10. Thousand. Words.
Hope that makes up for the fact that I haven't uploaded in a year (see what I did there)
Reviews!
MoonTheMagical: Oh, I got one of those too! Very cool.
Qxr: I read them, they were very good! You're a really talented author :)
SomeRandomRobo : that's so cute! I love it when the goats scream, it's hilarious.
Warning: Michael being a jerk and brief heterosexuality. Stay safe, you guys. (jkjk don't sue me)
Enjoy!
Chapter 68
School Daze
"And that is how babies are born!"
Ms Louise clapped slowly as the small ginger-haired boy took a bow, trying to be supportive. The other kindergarten kids looked slightly traumatised.
"Thank you, Kinen, for that... interesting presentation on something new you learned. Next up, we have Natalie and her project on horses!"
A girl with her brown hair in tight braids and pink glasses stepped up to the front, her grin wide, showing off her two missing front teeth. Elizabeth scowled. Lucky Natalie. She got so much attention, all for some stupid teeth. If other people would give her money for it, Liz would gladly rip out a couple of her bones.
"I love hortheth!" Natalie exclaimed, and went on to describe how amazing her collection of tiny horse dolls were so cool, and how her grandmother bought her twelve a week, and how she had the ultra-rare Rainbow Glitter horse, and- oh God, Liz couldn't take it any more.
"THIS IS A SHAM! I'M MAKING A RUN FOR IT!" Elizabeth screamed, throwing up her fists and making a mad dash for the big blue door. Unfortunately, one of the dumb EA's snatched her before she could get any closer. Liz hated being picked up. Elizabeth screamed even louder and bit the EA's wrinkly hand, kicking and flailing around in the air. Eughhh. The EA tasted like old people, all lavender and peppermint gum and fall incense.
"Elizabeth Afton! You don't bite people! Why can't you be more like Natalie? See how calm and polite she is?"
"Yeah Elithabeth. Thee how calm I am?" Natalie mocked. Her glittery horses seemed to stare right into Elizabeth's soul. This infuriated Liz. Why was Natalie making fun of her? She was stupid and poor and her voice was weird. And Elizabeth was smart and rich and cute as a button, at least that was what her neighbors said.
Natalie giggled obnoxiously behind her small hand, her dark eyes sparkling with humor. She smirked at Elizabeth, and that was the final straw.
"Shut up! I hate your voice, it's so annoying! And so are you!" Elizabeth shouted, wriggling free of the old EA's grasp and glaring at Natalie.
Natalie gasped, tears welling up in her eyes. Ms Louise glared back at Elizabeth. For once, there was no sunshine or rainbows in her gaze. Elizabeth gulped. This was bad. Ms Louise meant business. Ms Louise's eyes flashed and Elizabeth prepared herself for the harshest punishment of all.
"I think you need to have a talk with Mrs North, Elizabeth."
Elizabeth gasped. Oh no. No no no no. That was the worst punishment of all...or so she'd heard from Michael. She needed to come up with a way to distract her teacher, and fast! What would distract her teacher?
"My mummy's friend had a baby yesterday," she blurted out.
Ms Louise crossed her arms. "Well, that's nice. And is it a boy, or a girl?"
"Boy. His name is Auggie."
"Oh, how wonderful!" Ms Louise beamed, clapping her hands together. Why babies made people happy, Elizabeth would never know. She'd seen pictures of Auggie, and he was all wrinkly and purple and yuck, like the dried apricots that tasted like ears her mum forced them to eat. Elizabeth moved closer to her dark blue chair and made to sit down.
"But that doesn't mean you don't have to go to the office, Elizabeth!" Ms Louise yelled angrily.
Elizabeth slumped, trudging her feet on the colourful alphabet carpet. She could feel Natalie's smirk burning into her bag like hot lava. Boo and bullfrogs. Bull and boofrogs. This was the worstest day ever.
~lll~
"Pop quiz!" Mr Thompson trilled, giving the stacks of neon orange paper to Julia and Matthew, the special helpers for that week. Evan wanted to be a special helper, but he was picked last week, so he had to wait.
Julia handed him a piece, and Evan winced. The bright colour hurt Evan's eyes, he couldn't stand to look at it, let alone read and write off of it. He frowned and squinted at the words.
For a while in their second grade class, they were learning about multiplication. Evan was in the blue group, who were learning multiplication up to seven. He was very proud of this, as blue was the third best group. The only other groups were purple, who were up to their tens, and pink, which only had one girl in it, who was up to her twelves. Evan couldn't even dream of being in the pink group, but he could sure hope. He'd heard that after the pink group came division, and according to Michael, doing division was equivalent to H-E-double-hockey-sticks.
Evan frowned. Okay. First question. Six times seven. So, if he drew six lines of dots, then-
"Psst. Ev. What's three times two?"
Evan turned to the side and frowned. It was the boy in the Maryo hoodie who sat next to him, Addy. Addy was in the red group. They had to have special help with their math. It was where the dumb kids went, at least, that's what Michael said. Michael had been in the green group when he was Evan's age, which wasn't as good as Evan, but still pretty good.
Sometimes, the mean kids like Berlayden or Ashleeigh would make fun of Addy for being too dim to understand the math. Evan used to join in on the laughter, until Berlayden and Ashleeigh started teasing him for being small and weak and slow.
In second grade, popularity was decided by two things: speed, and which math group you were in. If you weren't in at least one of those things, you were toast, which meant Addy was a PB+J. It was a good thing Evan was smart, or else he'd have a worse fate than the occasional jab at his slowness.
And poor Addy. Evan couldn't imagine the pain and humiliation that must come with having to review such simple numbers. Addy was good at Maryo, though. Really good. He knew all the tricks and glitches, plus he'd beat all the games. Even the really old ones on a tiny green screen with little black squares.
Evan couldn't wait until middle school. Compared to speed contests and math competitions, having nice clothes and a cute nose seemed like a breeze.
He looked around. Nobody was watching. Maybe if he helped Addy out, he'd teach him how to beat Michael at Maryo! He leaned over and hissed, "Six."
"Thanks, you're a lifesaver," Addy whispered, scratching it down with his pencil. Addy did his sixes funny, all wide and wobbly. Evan's sixes were neat, slim, and tidy.
