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex.

Even after all this time and the terrible pain it's caused, it was still busy. I hadn't returned to the place since Lisa disappeared, along with the death of my father. It was all that place's fault. How a place has managed to stay open for this long will forever be a mystery to me.

"Damn you… DAMN YOU ALL TO HELL!" I screamed as I slammed my hands hard on the steering wheel, the hatred building up to levels I never thought were possible. Tears welled in my eyes before they began trailing down my face. "Damn all of you bastards to fucking hell…"

Why did this have to happen? How could anyone act like nothing was wrong and keep returning to the place where so many kids had gone missing? Humans were strange creatures, doing everything in their power to remain in ignorant bliss for as long as possible so they didn't have to face the truth. One day, people will learn that such a thing was never a good thing.

I got a hold of myself before wiping my tears away. I looked at the Pizzaplex for a moment before I began driving away, deciding to never go back to that place or go in there ever again.