The Fall of the Aftons

112: Michael Afton

Michael jumped backward, startled by Henry's sudden appearance, and ran into the sink behind him. His hands rammed into the end of the sink counter, making him wince when his injured hand practically screamed at him in agony.

"Oh my goodness--Michael, what happened to your hand?" Henry asked worriedly, lifting Michael's hand so he could inspect it.

"Nothing." Michael yanked his arm out of Henry's hold. "I'm fine."

Henry turned to Evan with a suspecting expression. "I assume you know what happened?"

Evan looked at Michael, staring for just a second. "I-I... Um," he stammered. "I-I don't kn-know. Found in his room with his hand bleeding." He winced, then repeated himself correctly, just as he always did when his mouth missed words in a sentence: "I found him in his room with his hand bleeding." He chuckled awkwardly. "I just helped him bandage it up."

Henry eyed the two boys with suspicion, then shrugged and walked out of the bathroom. But he quickly returned to pop his head in and say, "Oh! Forgot to tell you guys that dinner is ready." And he left again.

Michael sighed, relieved, then gave his brother a small smile before he wrapped the young boy in a hug. "Thanks for covering for me," he said appreciatively.

Evan giggled as he returned the hug. "Always happy to help."

~ ~ ~

A pang of guilt penetrated Michael's heart when Mark told him to scare Evan. At first, he resisted, but Mark wouldn't quit. So when he finally complied and tried to scare his little brother, it was his "jumpscare"--as Evan called them--that sent the poor boy over the edge.

Evan burst into tears, stepping away from Michael as far as he could without running into the couch behind him.

Michael desperately wanted to comfort his weeping brother. But, if he did, he didn't know what Mark would do to either him or Evan. So he stayed where he was, zoning out so he didn't have to pay attention to the three boys tormenting his brother.

But he was jolted out of his guilt-induced oblivion when a soft thud rang throughout the room.

"Ow," Evan mumbled, carefully rubbing the back of his head as the three boys laughed at him.

Michael rushed to his brother's side and lifted Evan from the floor, holding the crying boy close as he caringly rested his hand on his brother's head.

"Dude, what the hell are you doing?" Mark grumbled, annoyed. He rested his hand on his hip, enunciating his anger. "Leave the crybaby alone. He just hit his head on the couch leg, he's fine."

"And how did he do that?" Michael practically growled. He ignored the three's quiet chatter as he left to go to the kitchen. He set Evan on the kitchen counter next to the sink, went to the freezer, took out an icepack, and then returned to his brother. He handed Evan the pack. "Here, bud. I'll be right back, okay?"

Evan nodded his head. "Thank you," he mumbled. He wiped his teary eyes and held the pack on his head. 

Michael gave a quick nod before he went back to the living room. Shouting at his friends to "move their bloody asses along," he shoved them all to the front door before he opened it and pushed them outside. "I'll see you at work tomorrow," he told them before he closed the door in their faces.

~ ~ ~

Michael awoke suddenly, immediately sitting up. He was breathing heavily and his throat hurt from screaming as he slept, as always. He was shaking, too--a common aftermath of his nightmares.

It was then that he realized his surroundings were...

Off.

To say the least.