Evan turned his attention back to his work. Okay. Six times seven. So, if I add this row of seven dots here, and count them all up, then I get…
"Psst. Hey, Ev. What's one times three?"
Evan whipped around. Now he was starting to get annoyed with Addy. Maryo prodigy or not, Evan was not going to help Addy cheat any longer.
"Addy, it's three! If it's one times something, the answer will always be something! It's so easy! How do you-"
"Evan? Why are you talking to your neighbour during a test?" Mr Thompson asked, tilting his head to the side.
Evan straightened, panic setting in.
"Oh, I was just telling him-"
"You know the rules, young man. No talking during a test. I think you're going to need to go to the office."
Evan's eyes widened in horror. "No, please! Anything but that!"
"It's too late. You've sealed your fate." The teacher shrugged, leaving Evan to walk the walk of shame out of the classroom whilst twenty pairs of judging eyes watched him exit.
Addy grinned. Justice had been served. "Sucker."
~lll~
"Alrighty dudes and dudettes! We're here to have some lit bonding time with the next generation, so strap in for two hours of fun!" Mr Lee crowed, flipping his blond mullet. Mr Lee was Christian Lee's (a guy that worked with Michael's dad) nephew. And Michael could definitely see the resemblance.
"Orion Park, with Brody Callahan. Michael Afton with Robin Rodriguez." The first-grade teacher read off the names and some random short kid came up to Michael.
Michael grimaced. The kid had light brown curls, fogged-up glasses, a runny nose, and what looked like a swim shirt and shorts - in September. Yeahhhh, he got the dork of the group. He honestly hated the Little Buddies program. Kids from middle school came to their elementary school to partner up with the little kids and teach them stuff. It was so stupid though, considering all the older kids just went on their phones and all the younger kids picked their noses and smashed Legos together.
From across the room, Patrick, one of his best friends stuck his tongue out at him, and Michael pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, shaking his head. His friend was stupid, be he loved them all the same. His other best friends Joseph and Jeremy weren't there, Joseph being in Socials and the latter beinghome sick with a stomach flu, missing out on the program. Michael envied them.
"What are we doing?" The kid, Michael had already forgotten his name, asked. His voice was squeaky, like a rusty door hinge. That would probably get annoying quick.
"I dunno. Whatever." Michael shrugged, pulling out his phone and checking his messages.
"You're not supposed to be on your phone! You're supposed to be looking after me!" The kid whined.
"Too bad, so sad." Michael retorted, ignoring the dumb kid. Joseph had just texted him saying that he overheard one of the pretty girls in his Science class, Shelby May Thomas, saying that he had nice hands! This was big news!
The kid stamped his foot. "If you don't get off your phone in three seconds, then I'm going to scream." He warned.
"Do it. I literally could not care less." Michael droned, texting back a cowboy emoji to a stupid Grumpy Cat meme that Jeremy was spamming him with. That darn cat was all over the Internet these days, Elizabeth seems to find it hilarious, but Michael didn't share the same feelings. He thought it was funny at first, but now it was kind of pandering.
The kid - Sid, was it? - gathered all of his strength, all of his courage, and every last deep breath left in his lungs...and screamed.
"AÆAÄÅÆÀAÆÃAÅÆAÀÂÆ!" The kid shrieked, his dark eyes squeezed shut and his small posture tight, as if he was bearing the heavy weight of the sky on his shoulders like some kind of ancient Titan.
Michael rolled his eyes. "Shut up, brat. You're going to get the teacher called on both of us."
The kid crossed his arms and smirked smugly. "Make me. Or are you too chicken?"
Michael's eyes flashed dangerously, and he growled. "WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME, YOU LITTLE SH-"
~lll~
"My my, three Afton kids out of three. That's a first. Tell me, what are you in for?" Mrs North clasped her hands together, fingers woven tightly. Mrs North was a large woman, with loud lipstick and blue eyeshadow, her orange hair fluffy and big. She wore colourful scarves and watercolour dresses, with lots and lots of turquoise beads and jewellery.
"I bit a yucky old lady and made fun of this girl for her voice." Elizabeth chirped.
Mrs North, the elementary school guidance counsellor, sighed and shook her head, sensing an opportunity for counselling. "Elizabeth, it is not Natalie's fault that her voice sounds different, and you shouldn't say hurtful things like that."
"Yeah, well, it's annoying." Liz slouched in her seat, the itchy green wool becoming more and more unpleasant by the second. Her older brothers waited beside her, Evan looking terrified and Michael simply looking bored.
"She has a speech impediment, Elizabeth. She can't control it."
"Well, she should try harder to control it."
"It's not that easy."
"Sounds pretty easy. Ssssssss. See? Easy."
Mrs North pinched the bridge of her nose. "Okay. Okay. How about you two? Michael, you've been in here plenty of times, but Evan? Why are you here?"
"I was talking during class." Evan said bashfully, looking rather ashamed of himself. He stared at the floor timidly, not meeting anyone's gaze.
"I threatened a six-year-old," Michael yawned, examining his short nails.
Mrs North frowned. Her guidance counsellor readings were beeping furiously, and one thing was for sure...This was not good. "Are you three okay? Is there something going on at home? You can talk to me, this is a safe space."
Yeah. Uh-huh. You totally won't report our every move to the principal, our classmates, and our parents, Michael thought dryly.
Evan shrugged. "Not really. Our mom is nice, and our dad is...busy, but he's okay." He didn't want to mention that his dad was barely around enough for Evan to even summarize him in a few words. Scary? Smart?...Okay?
"Hm." Mrs North didn't look convinced. "You said that your father is 'busy' a lot of the time. How does that make you three feel?"
"Sad," Elizabeth pouted.
"Okay," Evan replied, unable to use any descriptive words other than 'okay'. Mr Lee would be disappointed.
"It's annoying, but I don't really care," Michael responded, leaning back in his reclining chair. Lucky Michael, getting the nice un-itchy chair.
"Well, I feel sad about it, because Daddy is the bestest person in the whole wide world!" Elizabeth said, spreading her arms out wide to make a point.
Suddy, there was a knock on the door. Mrs North stood up and opened the door to a twenty-something woman with French braids in her dark hair waiting with a clipboard.
