SUMMARY : the introductory of the story teller and their repetitive mornings with his siblings
WARNINGS : mentions of suicide, mature language, mentions mental illnesses, descriptive drowning
A/N : This is apart of my series that I haven’t released - and I’m not planning on releasing it because I haven’t finished planning. However, if I am working on the scripts (the same script as the four pages posted on my blog here) and I’m hoping the fnaf fandom revives my motivation!!
Another thing I’d like to add is that this script is setup in a movie format so writing it was a bit weird. I have changed some things. Also, whenever there is an inverted + smaller speech, that indicates thoughts/voice overs. This will make reading it much easier. This is IMPORTANT INFORMATION!!
“ I have spent years of my life struggling against the waves of violence. The brutality would hold me beneath the rough tides. ”
The setting sun shot beams of luminous rays on the ocean. A cone of spotlight peered down on the boy, who was afloat in the endless pool of water. Despite the calmness of the surface, splashing could be heard from beyond him.
“ I would fight continuously, hoping I could overcome the guilt and the pain. I spent years battling with it all. My own stubbornness was a betrayal of many. ”
As the clouds masked the raging sun, he slowly shut his eyes. A hummed prayer echoed through the air, overshadowing the commotion.
“ How come it has taken me years to accept that fighting it would prevent nothing. After all I’ve tried to accomplish when I should’ve been running the other way. ”
Slowly, he started to submerge. The water infiltrated over his face. As the liquid immersed into his ears, the disturbance hushed. All that was left was the peaceful stillness that provided him with an unspoken exhilaration.
“ I won’t let it consume me any longer. I won’t become victim to all the evil in the world. I want silence. I want peace. I want… to drown in it. ”
He opened his eyes, staring up at the rays that danced with the waves of the water. It was beautiful - the silence was beautiful.
His arms remained at his sides as the ocean dragged him further into the abyss. The further he engulfed himself in the blissful embrace, the sensation in his chest grew warmer. He acknowledged the feeling - understanding that he was amicable.
As the water seeped through his nostrils and travelled gradually towards his lungs, his eyes drooped. A satisfied hum reverberated against the water, causing it to ripple.
“ I know… I know… I don’t deserve to go out like this. I should continue to wallow in the shame and allow the torment to persist, I know. If you’ve had the pleasure of knowing me then you would advocate the idea of my suffering. I was blessed with a privileged life and I ruined it: all due to the selfishness I embodied. ”
His eyelids tightened as his fists clenched - his nails inscribed marks into his palms. The atmosphere suddenly shifted, alarming him.
“ I have done some bad things. Terrible, even. Me, Michael. ”
Just as slow as he sunk, Michael opened his eyes. He glared up at what was once a setting sun. The blazing ball of fire had retired behind the murky but billowing clouds: a gloomy environment dawned upon him.
Despite the abrupt transformation, the boy remained composed. His chest rose as darkness crept up behind him. He recognised his approach to the void. It filled him with extreme relief.
“ Is that… who I am? I don’t know who I am—I don’t know who that is, submerging beneath the surface. I used to think I was someone but I would always find myself switching between multiple personalities. I’m not even sure when all of this started and now I’m drowning in obscurity. ”
With every second he spent staring up at the distant domain, he plunged down. Something mutated at the sunlit. Due to Michael’s descent, he wasn’t sure what it was. The liquid slithered down to him - its scarlet pigmentation alarmed him.
“ I have endured the anguish for too long, and if I resurface, it’ll be ongoing. I don’t feel like myself anymore. ”
The boy squirmed in the water, trying to ground himself. Identifying the liquid as blood, he flailed his arms around in a desperate attempt to escape its nearing proximity.
“ I used to believe there would always be a little bit of myself… but my existence withered a long time ago. Years prior to my identity crisis, I wanted to be someone different. I got what I asked for: I am that… monster and I hate it. I am the man I wished I was not. ”
His lips thinned, savouring the remaining oxygen. His hands swatted the blood. The liquid progressed to his hands as if to taunt the boy. His legs kicked against it as he tried to flee its presence.
“ Was this the version of myself I was destined to become or had the harsh consequences that iterated over time moulded me into the man I fear constantly? ”
Michael exclaimed as the blood fused with his skin, the surge of water gained access to pass through his lips. It oozed through his body and lodged his airways. His heart raced as his eyes widened.
“ I wish I could say ‘I used to think’, but in reality, I never thought, I never listened, and I certainly did nothing but cause immense damage. The distress I inflicted was severely effective. The pain was contagious too. I tried to change—I really did but no matter the situation, all that ensued was anguish. It attacked everyone I came in contact with and I… ”
The blood vanished, allowing Michael to breath. His flailing ceased as his eyes travelled to his surroundings. Everything was peaceful again… which felt wrong. Something lingered: Michael only assumed that the eerie silence would result in more violence.
