The Fall of the Aftons

023: Michael Song

"Woah, Felicity! You're so good at this!" Michael exclaimed amusedly as he watched her play her favorite arcade game.

Felicity nodded her head in response--a quick, subtle movement that was enough to respond but not enough to distract her from her game. She was getting close to beating a level that she claimed she'd been stuck on for weeks.

Michael turned and looked behind him, trying to spot Noah. He was still where he'd been for the past ten minutes, still being scolded at by his father. Michael could see that he was on the verge of tears. He wondered what Mr. Wright was saying to his friend. Something bad if Noah looked like he was about to cry.

Michael heard a familiar voice say his name and he quickly turned around. "William!" he exclaimed excitedly before running over to the kind man who'd saved him and hugging him around the legs.

"Hey, buddy. How are you?" William asked kindly as he pried Michael off of him before he sat down. He mussed Michael's hair, making Mike giggle.

"Good!" he responded. "I got my cast off," he said, kicking out his previously-injured leg, "and I made a new friend!" He turned to look back at Noah, but his friend and Mr. Wright were gone.

"Is something wrong?" William asked when Michael started to squirm with worry.

"My friend is gone," he muttered, not turning to face William. "He was right there with his dad." He pointed to where the two had been.

"Oh, the Wrights? Those two left a few moments ago. The boy didn't seem very happy to leave," Henry said, who was standing behind William.

Without realizing it at first, Michael took off towards the front doors. He burst out of the restaurant, greeted by unusual noises. He heard screaming, so he instantly turned to the sound. And there they were. Noah's wrist was gripped tightly in his father's hand. Mr. Wright was holding Noah away from him, a few inches above the ground. Noah was the one screaming, crying harshly as his father yelled at him.

"Michael, what in the world are you doing?" William shouted, running through the doors with Felicity and Henry trailing after him. 

Michael didn't answer. He ran the medium-length distance to Noah's side and screamed, "Stop!" Mr. Wright scowled at him, but the tall man didn't let go of Noah, who was still screaming as he used his free hand to try to peel his father's fingers from his wrist. Then Mr. Wright turned back to Noah and yelled more. Noah's screams grew louder. Michael noticed that Mr. Wright's grip had gotten even tighter, to the point where his brown knuckles were nearly solid white.

"Stop it, you're hurting him!" Michael screamed.

Noah stopped screaming altogether, letting his dangling body go limp. The man glared coldly at Michael. But he held his ground, standing as straight as he could, showing no sign of any emotion other than determination. The man glared at Noah, then at Michael again as he finally dropped the boy. Noah fell to the ground on his bottom and scooted away as the man purposely ran into William's shoulder as he stormed off. William, Henry, and Felicity quickly joined them.

"Are you okay?" Michael asked quietly, dropping to the cold ground next to Noah. He wrapped his friend in a tight hug. "How bad did he hurt you?"

Noah whimpered and used his sleeved arm to wipe his eyes, then held out his wrist. It was a bright shade of red, and it was stained with black and blue bruises. It looked painful.

"Are you two okay?" Henry asked as he latched himself onto William's muscle-y arm. 

Michael answered, "No," as Noah answered, "Yes."

"You're not okay!" Michael exclaimed, standing up before gently helping Noah off of the ground. "If I were to touch your wrist, would it hurt?"

Noah shook his head. Let's see that, then, Michael decided as he quickly reached out his arm to lightly touch his friend's injured wrist. But Noah was faster, whipping his hand back before Michael even had the chance to succeed.

William kneeled in front of Noah. "Does your dad do that often?"

Noah shook his head so hard that it looked like it hurt.

"Then what was that?" Henry asked, resting his hand on William's shoulder.

The boy held his wrist to his chest and looked away. "I disappointed him, which made him angry. The week has been rough--I should've known better than to do what I did." He inhaled a sharp, shaky breath as he turned towards everyone. "Are dads not supposed to discipline their kids like that when they're really angry?"

"Well, yes. Yes, they are. But not in that way," Henry muttered. William stood and rubbed his friend's back in a caring, sympathetic manner. The two made eye contact, their expressions changing as they seemed to have a telepathic conversation.

"Oh," Noah said, disappointed.