"The group therapy class is just waiting for you in the other room," The lady informed her.
Mrs North smiled."We'll just be a second, hon." She closed the door and turned back to the kids. "So sorry about that, I run a group therapy class during maths class."
Group... therapy...during...maths...class? The words registered in Michael's brain and he suddenly had an idea.
"Yeah, actually, I've ah," He stretched out and cleared his throat. "I've been feeling really depressed recently. You know, because of...money. And stuff." Michael said, leaning on the arms of his chair.
"Doesn't your father run Fazbear Entertainment? That must rack in a lot of money," Mrs North asked.
Michael closed his mouth, then opened it again. "Um. Well, yes. It just makes me so sad, seeing all the poor people who... don't have the same advantages we have!" He shook his head, making his face look very sad.
"Well, of course you'd feel bad for the people with less money than you, but that's not so bad compared to everything else going on in the world around you." Mrs North replied sternly. Jeez, way to invalidate his 'problems'. Some therapist she was!
I'll have to find something else to play up, Michael thought in frustration, racking his brain for ideas. Oh! That was a good one. He played this card a lot whenever his teachers got angry at him for skipping class with his friends.
"Oh, and our parents are divorced, right guys?" Michael asked, turning to his siblings, who both nodded. "Yeahhhh, it was pretty scary stuff. They fought a lot, and we usually only see our mom every other Sunday. Pretty traumatising for the three of us, eh?"
"I wasn't scared." Elizabeth objected crossly. Michael clutched his chest and gasped.
"She's in denial. At such a young age, too!"
"Oh, my!" Mrs North exclaimed, a manicured hand over her mouth. "How horrible!"
"It truly is," Michael agreed. "And with my mom gone, I am tasked with the feat of being like a second parent...alas, I am but the mere age of twelve. It makes us all feel like there is nobody in this world who could possibly understand or relate to us."
He was playing it up, he knew, but it was the only way he could get Mrs North to let them in. Michael hated math with a burning passion. It was so boring, listening to the same old teacher drone on and on about the same old problems, day after day after day.
Mrs North frowned. "It sounds to me like you three are feeling rather sad about your father's absence, as well as the divorce of your parents." She said, but she still didn't look convinced. She just needed one last push…
"And…" Michael gave his siblings a pleading look and prayed that they wouldn't say anything about this. "And our grandparents died yesterday."
"Both of them?" Mrs North asked in shock.
"Yeah! They had a stroke." Elizabeth said, proud of herself for remembering one of the many ways to die. It was such a fun word! Like when she stroked a puppy's sleek fur, or when she stroked her yellow paintbrush across the canvas on one of her classroom's many easels.
Evan shook his head. "That's not tru- ow!" He whipped his head around and glared at Michael, who'd reached under the table and pinched his arm.
"Something wrong, dear?" Mrs North asked, tilting her head to the side in concern.
"Just a fly," Evan lied. "A very annoying fly."
"Evan's allergic," Michael lied. "It's very scary for him at summery times like this, the poor thing!"
Mrs North looked stunned. "Well, that settles it! I say you should join us in group therapy. That is, if it's okay with you three?"
Michael pointed at her, realizing something. "Problem. I go to middle school."
"Oh, that's really no problem at all! There is a young boy your age who comes here too. I'm sure we can work something out." Especially considering that the middle school and the elementary school were right beside each other and even shared playgrounds and some teachers. It would be quite easy for Michael to simply walk there.
Evan, who'd been deep in thought, suddenly spoke up.
"But, Mrs North, we'll miss ma-"
From where Mrs North couldn't see it, Michael kicked his brother in the shin, a forced smile on his face. Evan mouthed an ow and glared at him. Michael shot him a look, his eyes widening. Evan rolled his eyes and mouthed fine.
"Sounds good, Mrs N. We'll start tomorrow, 11:30 sharp!" Michael chirped, folding his hands in his lap and giving the old teacher a blindingly bright grin.
~lll~
"So, what happened at school today?" William asked, taking a bite of his hot dog that he'd slathered in yellow mustard.
He was extremely happy to be off soft foods since being released from the hospital, although they advised him to take it easy after they stitched up his slice wounds. They made doing simple things like sleeping excruciatingly painful. So yeah, William was having the time of his life.
The four of them were seated at their dining table, eating the hotdogs that their father had boiled and prepared with minimal effort.
"Well, we went to the couns- OW! Stop doing that, Mike!" Evan cried, wincing at the many bruises that were sure to appear on his poor innocent leg.
Michael fixed a smile on his face. "It went well! Evan did his math test, Elizabeth did well on her presentation about ice cream, and I had a Little Buddies class."
"Interesting. And is your buddy nice?" William asked, taking a bite of a crunchy orange baby carrot.
"Um." In the two minutes Michael had known the kid, he hadn't seemed very 'nice'. "Yeahhhhh. Sure. Nice."
William gave him a disbelieving look, but didn't mention it, instead taking a huge bite of a slightly larger carrot.
"There was a mean girl at school today," Elizabeth spoke up. "She kept mocking me."
"Oh no." William said unsympathetically. "How horrible."
"It was. But don't worry, because I made fun of her speech." Elizabeth boasted, flashing small teeth like pearls and kicking her legs under the table. One of her feet hit Michael's, who kicked her right back.
"Hm. And you didn't get in trouble?" William frowned. Elizabeth opened her mouth, about to tell her father about how all three of them had gotten in trouble that day, but Michael shot her a murderous look.
"...No."
They ate in silence for a while, chewing their food. Across the table, Evan took two carrots and stuck them in his mouth, hiding the tips of the carrots in his upper lip.
"Lookit, I'm a walrus!" He laughed. Elizabeth laughed along, but Michael just rolled his eyes and William paid him no mind. Instead, William stood up, carrying his plate with him.
"Well, I'm going to go work on a new model for the Pizza World." He announced.
The Pizza World was something him and Henry had been working on for some time now. It was going to be a sister location to Fredbear's, and the two of them had already rented out a large empty building for it to be. William had been down in the basement for hours and hours every day, tinkering away at his robots. When he came upstairs, his clothes and face always smelled like gasoline and were splattered with oil and engine grease.
