Animatronics Awaken

The Bitter Truth

Cheyanne's POV

As Justin walked up the stairs, I couldn't help but stare at him. His steps were faltering, and it seemed like he regretted snapping at me a few seconds ago. However, he didn't come back or even pause to gaze at us, which left me feeling confused and distraught. I turned to the group, perplexed, hoping that someone could provide an explanation for this behavior. At this point, we all knew he was upset, but it was unusual for him to ignore us like that. Justin was an open book about his feelings and if someone asked him, "Are you okay?" he would cave instantly and share what was going on in his mind.

Everybody was eerily silent as if we were holding our breaths in anticipation of what was to come next. Ellie and Raymon exchanged uncertain glances, their faces betraying their disbelief at what had just happened. Justin had left them, and myself, feeling cold and uneasy. It was as if we had never known him at all. Golden Freddy, who again, was normally stoic and composed, appeared to be the most affected by his actions. His eyes were fixed on the staircase where Justin had disappeared from, his expression reading a mix of helplessness and hurt. It was clear that he was struggling to comprehend the gravity of the situation, and the consequences of his mistake were slowly sinking in.

"I'll...I'll go talk to him, I guess," I communicated softly and bounded up the stairs before anyone could get a word in. I stopped directly in front of the closed door to our room. I lifted my fist to knock, hesitated, my face twisting into an uneasy expression, and then banged on the door three times. "Come in," Justin's weak, teary-eyed voice came from inside. That countenance faded as I gradually opened the door, the wood squeaking. Justin was lying on the bed, facing the wall that furthermore had a window on it. He was snuggled with the blankets covering him, his face hidden. I stepped in and took a seat on the opposite side of the bed from him, our backs facing each other. Justin shifted uncomfortably once he felt my presence next to him.

"I think you should come downstairs," I spoke slowly, carefully, so as to not agitate Justin. When he didn't reply, I added, "Golden Freddy and I wanted to tell you and the others something."

"What, that he killed my sister?" Justin cried. He wasn't angry, with me at least. He sounded like he wanted to wither away in those blankets, never to see the light of dawn again or speak to anyone except the voice inside of his head. I sighed but remained muted, afraid that one more word would cause him to turn against me and lash out. After a few tense, awkward moments, Justin said, "There is nothing to talk about. Leave me alone."

Surrendering, I decided to heed his request. I stood up, ready to walk out, but Justin's next words made me halt, my heart picking up its pace. "And you were completely fine with it." He was cold, and emotionless. As if that statement didn't bother him, like he didn't care.

"Actually," I whirled around, irritated, mouth open, ready to defend myself. Irritated that he would assume something like that. I thought he would've seen me as a better person than that. But apparently, he doesn't know me well enough. And I thought I knew him better than to act like this. However, once I saw that Justin hadn't moved an inch from his position on the bed, I immediately calmed down. My tone went from a sharp, unsentimental retort to one of an empathetic, gentle caressed whisper, "Actually...I was furious. I stood up for you and berated Golden Freddy. Until he told me the truth."

For the first time since I entered the room, Justin lifted his head and strained to look back at me. His face was stained with dried tears, which I ignored. "What truth?"

"That's what you'll have to come downstairs for," I cheekily smiled, knowing he'd fold. Justin glared at me with narrowed eyes, skeptical of my statement. He was fully aware of the situation I was forcing him into, nor did he appreciate it. Soon enough, as I expected, he closed his eyes and hung his head. He threw the blanket off of him and sat up with weary eyes. Crossing his arms, he said, "Fine."