Michael Afton Diary

Micheal Afton - Part 11

30 May 1984

I'm not trying to brag or anything, but now I can wake up without an alarm clock simply due to my crippling and overwhelming anxiety, so...

Probably another symptom of that strange liquid. The trembling in the legs goes away, and anxiety appears.

It will be hard to feel good with that liquid in my body.

Feeling "good" is just a word since good is just a concept created by human beings, but people give meaning to "good". 

13 June 1984

Headache now.

Uncle Henry already knows that I don't need the crutches anymore and that he doesn't have to worry. Here's the thing: The real problem is that he needs to worry. I have a fluid made of dead children in my body and every day a new symptom appears!

Like, I've had it:

- Adrenaline attack

- Tremor in the legs

- Anxiety

- Closed lung

- Asthma attack when I don't even fucking have it

- Earache

- Loss of strength in the left arm

- And now a hell of a headache!

Just when I think my life can't get any worse, it does!

A lot.

On reflection, I would say that is my karma. Not that I believe in karma, I think it's silly, but it MAY be real and I'm getting mine. Or maybe it's just a silly conspiracy theory like most of these things.

Maybe it's my karma.

Maybe not.

But it doesn't matter.

I deserve that anyway.

21 June 1984

The symptoms... Have they passed? For good? Or have they only stopped temporarily? I have my doubts, but what matters is: that I can relax! I can finally relax!

2 July 1984

Holidays.

My only reason for not enjoying the holidays is that I need to worry about personal problems that I haven't solved.

Or... I can just ignore them.

Yeah, I go for the second option.

4 July 1984

Diary, as I am a great writer, I will describe today in detail because it was fucking hell.

On the bed, is a Foxy mask, on the floor two books and the desk a notebook. That's when I hear William calling me. I ignore him, but as he is insistent, I end up having to go.

William's workshop had animatronics pieces scattered everywhere, one on the floor, one on the table, and more. I never really realized how messy the place was, even more so than my room. Behind a table, William was fixing an endoskeleton arm. And Funtime Foxy was behind him. Next to it, there was a notebook, probably something to write down his experiences.

Seeing me, William smiles. A wicked smile.

"Now, what we have here. My little experiment." He said and gave a laugh "Look, kid, I don't have time for questions, so just listen to me and follow my instructions." He was pretty confident that I would obey. In my mind, I imagined possibilities of what he needed.

"Next to the fridge there is a packet of medicine that I forgot there this morning, bring it to me," He said, I wouldn't obey. He knew that. "And don't even think of disobeying me, after all, the consequences will be yours alone."

I didn't care and disobeyed. I had had enough of that old man and his bossy, manipulative attitude.

2 hours passed, and I spent the whole day reading a book. Amazing, by the way, but the problem is: I was helpless.

Heavy footsteps were approaching. "Michael~" I heard a voice say. I didn't know what it was. I didn't care. 

William opens the door to my room. "Go away" I order.

He doesn't answer, he just stares at me, with his psychopathic smile.

Fear slowly consumes me, that was not William. Heavy footsteps approached, and Funtime Foxy was the causer. Pushing William out, I lock the door.

Before I could breathe a sigh of relief, I notice his voice has changed as he says, "Michael, your daddy wants in~ Daddy won't do anything to his little son~"

Soon after, he stops. He doesn't say anything for hours. The animatronics also quieted down.

I open the door and see William passed out. That was a relief, but as I look in, I notice his hand, purplish.

I have a moment of understanding, the medicine was what stopped him from that. When I was small, he always told me about the unique characteristic that he was born with. His body would turn purple if he felt any strong emotion. The medicine probably helped him with that. I mean, I almost Died because of me?

I called the ambulance, I was alone at home. I didn't want to go to the hospital.

And here I am.

Writing, waiting for him to come back.

 I don't want him around, but I feel I need him. At least for now.