"You three finish your food and put your dishes in the sink - Michael, you wash them." He ordered, turning around to go to the kitchen and drop off his plate.
"What?! But I washed them yesterday! It's Evan's turn!" Michael complained.
"No it's not! I did most of it yesterday, and you just did a few plates! I'm too short to reach the top drawer anyway, I can barely reach the cups!" Evan objected.
"Aw, boo hoo." Michael mocked. "Excuses, excuses. You're so typical!"
From across the table, Elizabeth watched the chaos unfold. Being five did have it's advantages, namely that she didn't have to do the dishwasher. Instead, she just ate her carrots, the bright colour not unlinke her own hair, and observed the show in front of her.
As the two of them bickered, William's eyes shot from Evan to Michael, and back again repeatedly. Finally, he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, voice oddly calm. "Michael, just- do the bloody dishes. Please."
Michael opened his mouth, ready to object and yell back at his father, but the deathly quietness of his voice surprised him. Usually, his father would explode with some kind of outburst, or get angry and not give them any money for food the next day. That was annoying! He was twelve dollars in debt from Jeremy, who was kind enough to forget the debt. But when his father was quiet, like now...either he was angrier at their fighting than Michael had anticipated, or he was just really tired. Probably a mix of both, if he was being honest.
Michael groaned. "Fi-ne. But Evan is doing them next time!"
"Good! That's what we agreed to!" Evan yelled, throwing his arms up dramatically.
William rolled his eyes, leaving the kitchen to go down to the basement like he should have done eons ago. He had some...plans that needed figuring out, and soon.
Elizabeth watched her father go, then turned to her brothers with an expression on her face which could only be described as pure misery.
"I don't like keeping secrets from Daddy. It doesn't feel right." She mumbled, poking a finger through the small hole she'd made in the floral plastic tablecloth.
"Yeah, well, it has to be done if you wanna skip class." Michael said, shrugging and leaning back in his chair.
"That's the thing, I don't wanna skip class! Actually, I'm pretty sure you're the only one who does!" Evan cried in outrage. "I never agreed to any of this stuff, I only lied so that you wouldn't get in trouble."
Michael rolled his eyes. "Oh no, is the little baby gonna cry? Grow up, Evan. Kids skip class all the time, it's barely a reason to whine about."
Evan shook his head as he kept eye contact with his brother, blinking rapidly to keep the tears back. Wait- no, there were no tears, because he wasn't a crybaby. "Tomorrow I'm going to do what I should've done in the first place. I'm going to tell Mrs North what you did and apologize for going along with it."
Michael narrowed his eyes. "You wouldn't dare."
"Try me." Evan retorted.
But instead of advancing on him, or taking his money or whatever Michael usually did to punish him, Michael simply flopped on the couch behind him, crossed his arms behind his head, and asked, "What class do you have at 10:15?"
Evan wrinkled his brow. "What?"
"I asked, what class do you have at 10:15? It's not a hard question, it doesn't take many brain cells. Shouldn't be hard for a nerd like you." Michael laughed.
Evan thought for a moment. "Um, Gym? I think?" He didn't see how this could be a part of Michael's argument.
"We have orange slices at 10:15." Elizabeth chimed in. "I like the peel part."
Michael gave her a concerned look. "Lizzy, you're- you're not supposed to eat the peel."
"But it's the best parttttt!" She whined, rolling over the top of the couch and off Michael's stomach onto the floor. Michael winced at the sudden weight, but chose not to say anything.
"I still don't see what Gym class has to do with you lying your way into therapy." Evan said, crossing his arms.
"Well, I mean...you don't like Gym class much, do you?" Michael asked. "You're short, and small, and weak, and slow, and short, and tiny, and short-"
"Okay, okay!" Evan cut him off, frowning. He wasn't exactly short, it was just that he lived in a house of giants! Like his father, and Michael… Unfortunately, Evan did not inherit the tall gene from his father. Like jeez, his father was 6'6. Evan was only 3'8. Even Elizabeth was tall for her age, but that didn't mean much at five. And Michael towered over him at 5'8.
"Point is, wouldn't it be better to skip, and have a valid reason for it? It would be so much easier for you." Michael coaxed. "To not have to worry about those kids teasing you, to skip all the cruel remarks…"
Evan considered this. It did sound nice, getting to skip what was probably the worst part of his day. Not getting all hot and sweaty for no good reason, no snide comments or disappointed looks, no self-humiliation…
"Aw, what the heck. Sure." Evan sighed, giving in. "But I don't want to get too far into it, okay? I don't like lying to people."
Michael grinned. "Don't worry about it, Ev. It's just gonna be a few sad losers talking about their feelings. It's not like it's gonna be torture or anything!"
~lll~
This was torture in every sense of the word.
Okay, maybe it wasn't so bad. It was better than rotting away in math class, that was for sure. But this, this was pain radiating in every fibre of Michael's being.
Well, he supposed he should probably take it back to the beginning of the day. Currently, he was in bed at 11:56, watching reruns of Jrake and Dosh, one of his favourite shows, and trying to get over what had happened that day.
It started off pretty normally. The three of them ate toasted waffles with peanut butter and orange juice for breakfast, and Michael managed to get Elizabeth to eat her vitamins by crushing them up and hiding them in her juice. He then hurried his siblings to the bus stop (it took both elementary and middle school kids because the schools were right next to each other).
Then they went on a casual jog to catch the bus because it happened to be speeding away from them due to them being five minutes late. Luckily, the bus driver noticed them and stopped just in time. Also, Michael forgot his socks. And his math homework. Unfortunately, his priorities of homework and socks were below giving Elizabeth her vitamins.
Then he made it to school and spent homeroom talking to his friends (Jeremy was back from being sick, happily) and teasingly flirting with Shelby May. Michael was sure she liked it, from the way she giggled and whispered to her friends afterwards.
That gave him a good boost of confidence. Shelby May was- well, it felt rather immature to say it, but she was very 'popular' in their school. And not to brag, but Michael was in the same circle as her. He'd built his reputation on being somewhat of a daredevil/class clown and it had worked well, to say the least. Having an accent didn't hurt either. He had friends, respect- now all he needed was a connection with the prettiest girl in school...perhaps a romantic connection?