“ I’m still drowning. I’m still caught in the violence of the waves and there is no way out of them. I used to hear a saying when I was younger - ‘Misery loves company’. I never fully understood it until now. I was the misery. I used to seek satisfaction, knowing others were experiencing a miserable life and it hasn’t gotten me anywhere. I’m here, consoled in sorrow and grief. My thoughts are my only company—and let me tell you, they are not kind to me! That is my reasoning for my demise. ”
Suddenly, a pair of hands clasp over the boy’s mouth, hushing him. One of the palms snake over to Michael’s shoulder and applied weight. It was dragging him further down the void.
The boy thrashed against its hold, his screams were muffled under the hands. Michael snatched the wrists and writhed against the grip - the water slowed his movements.
Despite his disadvantage, he was able to free himself from the shackles of his past. Before he could claim victory, a distant shriek frightened Michael. A familiar scream echoed across the ocean, which embedded in his mind - it was a child crying.
After hearing the screams, he jolted up, freeing himself from the nightmare.
Michael launched himself from the pillow, sitting upright in his bed. Sweat poured from his forehead as he gasped for air, as if he had been suffocating himself in his slumber.
The beeping of his alarm had alerted him of his surroundings. Bowing his head, he noticed that his shirt was drenched with sweat.
His eyes wandered around the room as he investigated the same white walls he was entrapped between. He recognised it as his bedroom, which only soothed his nerves.
While Michael steadied his heaving chest, he twisted his body and reached over to the bedside table that housed the blaring alarm. As his eyes adjusted to the dimness that surrounded him, Michael read the red digits: 06:00.
“ But we can discuss that later. ”
Sighing in annoyance, he slammed the button. The clamour was eradicated, and welcomed an unease among the boxed walls.
Refusing to stir in it any longer, he threw the blankets from his body and hauled himself from the bed. His fingers sprawled across his face as he approached one of the bedroom doors, removing the sleep from his eyes.
He swung the door open and stepped through the long hallway. Although he had lived in the house for most of his life, the anticipation of nearing the other room intensified.
Michael gently yanked the double doors open and entered the living room. He was met with the mess from the previous night: coloured pencils were scattered across the floor, crumpled pieces of paper laid beside the trash can as if someone had tossed it across the room in an attempt to score. Empty candy wrappers had been abandoned on the arm of the sofa.
Refusing to waste any time, he began to clean up the remains of yesterday. It was a routine he had indulged himself in: if Michael persisted with the same pattern over and over, his life would stabilise. It was to better himself for his peers—if he strayed from the system, he would slip, and he couldn’t afford to make that mistake. He had siblings who depended on him—a sick mother, who depended on him.
Michael snatched the wrappers from the sofa and headed over to the kitchen. Before he could dispose of them in the trash, his eyes wandered over to the two plates, full of food.
He paused and stared intently at the food. Once the realisation dawned upon him, his face saddened and eyelids drooped.
Swiftly ridding of the candy wrappers, Michael dashed over to the dining room that was attached to the kitchen but separated with an archway. He thieved the plates from the table and emptied its contents in the bin. As he swiped the food from its dish, he rinsed the leftover sauce under the sink.
Grimacing at the unidentified condiment, Michael washed and rinsed the plates. He returned them to their designated spots in the cupboards and returned back to the living room.
Instead of cleaning the rest of the room, he snaked over to the long hallway to his left, which segregated him from his family. He stepped beneath the trimmed doorway and ceased his progression at the first door to his right. The door was open, which refreshed Michael’s memory on why it was constantly open.
He raised his fist and gently knocked on the door and watched the lump under the duvet stir. “Wake up, sleepyhead. I’m making breakfast!” He hollered before continuing down the corridor. The next room, also to the right side of the hall, had forced him to a halt. The girl’s bedroom door was shut, unlike the other. “You too! Get up now or you’ll miss breakfast!” He playfully warned with a knocking of the door.
Hearing movement from beyond the door, a smile crept up on Michael’s face. Every time he accomplished a small task, he would remind himself of the parental responsibility he was unexpectedly gifted and how he was good at it, despite his immaturity at times.
Michael reappeared in the living room. Although he was set with the task of making food, the mess caught his attention. It left him anxious: he knew his mother would repulse the situation. She hated mess. It was a reflection of how put together she was - if the house was in disarray, her mental state would be also.
So, he nabbed the coloured pencils and paper from the floor and carried them over to the tv stand. However, before he could execute the procedure, a pencil had fallen out of his grasp.
