Temporary Friends (A FNAF Story)

38: sammy emily

CW// graphic description of death
also sorry this one is so long, i got really caught up in the story. for reference, it has about 5635 words (not counting these)

william pov

~ flashback ~

i parked my car and tapped my fingers on the steering wheel. my wife and youngest kids were inside. i turned to look at my oldest, who was staring out of the window. he had his arm propped up on the side console, and his hand was pressed against his chin. he had a bruise around his wrist, as well as on his hand and under his lip. i did that to him.

"well, come on now. we haven't all day, michael." i opened the door and got out.  michael just glared outside. i walked to the other issue of the car and opened the door.

"get out of the car." i gritted my teeth. michaels arm fell when i opened the door and he just moved it to his lap. he didn't answer me still.

"michael. you're 12. stop actin' like a child."

"fuck you." he spat. without even thinking, i reached over and undid his seatbelt. i yanked him out of the car and threw him onto the concrete. he broke his fall by throwing his hands down at his sides. that scrapped his hands up pretty badly, however.

"don' speak to me that way, boy." i spat. michael just glared at me.

"yes, fatha." michael stood up and brushed the dirt off of his clothes.

"put on your gloves and jacket." i pointed to the purple leather jacket and black fingerless gloves.

"why?" he asked.

"cus i fuckin' said so. also, the bruises." i glared at him. he glared back but reached into the car and got his gloves and jacket. we walked inside after he put them on and i went into my office.

"hey, will." henry smiled when i walked in.

"hello, hen." i smiled back, sitting down at my desk

"how did you sleep?" henry asked

"good, good. dreamt of you." i chuckled.  henry smiled and put his hand on top of mine.

"that's cheesy." henry laughed.

"i said much cheesier shit to you in high school." i smiled softly. henry laughed again.

"you're right." he squeezed my hand softly

-

after a long day of paperwork and talking to henry, i was driving home. it was late now, about 8:30 pm. michael was still in the passenger seat, solemnly staring out of the window with his chin in his hand. elizabeth on the other hand was in the backseat, just have a grand time pointing out things on the road. when we got home, michael ran to his room and closed the door. elizabeth skipped up the stairs happily and walked into her room. clara was in the living room, reading evan a book.

"ello, clara." i leaned on the door frame that led into the living room. clara waved at me but continued to read to evan without looking up at me. he seemed very interested in the story about a caterpillar who required something to eat that was being read to him by his mother. i walked upstairs and looked at michaels door. it had a "do not enter" street sign on it. i haven't a clue where he got it, but he did. probably stole it, that fuckin wanker. i knocked and opened the door and he was just laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. there were socks, shoes, t shirts, jeans, jackets, jean jackets, and a bunch of water bottles and soda cans all on the floor.