That Week At Patches

Chapter 1

Chapter one

Michael held his breath for as long as he could. Hoping and praying the whispers in the dark would cease, and the creaking in the walls would end. It felt as if every time he dreamt, he wound up here, in this empty room, with no door and the nagging feeling that someone was watching him just beyond the solid wall. Someone with something to say. When he found himself in this situation he'd go to the desk across the room, jot down how he was feeling and then return to sleep holding his soft blue teddy bear as tight as he could. That was something his dad had taught him. To write down his thoughts and feelings.

"It's good to get it out on paper, so that it's not all in your head." He'd say.

He could see his breath... it was cold. The air was thin and weak. He could hardly breathe and wanted nothing but to curl up under the blankets and cry himself to sleep. When he was younger, he had his brother to warm him up. They'd curl up together and cling to each other as the scary shadows and noises passed and they were finally able to get to sleep. His brother would cry, and he'd gently stroke his hair and promise him that he'd fight the monsters, no matter how big or how scary. This always calmed him down and they'd both drift off until the sun showed its face through the thin curtains.

Michael had two siblings, a younger brother named Gabriel, and a baby sister named Lizzy. When Gabriel was 7, he went missing. His father spent months desperately trying to find him. He always heard that it was his mother who kidnapped him, but deep down he always knew he was somewhere dead, and sometimes, he could feel him watching him. Lizzy was his baby sister. She also died when she was 5. Their dad took her to the grand opening of a new Pizzeria. It was supposed to be spectacular to see the animatronics in action before the big debut in a few months. But when he peeked in the door, he saw the red pigtailed monster tear his sister to pieces. They tried to pull her out of the contraption, but the more they pulled, the more her body was torn apart. There was blood everywhere.

Now he was an only child, lonely and laying alone in a room with no door. He'd stare up at the ceiling and pretend the wallpaper was a page in a storybook, and with that... he'd drift to sleep. The storybook closing until the next time.

The alarm clock blared, as Michael sprung up out of his bed, similar to the way one would imagine a zombie would spring from their grave. Sunlight poured into his bedroom windows as he turned the alarm clock off and set about getting dressed for the day. He always dressed nice for the young age of 17. He wore a white button up shirt, and black slacks. "Dress for success", he'd say to himself as he combed his overly fluffy hair back. He turned to his desk. The scattered papers didn't contain the note he wrote last night.

"Hmm, it must have been a dream then." He thought to himself.

He stumbled tiredly into the kitchen and made himself a large bowl of cereal. Just as he sat down, he saw his father walk in reading the newspaper and cradling a cup of coffee with his other hand. He always thought it was strange how intently his father read the newspaper. Sometimes he'd see him do the crossword. Other times, he'd see him circle certain words on the pages. He'd go back only to find that they never made sense.

30

Rabbit

War

Mandate

Crew

Sometimes he could piece together a meaning, but today? It made absolutely no sense.

It was summer, and the one place everyone wanted to go to was Patches. It was an arcade, masquerading as a pizzeria that was started as a ruse to make money from all the hit arcade games. The Pizzeria was quite large. They'd set up shop in an old abandoned mattress warehouse that was built over a garbage dump. They'd got the building for dirt cheap many years back. Something about a bad foundation. Just through the front doors and to the right was the arcade. There were a few cabinets in there that he had mastered, and a few he had yet to master. Beyond the arcade area was the safe room. It was a place where someone could be completely safe, but really it was just Uncle Henry's office. Henry wasn't really his uncle, but then again, he didn't have any relatives to speak of. The whole family disowned his father years before he was born. Henry was really all that he had in terms of family, and so he called him the only thing he knew, Uncle. Now, I'm not too sure if Henry liked that or not but that's really beside the point.

Henry never spoke much, but he was an amazing listener. His gentle expression, and caring demeanor drew Michael to him. Michael would tell him about his dreams, and nightmares, and Henry would nod and frown and look Michael in the eyes. It was almost as if he was envisioning the dream in his own mind, mulling it over, analyzing every last detail that came out of Michael's mouth, and then, after a long pause, he'd tell Michael what he thought it all meant. They did this often. After the disappearance of his brother, and the death of his sister, he felt lost. Henry helped him find the way back. He knew he could trust him.

Michael's father on the other hand... he was a quiet man during the day but became a heartless violent brute at night when no one was watching or listening, and it was just him and Michael alone. He knew that his father secretly blamed him for his sister's death. He accepted it that way. There wasn't much else he could do. A few times, when it got particularly bad, Henry would ask him to come over to his house to "babysit the twins". They'd sit in silence for hours watching sports or doing something artistic.

"It's not your fault Michael..." he'd finally say, breaking the bitter silence.

"I know", Michael would reply, unconvincingly.

There was always a sorrow about Henry. As if he'd done something horrible in the past and was desperately trying to make up for it. One day, Henry walked up to him with a gift.

"Open it!" he said eagerly.

Michael carefully unwrapped the box. In the box was a small stuffed bear. He was blue, with beautiful blue glass eyes, and a bright purple ribbon tied around his neck.

"Give him a hug!! Go on!!" Henry said excitedly.

Michael squeezed the bear. It began to move its arms and head to mimic his hug.

"It's going to be ok..." said the bear.

He jumped back, almost dropping the bear. Henry caught it just in time.

"He hugs you back, see?! So, when you feel scared and alone, he can make you feel better."

There was silence as Michael looked into the beautifully crafted glass eyes of the doll.

"His name's Teo" Henry chimed.

"Th... thanks" Michael replied, trying not to cry... the voice sounded familiar, like he'd heard it before in a dream.

Twice a year, he and his father would attend church. They'd sit in the back row, dressed in their Sunday best and listen to the preacher talk about the birth of Jesus, or the Easter resurrection. Sometimes he'd see Henry in the row across from him, and wave. Sometimes, the message would stir a question in his mind.

"What happens when you die?" He'd ask.

"Depends on whether or not you are saved."

Henry would reply...

"Do you think Gabe and Lizzy are in heaven?"

"Of course..." He hesitated to say. Henry knew what question would come after this one, and he dreaded it with every fiber of his being. Michael opened his mouth and the words Henry so feared to hear left his lips.

"Do you think Dad will go to heaven?" he asked.

Henry sighed...

Michael remembered his sigh... it was a sigh of grief. The sigh of knowing where the road someone is taking ends. Little did Henry know, that short, solemn and sorry sigh crushed all the hope in his little heart.

He got in the car with his father. The car door slammed as Mr. Afton got into the Front seat. It was a silent drive to the pizzeria. His father was driving with one hand, and holding his coffee with his other, staring at nothing but the road ahead and completely disregarding the flesh and blood that sat next to him. Michael looked out the window. The warm summer sun shined through the window of the purple company car hitting his face with a familiar glow. The smell of day-old pizza wafted towards his nose. They were almost there... he could feel it.