Mumbling curses under his breath, Michael heaved the art materials into the cupboard before he kneeled on the ground. He searched for minutes before noticing it had plunged under the sofa.
Sighing, Michael positioned his hands on the carpeted floor as he shifted his body so he could see the underside of the couch. His eyes bore into the semi-darkness. While he hunted for the pencil, something else attracted his attention.
He groaned as he reached for a piece of folded paper. Once he surfaced it, he sat on his knees and attentively stared down at its contents.
It was a family portrait, drawn by a child. Though the family members were drawn as stick figures, they had significant differences between them, which helped to identify themselves.
Michael’s smile grew as he savoured the happiness that radiated from the paper. It was a portrait of his family. Him and his siblings, much like most paintings. His mother had the widest smile, which coerced Michael’s wider.
However, the joy was short-lived. His thumb had covered up the purple stick figure that was shifted to the side. If it was in the illustrator's interest, the mysterious man would’ve been off the page. However, he was a part of the family. Michael understood who it was: it was his father.
The distance between his father and the others was intentional. The double entendre was perceptible, even to a small child.
Michael ripped his eyes from the figure, scared that if he continued his glaring, the paper would burn through. He whipped his head once movement faded in from the hallway.
Unsure what to do, Michael shoved the paper underneath the sofa and shot up from the floor before he was caught snooping.
A false smile plastered itself over his face as two children burst into the living room. Despite their abrupt wakefulness, they lacked enthusiasm.
“Hey,” Michael shifted uncomfortably, wondering if they saw past his nervousness. “So, how did you guys sleep?”
The ginger-haired girl glanced around the room and peered over to the kitchen. She pathetically hunched forward and sighed. “Why do you wake us up if breakfast isn’t served?”
Thankful he had gotten away with his actions, Michael chuckled. His gaze drifted from the girl to the kitchen. “Because breakfast takes a second to make, Elizabeth.” He informed her while he walked over to the other room.
“But I’m not hungry!” Despite her minor complaint, both children followed Michael into the kitchen.
He glanced over his shoulder and watched as they perched themselves on the chairs that bided beside the dining table. “You’ve just woken up. I’m sure you’ll… see the bowl of cereal and feel nothing but hunger!” His spirited demeanour was a ruse to persuade her to eat.
Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders and hummed, unsure whether the logic behind his statement was valid. “Well, you better cook something up before the boredom begins to eat me alive!”
Her exaggeration had forced a small chuckle to flee from Michael’s lips. He nodded his head out of enjoyment from her comment and equally poured cereal between two bowls.
After Michael completed his task, he placed the bowls on the table, before them. Then, he walked around the table and sat opposite from his siblings.
He shifted in his seat and thinned his lips as he stared down at them. His eyes darted between the two, monitoring their movements. They remained still - their heads hung low as they twiddled their thumbs.
“ After everything that happened, it was so hard to talk with them. ”
Michael cleared his throat and forced a wider smile, hoping to grab their attention.
“ They were both so young… so innocent. ”
“So…” His gaze diverted to the wooden table. He nervously sealed his hands along his lap out of uncertainty. “…what are you wanting to do today?”
Elizabeth’s shoulders rose once again before she snatched the spoon from the mound of cereal. “I don’t know… Probably the same as yesterday.” For the first time during their conversation, her eyes met her brother’s. “Watch TV, erm… draw some pictures, and—oh, I was thinking about putting some of mom’s makeup on again!” Her face lit up as she reminisced on the times when she played dress up.
A muscle twitched in Michael’s face as he shook his head, dismissively. “I don’t want you going in her room.”
“No one is going in there, Elizabeth.” The sudden change in tone startled everyone present, especially Michael, himself. “She isn’t well. The only way she’ll get better is if she’s alone and we need her up on her feet, don’t we?”
The girl slouched in her chair as she miserably drifted the spoon against the milk and watched the ripples form. Her ignorance sent an unconvinced sigh to escape Michael’s mouth.
“Don’t we?” His eyes widened as she glared down at Elizabeth. Understanding was a necessity in his eyes. His demanding voice caused Evan’s body to stiffen.
Elizabeth drew her lower lip between her teeth and hesitated. Even though her head hung low, her stare snaked up to the authoritative figure. Allowing her stubbornness to pass, she nodded her head and returned to fiddling with the utensil.
“ I know, I know. I sound cruel, I know! It’s a necessary precaution for their protection. They’ve been exposed to so much loss and ruin but I can prevent that! I can prevent any further damage. ”
Michael’s teeth clamped down on his tongue as he stirred uncomfortably. The awkwardness would linger in the air, lurking around as it awaited for the correct moment to lunge.
