The Fall of the Aftons

013: Michael Song

Michael waited in line. And he waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. He only wanted to be able to play at least one, just one, of the arcade games before he and the rest of the kids from the Center left. Thankfully, his almost-endless patience was starting to pay off. He was the next kid in line now, and by the looks of it, the kid in front of him was messing up. "Aw, man," the kid playing the game whined. The kid turned around, and Michael recognized him. It was Terry, William's nephew.

"Terry!" Michael exclaimed excitedly.

Terry looked at him, smiling. "Heya, Mike, how're ya doing?" he asked.

 Michael smiled.

"That's good. Do you have some money to play the games?" 

Michael nodded his head, stuck his hand in his jacket pocket, and held out five quarters. Terry smiled and gave him a thumbs-up before he walked away. He shoved all his coins, except for one, back into his pocket and hobbled up to the game. But just as he bent down to put the quarter in the coin slot, somebody shoved him aside. He fell to the ground and landed hard on his back, all of the air in his lungs rushing out of him like a deflated balloon. The quarter popped out of his hand and rolled out of his reach. Luckily, though, Fredbear was still in his hand. He slowly sat up and reached for his crutches, but a pair of mismatched sneakers kicked them out of his reach. He looked up to find three older boys with wry and mischievous looks. Dennis, the redhead with a bazillion freckles. Kyle, the pale blonde-haired one with pine green eyes. Jonathan, the brown-haired one with red tips and spoke both English and Spanish--the one who taught Felicity how to speak Spanish when she was two years old.

"If you know what's best for you, Song, you'll stay down," Dennis threatened, his smile cruel and threatening. He bent down and flicked Mike's forehead with his sharp fingernail.

Michael whimpered against his will as he hugged Fredbear close to his chest, swallowing his shout for help. Normally he'd stand up for himself, but now that Khael was gone, he'd lost most of his confidence. It also didn't help that he couldn't even physically stand up without the help of his crutches or someone else.

"What was that for?!" someone's loud voice shouted from behind him. Felicity stepped forward in front of him, her arm extended in a protective manner. "He was just trying to do was play el juego! There was no reason to disturb him."

"How is this worthless kid going to play an arcade game when he can't even stand up without help?" Kyle mocked. The three boys cackled as Michael's face burned with embarrassment.

"He can stand just fine!" she countered as she took Michael's arm up and around her shoulders, helping him from the ground. "But as of right now, he has a broken leg. All the more reason to be nice to him! Ahora pick up his crutches."

The three boys didn't follow her command. Instead, they just walked away as they gossiped about nothing of importance. But Michael was glad for them to be gone. For now, at least. He had no doubt they'd come and torment him during the night. He'd gladly take any break from their rude, hateful behavior that was directed at him simply because he was new and wasn't able to help save his twin from a serial killer. Seriously, what did they expect of him? He was three years old! How was he going to save his brother from an adult that towered above him?

"I'm going to help you down so I can grab your crutches for you, all right?" Felicity told him as she guided Michael down to the floor. He didn't resist. She went and grabbed his crutches, then returned shortly after. "¿Estàs bien?" she asked when he stood up.

Michael nodded his head, looking at the plush in his arms.