[[ i'll never be you. || fnaf oneshot ]]

it's not fair.

"He's just like me. Aren't you, Michael?"

"Pff, it's almost like you're a clone of me. How fun."

"I can't believe how much you look exactly like me, Michael."

Michael Afton hated this.

Those backhanded, useless comments from his father did nothing but drive him mad. He hated it. He hated his father.

He loathed the times where he once wanted to be just like William, to accomplish the same things, to be as great as his dear father. He loathed the times where he admired his father more than anything, when he saw his father as the biggest role model his life has ever known.

He loathed how he still desperately craved attention from his father, desperately just wanted to be loved, for his father to say "I'm proud of you, Mike" at least once-

But it was never going to happen, Michael knew better. And he hated his father for it.

He hated how easily his father could just.. Ignore him. It was like Michael was only there as some sort of trophy for his father. Some sort of prize, something to brag about, only for William to tell him behind closed doors that he wasn't worth bragging about anyways.
Psh.
As if he didn't already know that.

So, Michael Afton stared silently in the mirror, his hands gripping the edges of the sink.

He hated his reflection. He hated it so much. He hated having to remind himself how much he looked like his father, someone he went from adoring to hating in the short span of a few years.

He hated how worthless he felt whenever he had to see himself in the mirror, whenever he had to look at himself and be reminded that he was nothing but a shadow of his bloody father.

Slowly, he felt tears welling up in his eyes as he continued to stare at his reflection.

It wasn't fair. He didn't know how much longer he could do this.

A few tears slipped, falling slowly down his face as he struggled to keep his gaze calm and collected.

He was crying. He shouldn't be crying over this. It was pathetic. If his father was here he knew he would've been scolded for it.

He finally broke, burying his face in his hands as he started to sob into his palms.

None of this was fair. Why him?  What had he done wrong? Was it because he was William's firstborn? Did that make him less than his siblings? What did he do wrong..? He didn't know. He didn't know why it felt like William hated him so much as to put him through this torment. He always tried to be a decent kid. He'd tried his best, really. He looked after his little siblings, even cooked breakfast and dinner for them after their mother had left, he cleaned up the house when he was asked to, he stayed out of William's office, he was trying.
So why was he still the hated child? Why was he his father's least favorite? It didn't make sense. It wasn't fair. He hated this.

Out of sheer despair and anger he swung his fist at the mirror, cracking it into an array of tiny shards, the cracks running through the reflective surface like spiderwebs.

He could still see his haunting (albeit distorted) reflection staring right back at him.

But now, of course, his hand was bleeding, and he was reminded that despite life's unfairness he couldn't escape the consequences of his brief fit of anger. But he didn't care. He just continued to sob, backing up until he was pressed against the wall, before sliding down to the floor and curling himself up into as small of a ball as he could manage.

He felt pathetic. It wasn't fair.

He wished he was never born. Maybe, if he was never born, he wouldn't have gotten in his father's way. Evan and Elizabeth would've had a better life without him to drag their father's mood down constantly. Maybe Father would've been nicer to them if Michael just never existed.

But that wasn't the reality, so Michael Afton remained exactly where he was, curled up into a distraught ball.

The only sounds in the room were Michael's desperate sobs and shudders of agony as he huddled pathetically on the bathroom floor.

He hated this.