The discomfort was terminated once Michael noticed that neither child had touched their food. Sure, Elizabeth was toying with hers but she refused to take a bite.
Michael’s brows furrowed. “Are neither of you still not hungry?” Before they could answer, ideas flooded his brain. “I could make some eggs. Would you like them scrambled, poached, fried—You can have them straight from the box, if you wanted!” He convulsed forward with a laugh, hoping to raise morale. “Take you pick!”
Despite his attempt at boosting their spirits, Evan and Elizabeth shared a look of reluctance. “We don’t like this cereal.” The girl was the one to speak up. She gently shoved the bowl away from her, as if the scent knocked her nauseous.
“What?” He exclaimed, reviving his playful behaviour. “You don’t—” He launched off the chair and nabbed the cereal box from the counter. Once it was in his grasp, he raced back to the table and flaunted it in front of them. “You don’t like the Fruity Pebbles cereal? It…It’s got a photo of Fred Flinstone on it and it’s named after your favourite character!”
His feigned offence entertained the children. Elizabeth’s lips curved into a smile as she vigorously shook her head. “Fred is not my favourite character—Wilma is!” She rose from her chair, she situated herself on her knees so she was eye level with Michael. “She reminds me of mom. Plus, I hate Fred! He is sooo annoying and he is so mean to Wilma! And, like—he isn’t even the best Fred. Have you seen Scooby Doo?” She whipped her head to Evan, hoping for agreement.
“I like Scooby Doo. I like Shaggy and… and Daphne!” Evan began his speech with a hushed tone, afraid that if he was any louder, something bad would occur. “Daphne reminds me of mom too.” His silent giggles assisted in exhibiting the cheerfulness.
“Oh, she does!” Elizabeth gasped. Her hands collided with the table so she could throw herself up. “Can you get Scooby Doo cereal, please? Please, please, please!” She gritted her teeth together in an attempt to contain her excitement.
Michael scrunched his face as he witnessed their abrupt burst of energy. He wished he could savour their elation.
He shot up from the chair, forbidding to look at them while he delivered the bad news. “I don’t think it exists.” He announced, grabbing the cereal box and shook it. He heard nothing but the saddened sound of emptiness. “But I am going to get more groceries before I go to work, so, I’ll make sure to have a look for you.”
“Ugh, if you can’t find it, don’t bother coming back with anything at all!” Elizabeth jested, nestling her back against the chair.
Gazing over his shoulder, Michael bobbed his head, relishing her quick quips. “Well, if you want something—Elizabeth, I want you to write them down on a piece of paper. I’ll take the list with me.”
“Or—and hear me out…” She prepared herself for the idea. The girl pushed herself from the table and slipped into the kitchen. “We come with you—”
“—and that way, I wouldn’t need to write down a list!” She punched the air, content with her proposal.
After Michael set the box on the counter, a hand clasped over his mouth, prohibiting a lecture to flee his mouth. “You know you can’t…” His answer was hesitant - it was the only way to dismiss her idea.
“Why? We never go out anymore and—and… Do you really want to leave two vulnerable kids supervised for the entire day?” She stressed out, overstating her feelings in a way that would leave him remorseful.
“ I hate when she would do that. She knew I hated leaving them alone so she would use it against me. ”
His face softened as he turned to her, allotting all his attention to her. “You’re not here unsupervised. Mum is in the other room. She’s going to take care of you and Evan.” Michael positioned his hand on her shoulder, providing extra comfort.
However, she swatted his hand away and groaned. “Mom hasn’t cared for us in ages, Mike! She hasn’t left her room ever since Daddy left us. She can't take care of herself, never mind us. She’s practically dead—”
“No!” Despite his best efforts to compose himself, Elizabeth’s words infuriated him. “We don’t talk like that, okay?”
Elizabeth fell back, flinching. Evan’s eyes widened. He wanted to withdraw himself from the commotion but paralysis took over.
“We do not say ridiculous things like that about each other! We all grieve, okay?” Although his brows furrowed, his tone softened. “Like when you… when you cried for a week and when… Evan went mute for months and when I had to be there for everyone when he left!”
Once his speech had ended, his eyes bore into the girl. Tears glossed over the sorrow in her eyes and her lip quivered. To restrain the uncontrollable shaking, her teeth sank into her lower lip.
“ My disdain for the monster was severe… but it was nothing compared to seeing my siblings cry. Watching the betrayal slowly expand in their eyes was excruciating. ”
Before Michael could apologise, Elizabeth disappeared into the living room and fled down the hallway. He sighed upon hearing the slamming of her bedroom door.