Next Michael had science class. They were learning about density and mass and volume, but Michael kept mixing it up with the Pythagorean theorem from math and ended up answering '64.5' to a question about a graduated sphere or whatever. The whole class laughed, so he played it off as a joke.
And finally came maths class- or, about ten seconds of it. It honestly felt pretty badass to hear his name called on the PA system and to have everyone's eyes turn to him as he was casually given permission to skip class and he got to walk out with a swagger in his step.
Michael made his way down the corridor, his backpack slung over one shoulder, and out the front doors. He ran down the steps and towards the elementary school. Michael passed a group of third-graders on the playground, their bloodcurdling screams reminiscent of a slasher film. Entering the building, he observed the surroundings and he made his way down the white linoleum floor. Posters for Chess Club, a wooden Lost-And-Found bin, a large paper tree with little hand-print leaves with kids names on them made of construction paper and tacked to a bulletin board.
Michael smiled fondly, remembering being a little kid in this school. He recalled sitting in those lime beanbags in the primary neighborhood, digging with plastic shovels in the rice bin for mini dinosaurs, chasing his friends down the halls and trying not to get caught by a lunch duty for sneaking inside during recess. Nostalgia in its purest form.
He rounded a corner, coming face-to-face with three doors. The handicapped bathroom, the teachers lounge...and the counselors office. Michael swallowed. Was he really going to lie and cheat being mentally ill, dragging his little siblings into it, all for an hour out of some class he disliked?
Of course he was! He was a daredevil after all, and surely this story would get a kick out of whoever Michael graced with telling. Besides, who was even in this room? Him and his perfectly normal siblings with a bunch of unstable reject weirdos who were sad enough to spend sixty minutes in a padded 'safe space' where they could be bizarre together. Yeah, right. Threatening.
He grabbed the handle and turned it.
Oh no.
Mrs North, Elizabeth, and Evan were standing in a semicircle, each wearing stupid matching T-shirts, along with three kids Michael didn't recognize and-
"Jeremy?! What the hell are you doing here?!" Michael exclaimed. Jeremy's sandy-blond head spun around, meeting Michael's boye gaze with his own. He paled, giving Michael a small, tentative wave.
One of the kids who had a blue lollipop jammed in his slobbery mouth gasped. "He said a swear word!"
Mrs North smiled. "Oh, Teddy, sometimes people just need to express themselves! After all, swear words are just that, words. They won't hurt you." She turned to Michael. "Of course, an elementary school isn't necessarily the best place to use them, Michael."
"Sorry," Michael mumbled, don't meaning a word of it. He was still sort of gobsmacked that Jeremy of all people was here. Why would he be in therapy?!
Mrs North beamed at Michael. "Mike, why don't you join us? We're doing some icebreakers, and you're just in time. Why don't you stand in-between Teddy and Jeremy for me?"
"Um, okay." Michael dropped his backpack in the pile of other bags, standing beside his friend and the kid with one lollipop in his mouth and another one stuck in his poofy dark curls. Reminding him, Michael fished around in his pocket and pulled out a stick of watermelon gum, unwrapping it and chewing it with relish.
Mrs North clapped her hands. "Alrighty everyone! So, I want to start today's meeting off by saying that this is a safe space for everyone. I want you all to know that nobody here will judge you, because they are probably going through similar problems of their own…"
Blah, blah, blah. Michael thought to himself, mentally rolling his eyes. Sure this was pretty dull, but nothing was better than the living hell that was maths class.
"Now, let's join hands for our warm-up activity!" Mrs North instructed, taking Elizabeth's hand in her left and some other girl about Elizabeth's age with glasses and braided brown hair. To Michael's horror, everyone started to join hands, up until Jeremy, who was giving him a pleading look to just go with it.
So, with great sadness, Michael took Jeremy's hand in his (not bad) and then took Teddy's hand (very bad).
Eughhh. Jeremy's hand was...well, a hand. Not much to say there. But Teddy's was just...gross! It was all clammy and sticky from the lollipop. Michael had never, ever understood the purpose of holding hands. Did clasping phalanges somehow make two people closer? Michael sure didn't think so.
"Okay, so I want everyone here to say their name, their grade, and their favourite thing in the whole world! I'll go first. My name is Mrs North, I'm a teacher here, and my favourite thing is my violin." She smiled.
"How old are you?" Elizabeth asked curiously, tilting her head to the side and making her amber ponytail swing.
Mrs North laughed. "Oh, well, that's not really a polite thing to answer now is it?"
Elizabeth ignored her refusal, instead saying bluntly, "You look old."
Laughing awkwardly, Mrs North said. "Elizabeth, honey, you really shouldn't say things like that. It can be hurtful to women of my age."
"Mummy says I'm looking older all the time. Is she insulting me?"
"Well, no. It's different for little girls like you. A compliment for adult women is to say they look young."
"That's stupid." Elizabeth decided.
"Maybe, but that's how it is." Mrs North sighed. "Natalie? It's your turn to go."
The girl with the glasses and braids grinned, showing off two missing front teeth. "Hello. My name ith Natalie Barker, I'm in kindergarten, an' I really really really love hortheth!"
Yikes. Nerd-in-the-making right here, Michael thought, wincing at the spit that thprayed from her mouth- God, she was even making him think with a lisp!
Next up was a skinny boy with ginger hair and an oversized Maryo hoodie (geek-in-the-making, Michael supposed). He looked sort of nervous to be there. "Um, I'm Addison Kane, but everyone calls me Addy, or Candy Kane. I'm in grade two, and my favourite thing is my really old Game Boy that my uncle got for me. You can play lots of Maryo with it."
Mrs North beamed. "Excellent."
Next up was Teddy, and boy did he have a lot to say.
"Hiya ladies and gentlemen! I'm Theodore Baxter Bartholomew Kingsley III, but my mom calls me Teddy or Teddy-bear, but I don't like being called Teddy-bear because I'm allergic to a lot of the fibres. I'm allergic to a lot of stuff. Like pollen, and peanuts, and cats, and wasps-"
"How about just your grade and favourite thing, Teddy. We can talk about your allergies later, okay?" Mrs North suggested.
