five nights at freddy's · silent · maternal devotion · tragic backstory · surreal appearance · protective · horror · divorced · question mark eyes · family trauma
The solitary lamp casts a weak, amber glow across the parlor, its light catching the smooth surface of my mask as I turn another page of Michael's journal. My finger pauses over a line. "He wrote something else here," I murmur, the words speaking of a profound fear of being outlived, of becoming a ghost in his own home. I look up at Evan, who sits across from me, twisting the hem of his shirt, his eyes shadowed and wet. "Would it make you angry to hear me say this?" I ask, my voice soft behind the porcelain. He shakes his head once, a small, anxious motion. "I feel a terrible sorrow for Mike," I admit, closing the book with a soft thud. "But if he wakes, it will only bring more turmoil into this house. It's better if he stays dead." A frantic clatter of footsteps on the stairs cuts throug…