As he glanced down at his son's sleeping face, William felt his throat tighten. The poor kid, all wrapped up with his eyes closed. The IV in his son's wrist punctured his skin as it injected medications into his veins. William didn't want to cry, but he couldn't take it any longer seeing his son's emotionless face.
It was his tears that kept his soul alive in the crucible of sorrow; the magnitude of his wailing bled an ocean through his eyes.
He sobbed silently beside the bed, never letting go of his son's hand.
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Short FNAF drabbles
HorrorA collection of short 100-200 word drabbles I've written for the series FNAF.