Teddy didn't seem fazed. "Okay. I'm in grade four, and I'm nine and a half years old 'cause my half birthday was last month. And my favourite thing is probably my puffer because it keeps me from having an asthma attack and dying." Teddy explained.
"Woahhh." The elementary school kids seemed impressed by this newfound knowledge.
"How would you die from an azimama attack?" Elizabeth asked, intrigued.
Teddy grinned, happy someone was interested. "I've had one before, when I was six. Basically my throat closes up and it feels like I can't breathe, cause I can't. Then Mom or someone else gives me my puffer and I have to breathe in and hold my breath for a while."
"Does the puffer hurt?" Natalie asked worriedly. Teddy scrunched up his face.
"Not really, but sometimes it's scary and I don't like it. But I think of the holding my breath part as training for swim lessons so I can touch the bottom of the pool. I haven't done that yet."
"Well, isn't that something!" Mrs North said. "Now you all know what it's like to use one of those things. My sister has asthma, and I've seen her use one a zillion times. It's not pleasant, but it's not unbearable."
"Bears! I told you I don't like bears!" Teddy yelled. Michael rolled his eyes. This kid needed to get a grip and focus on what was actually happening in real life-
"Michael? Focus, it's your turn." Mrs North chided. Michael blinked. Whoops.
"Uh, I'm Michael Afton. I'm in grade seven, and my favourite thing is probably…" What a stupid question. It was so broad, it could mean anything. "I dunno, my computer?"
Next up was Jeremy, who looked anxious out of his mind. Michael couldn't help but wonder if it was because he was there.
"I'm J-Jeremy Fitzgerald. I'm in seventh grade too. And, uh, I like my paint set. And f-foxes. They have pretty fur and funny b-barks. The Arctic ones are nice. I like the white f-fur" He stuttered, looking at the floor.
Michael smiled a little. His friend had always had a thing for foxes, whether it was studying them, reading books about them, or Jeremy's favourite- painting them. Michael had to admit, his friend was an extremely talented artist, especially in the watercolour department.
"Hello. I'm Evan Afton, I'm in second grade, and my favourite thing is my best friend Cassidy." Evan chirped sweetly.
Mrs North cooed in delight. "Aww, how sweet! She must be a very lucky girl."
Michael snorted. Gag me. As if any of that friendship is magic stuff was real. Evan was just like those Grumpy Cat memes, pandering to babies and middle-aged women.
And...oh no, it was Elizabeth's turn. From Michael's experience of five years with his sister, whenever it was Elizabeth's turn for anything, it could only result in chaos.
But to Michael's surprise, she was surprisingly peaceful. "Hi everyone! My name is Elizabeth Eleanor Afton, I'm in grade zero - (some chuckles from Mrs North) - and my favourite thing in the whole wide world is a tie between ice cream and my Daddy!"
Mrs North smiled. "How wonderful, a girl's love for her father. And he created the Fredbear's brand, he must be a smart fellow."
"He is. People say he's brilliant." Evan chimed in, praising his father.
"I'm sure he is," agreed Mrs North. "Now! For the remaining thirty-five minutes, I have an exciting and entertaining game for all of us to play to help our group bond!"
Michael grinned. This was what he was waiting for. Sure, it was probably some stupid game designed for mentally unstable kids (besides Jeremy and the Afton crew, of course), but who knows? It could be fun!
Well, that was what he thought. Right before Mrs North uttered seven of the most horrifying words Michael had ever heard.
"Now, everyone knows the Hokey Pokey, right?"
~lll~
"Today was pretty fun, right Mike?" Evan asked as they walked up the cobblestone-pathed grassy hill to their house on top. Elizabeth skipped alongside them, hopping on each large rock. . The kids in Elizabeth and Evan's classes had had a field trip to the local museum, so they stayed an extra hour. Which was why they were walking home with Michael that afternoon. They both looked happy and healthy.
Michael, however, was not either of the two. Not even remotely. His heart was pounding in his skull. Sweat was drying on his back. His eyes were bloodshot and baggy, and his soul had long since withered away.
"No, Evan, today was not 'pretty fun'!" Michael snapped at his little brother. God, that ear-splitting song was echoing in his brain. He might be legitimately going insane.
Elizabeth grinned cheerfully. "I'm excited for tomorrow. I wanna sing the funny song again! Don't you, Mikey?"
"I'd rather stab myself in the eye. Repeatedly. With a rusty fork." Michael deadpanned venomously. His siblings wisely chose not to prod him anymore.
They reached the front steps of their large, spruce wood mansion. The three of them wiped the muck and dirt off their sneakers on the welcome mat (which Elizabeth had drawn on with chalk a bunch of smiley faces with their eyes crossed out. Totally not creepy or anything.)
Michael unlocked the front door with his key and they dropped their bags by the door. However, instead of following his siblings into the kitchen like they usually did, Michael went straight to his room upstairs and slammed the door, throwing himself onto his bed face-down and smushing a white pillow on top of his head, groaning.
They sang...Hokey Pokey...for thirty freaking minutes. Oh God, saying it just puts that into perspective. One thousand eight hundred seconds spent singing that godforsaken song over and over and over and putting their right hands in and out and shaking them all around and doing what it was all about-
Michael was going insane.
But that wasn't where the torture ended, oh no. Because late that evening, after William had come home and made them all boxed mac and cheese for eight billionth time, while Evan and Michael were doing their homework and Elizabeth was playing Smash City beside them, and William was in his office just down the hall...the phone rang.
Of course, none of them thought too much of it. Michael folded his book in half and stood up to go check if it was one of his friends or just a scam caller- until he saw the name attached to it. His blood turned to ice.
Call from M North.
"Guys!" He hissed between clenched teeth quietly so his father wouldn't hear. "It's Mrs North!"
Both kids immediately scrambled to their feet, rushing over to Mike to see for themselves.
"Maybe it's some other M North?" Evan asked, shrugging.
Elizabeth frowned, peering at the name flashing on the phone. "Is her first name Mrs?"
"No to both of you. Here, I'm going to answer the phone as Father and you two need to be quiet, okay?" Michael instructed. His siblings both nodded vigorously.
He pressed the 'talk' button and held it to his ear.
"Hello?" He said, deepening his voice to try and sound like his father. Hopefully it sounded better than it sounded to his ears.
