Afton Family Skits [OLD]

Dandelions {Past}

Author's Note~

Warnings:
•
Well, would you look at that. No warnings! This is just a cutesy Afton children story to lighten up the depressing mood from my last few skits. :D

And, yes, yes. The story is inspired by the song "dandelions." I can't help myself! The song has been stuck in my head. But it's nothing romantic or anything, unlike the song. The real connection is the field of dandelions. That's it. That's the only relation to the song.

Elizabeth is two, Evan is seven, and Mike is thirteen.

That's all.

Enjoy! :D

~ ~ ~

P.O.V: Evan

Beth sneezes for, like, the fifteenth time since we've gotten here.

"Bless you," Mike and I say at the same time. We look to each other and start laughing.

"Sih-wee," Beth tells us as she goes back and forth between pointing at me and pointing at Mike. "Sih-wee bwothers!"

Mike stands up and practically throws Beth onto his shoulders. "You're the one who keeps sneezing over and over again!" he exclaims, laughing more.

"Ah-gies, Daddy says," she replies sassily. Then she flicks Mike's forehead.

"Yeah, yeah." He takes Beth off his shoulders and sets her in my lap. Then he sits down and pops open a can of soda. "Do you guys want some? I've got three more cans in my bag."

"Why do you have so much soda?" I ask.

He shrugs. "I normally keep food and drinks in my backpack for my friends if anyone forgets their lunch."

"Or it's left over from the lunches you take to school and never eat," I say.

He shrugs, but I know I'm right. He doesn't eat lunch, not anymore. He hasn't for the longest time.

"I want," Beth says. Technically, she's not allowed to have soda. So Mike'll bring some fruit punch for her. I don't think she's ever realized that he's not giving her any actual soda.

Mike chuckles and rummages through his bag. He pulls out a box of punch, tears open the foil part for her--she won't drink it from a straw--and hands over the box.

"You want some, Ev?" Mike asks me with a smile. Just a small one, but it's sincere.

"No, thank you," I tell him.

He shrugs and takes a long sip of his soda.

I look all around the field we've come to. If Daddy's got a late night, Mike is always in charge. We rarely leave the house anymore--unless we're going to school and Beth is going to daycare--so he always brings us places. To the park down by our house. To Token Gala, an arcade about fifteen minutes away from Fredbear's. But a lot of the times, it's to Mike's own work. He's got a job at the hardware store by the entrance to our neighborhood, and if he's got work that day, he'll take us. The owner never minds. Most of the time, the owner--Mr. Jack Dunn--will let Beth and me play around with the too-close-to-expired paint cans.

There's fluffy white dandelions everywhere. No wonder Beth keeps having sneezing fits--this place is a pollen bomb! Daddy's suspected for a while now that she's allergic to pollen. We get a lot of those yellow flower weeds every spring, and that's when Elizabeth starts to sneeze.

Beth rips a dandelion from the ground, whispers something to it, and blows on it. The seeds fly off and float around as they disperse somewhere in a yard-long radius around her.