The Fall of the Aftons

083: Michael Afton

N-No, I don't remember.

Michael scoffed as his father's words sunk in. Of course, he didn't remember. He never remembered anything when it came to Michael. Not anymore.

"Figures," he grumbled. Then he started to walk away.

"Michael, wait," William demanded sadly.

Michael stopped, not turning to face his father.

"What are you talking about?" he continued. "Volunteering your time at the department store? When did we discuss this?"

"A week before summer break started. Remember? Right after school when we were on the way to Fazbear's. I had suggested working somewhere for the summer because I can't go to summer camp with Teej, Lav, El, and Lex. We had come up with the department store as a place to volunteer my time because it's close enough to bike to."

William's guilty eyes fell to the floor. "I'm sorry. I don't remember that conversation." He awkwardly shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. "Why can't you go to summer camp?"

"Because you missed the deadline for registration!" Michael snapped, turning around and pointing an accusatory finger at William. "Y-You were so busy with work and with Evan a-and Elizabeth that you didn't even finish filling out the forms!"

"I don't believe that it was necessary to shout at me, boy," William said firmly, his voice raised slightly. "You're acting off your trolley. If you don't quiet down, you're gunna wake your sister."

Michael's eyes burned as he groaned, frustrated and angry. He took a deep breath as he dragged a hand down his face. "You know what? Fine. I'll just... I'll just go. Then I'll finally be out of your hair and you won't have to worry about me anymore!"

He took off in a sprint, running down the stairs and leaving the house through the back door. He immediately ran into the forest, leaving his house in the dust.

After running a mile and a half in about ten minutes, he ducked into his hideaway hut--the reason why Jack always asked, "Planks or money?" The planks were for this little hut.

He sighed and slid down the wall of uneven planks beside the open one. He needed to build a door soon. Once he was done with the door, then he could properly build the rest of the missing wall.

He looked around at the familiar surroundings. He was about a quarter of the way through the forest. It was about four miles wide and seven miles long. Twenty-eight square miles of woodland that he had every single twist and turn memorized. He spent so much time out here that he had two maps of the entire area. One was a mental map, and the other was on paper in case of an emergency so then his family or friends could find him if he was gone too long.

Would William or Henry consider this an emergency? How Michael just ran into the woods and had no intention of coming back soon? How he didn't want to come back for a while, in general? He hadn't told William about the emergency map yet, nor had he told Henry. Would be able to find it anyway? Or would they search the forest without any type of guide? They'd get lost if they tried to search for him without a guide. He didn't want them to get lost.

With a heavy sigh, he exited his hideaway hut and stood up, starting the second-fastest route home. But, after about ten minutes of walking, he suddenly ran face-first into something that shouldn't be there. He fell flat onto his back, laying there for a few seconds before he propped himself on his elbows and clutched his aching head.

"Oh! Michael! Just who I was looking for."

Michael looked up, grateful to see Henry--especially since William wasn't with him.

"I found the map you made," Henry explained, showing Michael the map. "Do you want to show me the little hideout you have marked on here? I need to talk to you."

Michael stood up, brushing himself off. "I... I don't intend to be rude, but n-no. It's... private."

He chuckled softly. "That's all right. You don't have to show me." He stepped away and sat down on a rotted tree that had fallen who knows how long ago. "Come here," he said, patting the spot next to him.

Hesitantly, Michael sat down.

"You got really upset with William just now. You know that this is only going to get worse, right?"

Michael watched a beetle climb over long blades of grass as he fidgeted with his thumbs. "I'm sure that it'll be fine. Once school starts up again, I'm sure that everything will go back to normal and it'll be fine."

But it never did. He and William continued to get into huge arguments. William never remember anything that had to do with Michael, either. Cross country meets? Martial arts competitions? Basketball games or soccer games? Nothing. William never showed. He didn't notice when Michael came home with a medal, trophy, ribbon, or certificate. He didn't notice when Michael came home beaten and bloody by the bullies who had only gotten worse because, somehow, that was possible.

To be frank, William never even noticed when Michael came home.

Period.

"Michael!"

Michael squealed and shielded his face with his hands. When he heard TJ scoff, he lowered his hands, offering a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I... I guess that I spaced out. Sorry." He fingered the edge of his sweater's sleeve. "What were we talking about?"

TJ sighed, a deep frown digging into his cheeks. "You know what? I think that it's best if you just go home for the day," he said as he started to put pieces to a board game away back into the game's box. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to kick you out or anything. But you can't focus on anything and it's starting to get on my last nerve. I'm sorry, Mike.

"I'm really sorry. I don't mean to space out, I promise. These last few months have just been... rough."

"What's going on?" TJ asked as he continued to clean up the game. "Maybe you'll feel a little better if you talk about it."

William rarely notices me, and when he does, we only fight.

The bullies are getting worse and worse every day, but the teachers or principal won't do anything to get them to stop.

My grades are slipping because I can't focus in school anymore 'cause I'm constantly afraid of what any of my bullies will do to me.

Beth always needs attention whenever I'm home, which is really distracting and it keeps me from my home, making my grades slip lower.

"Nothing, really," Michael mumbled.

"It couldn't possibly be nothing if it's distracting you this much," Lavender said, standing in the doorway. She turned to TJ. "Dad wants you, Ty."

"All right." TJ slowly stood up, grabbing the game so he could put it away. "Would you help Michael get home, please? He hasn't eaten anything again today, so it'd be best to have someone to keep an eye on him."

"No," Michael said. "I'll be one. I don't need to get on your sister's nerves, too."

"Ty's my brother," Lavender said, chuckling to himself. "Nothing can get on my nerve anymore." She laughed softly as she pushed strands of hair out of her face. "Come on. Let's get ya home."