"Hi, Mr Afton? Yes, I'm calling just to inform you of your children's application to group therapy?" Mrs North said. It was odd how she made everything sound like a question.
"Ah, yes! Of course they've told me about it, don't be...daft!" Michael laughed.
"Well, that's good. And how are they doing? With the passing of their grandparents? I'm so sorry to hear about that, by the way." Mrs North said sympathetically.
Michael glanced at his siblings, who were waiting anxiously beside him. He gave them a thumbs-up of reassurance and continued his talk. "Yes, well, we all pass eventually, unfortunately. The kids are alright, but I think they might need some more time. Can't rush grief, right ol' chap?"
"Of course, of course." Mrs North agreed. "Is there anything else you wanted to tell me?"
Michael frowned. He didn't want to push his luck, or anything, but there was one suggestion he did have in mind.
"Well, there was one thing. Michael, my oldest and smartest child? He responded badly to that wretched- er, delightful song you sang today. Is there any way you could, I don't know, do something different the next day? Say, a video game day?"
"A video game day! Hm." Mrs North seemed to think it over, then declared. "Sure! Why not. Well, I really should get going, I've got six rabbits and they're all begging to be pet."
Michael winced. Who cared about crazy cat ladies, this woman was a crazy rabbit lady. "Jolly good! Have a splendid evening."
"You as well, Mr Afton." Then she hung up, and the three of them sighed with relief.
"'Jolly good'? Daddy doesn't say that! You made him sound like a British person." Elizabeth objected, seemingly offended by Michael's interpretation.
"You're British, Lizzy." Michael chided. "And come on, Father says weird stuff like that all the time."
"Rubbish. I've never said 'jolly' in my life." William corrected, appearing in the doorway behind them, carrying a phone in his hand. Michael gulped. Oops.
"Care to explain what that whole conversation and nauseating impression of me was all about?" He asked, dangling the phone in the air as if to mock them. Elizabeth's lower lip trembled, and Michael sighed, rolling his eyes. Why not let her have this one, she was going to spill eventually.
"WeallgotintroubleandweresenttothecounselorsofficeandMikeygotusintogrouptherapyandliedanditwasfunandwesangtheHokeyPokeybutIdidn'tlikelyingtoyouandI'msososososorry!" Elizabeth wailed, running over and hugging her father tightly, tears streaming down her face pathetically.
Evan nodded. "I'm sorry too. Michael got me into it too, but it was partially my fault for agreeing and going along with it. Partially my fault." He glared at Michael, who glared right back. How dare Evan throw him under the bus?
"Right." His father didn't look very surprised. "Well, because Mike was clearly the ringleader, no video games for a month."
"A month?!" Michael gaped. "That's a bit unreasonable, don't you think?"
"I think it's plenty reasonable, right ol' chap?" His father said, smirking. "And for the rest of you, no dessert for a week. And let it be known that I am going easy on you. No running to Mrs North complaining about me, alright? Now off to your rooms, it's time for bed."
"Fine," the three of them sighed, each heading to their respective rooms to collapse into sleep.
So yeah. Not a good day for Michael. But, hey, at least he got to skip one math class!
~lll~
That day at school, Michael had one goal: make it through the day, and tell Mrs North what he'd done. Easy enough, right?
After homeroom and science class were done, Michael headed out to the therapy room. While he was walking, he could hear footsteps behind him. Before he could turn around to see who it was, the figure appeared at his side.
"Hey, Mike!" Jeremy said cheerfully, slowing his pace down to match Michael's. "What's up?"
"Eh, nothing much." Michael lied, then winced. He was lying an awful lot recently. He didn't really mind lying to adults who could care less about, but to his best friend?
"Okay, maybe there is something. See, I might've lied a bit to get into this therapy thingy. I wanted to skip math, and I heard about this class…"
"Ah." Jeremy seemed surprised. "So you're actually fine? Is there anything going on at home? You can tell me, you know." His blue eyes were wide and comforting.
Michael scoffed. "Sure. I mean, my father kind of sucks, but I don't really care. It's just annoying that he leaves me to take care of Evan and Liz all the time."
Jeremy nodded. "That must suck, yeah." He paused. "Do you like the therapy class?"
Michael snorted. "I mean, it's sort of tolerable. That is, if you don't count that Hokey Pokey bullshit Mrs North pulled. God, I think it's deafened me for life. I thought teacher's weren't allowed to abuse kids!"
Jeremy laughed. "Oh, come on. It wasn't that bad!"
"Sure. And I'm the Tooth Fairy." Michael scoffed. But then Michael turned to his friend, asking the question that had been on his mind for quite some time.
"But why do you go here? You seem happy, so what's up with that?"
"Oh…" Jeremy smiled, a bit sadly. "It's nothing, really. I think my mom was overreacting when she sent me here."
"Really?" Michael studied his friend's face. He didn't seem depressed, or anything. Then again, Michael was never very good at reading emotions. "Okay. As long as you're good, I don't want you crying on me, Jer."
Jeremy laughed a little. "I won't, I won't. I'm totally good." He shoved his hands in the pockets of his soft black jacket, continuing on his journey beside Michael. Then he stopped.
"Mike?"
"Yeah?" Michael stopped as well, turning to face him.
Jeremy looked like he was about to say something more important, but shook his head. "Nothing. I like your earrings. Very 'baddie' of you."
Michael rolled his eyes, but he was grinning. "You're such an idiot, Jer." He laughed, giving him a friendly punch on the shoulder.
When they approached the door, there was a loud, muffled sound that could be heard through the wall. The two boys exchanged glances, shrugged, and then entered the room.
Chaos. Chaos and Elizabeth. Two words that went well together.
Elizabeth and the nerdy girl with the braids and glasses were screaming at each other, hurling stuffed animals and figurines and whatever else they could find at each other. The other kids were crouched behind the toy bin for safety, and Mrs North was desperately trying to calm Liz and Natalie down.
"Lizzy, what are you doing?!" Michael asked, exasperated.
At the sound of his voice, Elizabeth immediately stopped what she was doing and ran towards her older brother, wailing.
