Daddy Issues (FNAF) *ON HOLD*

Chapter One: Birthday

CW/TW: This story contains subjects of abuse (mental/verbal/physical) and mental trauma.

Birthdays are supposed to be fun. Newly fifteen year old Michael Afton didn't get that luxury. With his twelve year old sister Elizabeth being dead and his father ignoring him, his birthday was treated as any regular day. Usually on his birthday, his little brother Chris, who was five at the time, would come running into his room and jump on him to wake him up. This year, Michael woke up on his own. He crept down the stairs to the kitchen. "Dad! Chris!" He called out. He received no response.
Michael had been bullying and scaring his brother since their sister passed. He would make fun of Chris for his stupid yellow teddy bear, while Michael had his own stuffed animal he loved just as much. He would never let anyone know that. His brother rarely talked to Michael anymore. He was scared of him. Michael just desperately craved his father's affection, and Chris was getting all of it.
He sat down at the kitchen table after toasting a piece of bread. He could only stare at his toast and drum his fingers on the table. He took a few bites of the toast and then tossed it in the trash. In his bedroom, he looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was dark, messy, wavy, and down to his shoulders. The circles underneath his eyes were a dark purple that stood out on his pale skin. His shirt was sleeveless as most of his shirts were. He tucked his shirt into his pale blue jeans and cuffed the bottoms. He grabbed his backpack and jogged down the stairs. He slipped on his shoes and began his walk to school.

After a long day of school, Michael returned home. He kicked his shoes off by the front door. "Dad! I'm home!" He shouted into the empty air. "Right," he sighed, "his car wasn't in the driveway." Michael tossed his backpack onto the couch. He turned over to the kitchen and spotted a note on the fridge. "Was that there earlier?" He snatched the note off the fridge. 'Will be home late, get Chris from school at 6'. Michael tore the note in half and threw it into the trash can. "Asshole." He mumbled. "You never stay late after work. You're only doing this so you don't have to get Chris from school." Michael grumbled as if he were talking to his father.
Just then, the phone rang. Michael groaned and reached for the phone, leaning over the counter. He put the phone against his ear. "Hello." He deadpanned.
"Hey, kid!" The person on the other end answered with a smile in his voice. It was Henry Emily, his father's business partner and best friend. Michael didn't understand why Emily was friends with a person like his father, but he always assumed it was because Emily was so nice. "How are you?"
"Hey, Mr. Emily. I'm fine. My father's not home, if that's who you're looking for."
"I know, Mike, your dad's here with me at the pizzeria. I wanted to talk to you." Emily was as cheery as he usually was. His cheeriness often rubbed off on Michael when he was around him.
"Me? Why?"
"Happy birthday, kiddo." Michael could hear the smile in Emily's voice. This made Michael smile a little himself.
"You remembered my birthday..?"
"Of course I did. Why do you sound surprised?" There was a moment of silence from both ends. Then Emily spoke up. "Oh.. did William forget again?" Michael's smile was gone now. There was another voice on Emily's end. The accent told him that it was his father. "Nothing, Will. I'm just on the phone with Michael." He said away from the phone. "Sorry, kiddo, your dad wanted something."
"Did he wanna talk to me or wish me a happy birthday?" Michael asked with a bit of hope in voice.
"Oh, no. Sorry Michael he didn't say anything about you." Michael sniffled. "Please, don't be upset, kid. How about this? After I get off work, I'll stop by. I got a gift for you and we could get food."
Michael blinked a few times. Don't cry, boys don't cry. "Sure.. but can you get my dad on the phone?"
"Of course. Give me just a moment." Michael heard Emily set the phone on the counter and call his father's name. He was able to make out their conversation.
"What?" His father asked.
"Michael wants to talk to you."
His father sighed and picked up the phone. "What do you want, Michael?"
"Don't you have anything to say to me?" He asked with a slight smile.
"No... what do you want?"
"You don't remember what day it is?" His smile faded.
"Michael, stop playing games. It's not like it's some special day I need to remember."
Michael blinked a few times, trying to stop himself from crying. "It is dad, and you forgot again, for the third year in a row!" He slammed the phone on the receiver. His hands were shaking with rage. He pounded his fist into the counter. "How can you not remember my fucking birthday?" He yelled. "I'm your son!" He felt hot tears sneak down his cheeks. He wiped his tears as fast as he could. "I just want you to remember that I exist!" He kicked the fridge. He swiftly turned on his heel and stomped up the stairs.