His hand returned to his face, washing away the remnants of their argument. Overhearing the silent muffles of his anxious brother, Michael stared into the dining room.
Due to the restoration of peace, Evan’s immobilisation wore off. He shyly peered up at his older brother, awaiting for him to instigate the conversation
“Do you want to watch TV?” Was the first thing Michael could think to say. Although Michael wasn’t confident that his suggestion was suitable, Evan perked up and nodded.
They strolled into the living room - Michael switched the television on and flicked over to an applicable channel. Then, he diverted down the long hallway. His eyes drifted over Elizabeth’s closed door. Listening in, Michael was attentive to the saddened whimpers, causing guilt to cloud his features.
“ The reason why tears are streaming down my sister’s face is because of me. I caused her to cry and that kills me. ”
He extended a fist, about to knock on the door. However, he decided against it and continued to amble down the corridor.
“ But she’ll forgive me. As of right now, I have groceries to buy and a job I need to get to. Unfortunately, I am the only one who is supporting the family, emotionally and financially. ”
Michael reached the end of the hallway and was met with a door. He reached for the handle and twisted the doorknob, revealing a dingy bathroom.
He switched the lights on, which illuminated the room. Michael brushed his teeth and leaned down to the sink, throwing cold water over his face. Once he finished his tasks, he ceased the cascade of water and sighed.
His eyes flickered over the cloth that concealed the mirror behind it. He stared at it for a moment, expressionless.
“ I’d prefer if we didn’t talk about that yet. I wouldn’t feel comfortable sharing that with you yet. Be patient with me. I am trying to trust again. ”
Michael left the bathroom and reinstalled himself in the living room. He glanced over at Evan, who was distracted with the cartoons on the screen, and snatched the keys from a stray nightstand.
“If you get hungry while I’m gone, there’s food in the cupboard—but make sure you ask Mum to get you it. I don’t want Elizabeth to climb up on the counter again.” While he concealed his face behind a cap, Michael faced Evan.
The boy’s face went blank. He jumped up from the couch and dashed over to Michael. With a piece of paper in his hand, he flailed his arms, interfering with Michael’s departure from the house.
Evan deposited the paper in Michael’s open palm and rolled on the balls of his heels. He shifted on the spot, anticipating a reaction from his older brother.
Michael unfolded the paper and realised he had made a list. He skimmed over the scribbles, words he couldn’t decipher. “Your handwriting is getting a lot better!” Michael praised him with a wide smile. He stuffed the list into his pocket. “How about you write me a letter for when I get back, huh?”
Evan nodded as a smile slithered on his face. “Can I still watch my show?” He waved his arms and gestured over to the TV.
“Definitely!” Michael bobbed his head up and down. “But I want you sister involved too, okay? I don’t want her say in her room all day.”
“Okay!” He leapt up, hopping due to his contentment.
Michael caught a glimpse of the watch on his wrist and grimaced at the time. “Right, I have to go now if I want to get to work on time.”
The elder brother flashed a quick smile before turning to the front door. Prior to his departure, he saw Evan’s hesitation in his peripheral vision.
“You’re…” Evan cleared his throat and dislodged the nerves from his throat. “You’re not going to leave, are you?
“What?” Michael’s grip loosened on the handle as he spun on his heel.
“Are you…” Evan’s fidgeting worsened as he persisted with his pathetic interrogation. “You’re not leaving forever, are you? I don’t want you to be like Dad.”
Michael stiffened as his pupils dilated. A distressing sensation whirled in his stomach. It was volcanic - Michael was afraid that if he ingested the stress of his siblings, his composed facade would shatter.
“ Look at what you’ve done to them. How can you live with yourself? ”
Instincts kicked in: Michael lowered himself to the ground so he would eyelevel with Evan. “I am not him! And I will never leave you or Elizabeth.” Despite the urge to grab his shoulders to deliver his words with certainty, Michael understood that the contact would scare the boy. “You all need me right now and I am always going to be here for you!”
After a second of convincing, Evan inhaled deeply and nodded his head. Without hesitation, he raised his arms and wrapped them around his brother. Michael returned the embrace and held him firmly.
“ They hate you. They hate you so they hate me. But I am going to show them that I am not you. No matter how much we look alike, I am not the man you are. I am here for my family. Where were you when they needed you most? Why did you run? Where did you run? What is it that you’re running from? Is it the guilt of your past or is it something more than that? Are you afraid? No, surely not. You’ve never been afraid… but you should familiarise yourself with it. That big act of deception and delusion that you’re accustomed to will wither - it won’t endure for much longer. And it surely won’t be long before I find you. ”