"Mikeyyyyy! Mrs North said to list things we didn't like and Natalie said that ice cream was stupid and that she didn't like yellow!" Elizabeth cried, clinging to his waist. Michael sighed. His sister was wearing a yellow skirt with long overall straps and a yellow bow in her hair. Nice going, Natalie.
"Liz, you can't attack her, it's just her opinion. Apologize, please." Michael chided.
Elizabeth frowned, walking towards Natalie. "You say sorry first!"
Natalie grinned and pointed at Elizabeth, her index finger outstretched. "I'm thorry...thorry that your bow is so ugly!"
Elizabeth's response was to bite Natalie's finger.
Natalie cluched her finger and shrieked, dashing around in circles in a frenzy. "THEE BIT ME! I'VE GOT RABIETH!"
"Good! I hope you get 'babies'." Elizabeth retorted angrily.
"Okay, time-out!" Mrs North yelled, stepping in-between the two girls. "Elizabeth, please apologize to Natalie for biting and throwing stuffies at her."
Elizabeth crossed her arms, shaking her head. "You can't make me! You're not my Daddy."
"Elizabeth." Michael loomed over his sister, his face shadowed. "If you don't apologize, I'll tell Father what you've done. You don't want him to be disappointed in you, do you?"
Elizabeth gasped, shaking her head wildly in terror. "No! I'm sorry for throwing stuff at you Natalie." She apologized.
Natalie smirked, pleased with her response.
"Yay. And I'm thorry for thaying I didn't like ice cream or yellow. I've just never had ice cream." She explained.
Stunned horror washed over Elizabeth's face. "You've never had...ice cream?! Ever?! You need to have it! You should come over to my house for a playdate." She suggested.
Natalie beamed. "Really? Hey, we thould be betht friendth forever!"
"Yeah! That's a great idea!" Elizabeth cheered, and the two girls went to sit on the foam jigsaw puzzle mats on the floor to play with the dolls and stuffies that just minutes earlier, they were furiously chucking at each other. Ah, the simplicity of five-year-olds. How he wished it could always be like that.
As the other kids crept out of hiding, Michael walked over to Mrs North, lowering his voice.
"Um, Mrs North? There's something I have to talk to you about." He said. The lady nodded, eyes wide, and led him into a tiny office inside the room.
"What is it, Mike?" She asked, taking a seat on her comfy armchair. Michael did a mental fist-pump in victory, he got the rolling chair! But no time for small accomplishments, he needed to apologize to Mrs North or else his father would get angrier, and Michael definitely didn't want that. He looked at the floor, avoiding eye contact with the older lady.
"Um, so, in order to skip maths class, I kinda sorta might've...lied and played things up to get us into this group therapy. I roped Liz and Evan into it...well, Evan wanted to skip Gym. But still, it was my fault for getting them to agree in the first place. I'm sorry."
Michael had learned over years of apologizing to adults that saying it was your fault and looking sad usually worked wonders. But Mrs North simply said, "I know."
"What?! But I thought-"
"Five years of university and twenty-two years of being a child therapist, and you think I'm going to be outsmarted by some random twelve-year-old boy?" She laughed. Michael looked at the floor, embarrassed. I guess my lies weren't as good, after all.
Mrs North's features softened. "But listen. I am not one to turn anyone away from help. I would have let you in even if all of your grandparents didn't simultaneously die of a stroke," Mrs North said in amusement. "If I see three siblings all asking for help, I will let them in. I live by the honour system. Of course, there are ones who try and fake their way in…" She looked right at Michael, but there was a kind smile on her face.
"Mike, you and your siblings are all very bright children. You live in a nice house, have nice clothes, good grades- whatever. But none of that matters if you have some kind of battle going on behind the scenes. You can talk to me, Mike. Got lots and lots of practice under my belt."
Michael shuffled around on the seat, the squishy fabric suddenly uncomfortable. Did he have something going on? He didn't think so. Like she said, he was popular, good-looking, and rich. He had it all! He was happy and healthy!
"No. I'm fine." Was his final answer.
Mrs North looked at him for a long time, then smiled softly.
"Listen, if you or Evan or Elizabeth ever need something, please don't hesitate to talk to me or your father-"
Ha.
"-or anyone else you trust. Now, I can't let you three stay here if you don't need my help, so I will have to tell you that this is your last day here."
Michael nodded. "Can do. I'll tell my siblings."
~lll~
At the end of the day, Michael had left his English class and was walking out to the parking lot when he spotted someone. Shiny caramel hair, doe-like brown eyes, floral tank top- it was Shelby May! And it looked like she was talking to someone-
"Mike-y! Hi!" Addy called, waving vigorously. Shelby May turned around, seeing Michael and smiling that beautiful smile of hers. Michael tentatively wandered over to them.
"Hey! How do you know my cousin?" Shelby May asked, pointing to a beaming Addy.
"Oh, um, from...Little Buddies." Michael said, running a hand through his thick locks. Shelby May rolled her eyes, tossing her shiny dark hair over her shoulder.
"That program, like, totally blows." She complained.
Michael nodded. "I know, right? Like, can't the next generation teach themselves?"
Shelby May giggled. "You're funny. Hey, you're Michelle's brother Patrick's friend, right? Do you want my number so we can meet up some time?"
Michael had died. He had died and gone to heaven because the prettiest girl in the whole universe had just exchanged numbers with him! When she had her back turned, Michael silently slipped Addy a piece of watermelon gum as a thanks.
"C'mon, Shell! We're going to the arcade and Mom's gonna get mad if we're late." An older girl, probably Addy's sister judging by the red hair, called, honking the horn.
"Coming Maegan!" Shelby May yelled back, then smiled apologetically. "I gotta go. See you tomorrow?"
"For sure!" Michael answered, then watched happily as her shiny red car drove away. Shelby May Thomas's number...who would have thought. His friends were never going to believe it when he told them. He stared dreamily off into the distance, before he heard the screeching of tires and realized the bus was leaving without him.
A/N
And Michael was never seen again. Two down!
I enjoyed writing this one a lot, Afton family shenanigans are always fun to write.
are u happy maegan i added you :eyeroll:
Question/Challenge: Who is your favourite from the Afton family? Elizabeth is my favourite, followed by William lol.
Have an amazing day/night!
~ghost