Beast of Burden

Sweet Child O' Mine

TW// child death, abuse, violence

It was 6:08 when Mike snuck through the front door without a sound. He noticed that the family car was not in the driveway, but maybe it was in the garage. When he walked in, a cold, dark atmosphere filled the room. It was unusually quiet and sterile in the family living room. His father was on the phone in a hushed tone in the kitchen. Something was wrong, but he didn't want to stick around to find out. He quietly placed the keys on the rack and began his stealthy attempt up the staircase to his room.

"Oh, Michael?"

He stopped in his tracks and exhaled. His father had heard him. It seemed like he couldn't get anything past him.

"Yes, father?"

"Just where have you been?" His voice was eerily calm.

"At the police station," Michael answered nervously, "Like you asked me."

His father placed the phone down methodically then marched to his son as a predator to prey. He towered over his son threateningly and locked eyes.

"That you were supposed to be back from thirty minutes ago," He snarled. He inhaled sharply and his expression darkened even more. Mike gasped as his father clutched his shirt and held him up roughly, shouting in his face, "I smell the cigarettes on you, Michael. Don't lie to me."

Mike whimpered, "I was there, okay? I mean, I was at the station... sir. I was running late. I swear, father, I went."

His father let go of him and tried to maintain composure. His voice was low and broken, ragged like a knife.

"What have they discovered? Any evidence?"

Mike shook his head frantically, "No, none. I kept them distracted. They haven't even been to the diner yet."

His father rubbed his temples in stress, "Good, good. Keep things that way. They cannot find out about the sister location."

"The one you just opened today," Mike asked innocently, "Why?"

His father's eyes were dangerously cold, his expression was enough to send chills down Mike's spine.

"They cannot find out!" He insisted angrily, "We must keep this all hushed. Understand?"

Mike was unsure why he was so adamant about this, but he nodded nonetheless, "Of course, father."

"And the animatronics," He mumbled mournfully, "Keep away from them, understand, Michael? You and your brother must stay away from them. I don't want to see any of you near them in our restaurants."

Mike was extremely unnerved by all of his panicked ranting and raving. The quiet eeriness of the house, his father's delirium, all of it left a deep sense of disturbance within him.

"Just me and my brother, huh?" He whispered curiously, "You think I'm scared by some glorified teddy bear?"

His father snapped and slammed his palms down on the table. Mike flinched.

"Go to your room!" He growled, "Leave me be! You insolent brat!"

As he raced up the stairs, Mike's heart trembled. Usually, if he stuck around much longer, things got violent. He didn't want to take the risk anymore. Before, his stubbornness and bold nature got him in many conflicts with his father. He had learned his lesson. Whatever was wrong with his family he would find out soon enough. Might as well not drive his father into even more madness.

Mike lay in a haze on his bed, unmoving and unthinking. He turned on the new record he got. The music was pretty hardcore, he could barely imagine Jackie listening to it. The two images didn't match at all. The music was loud and angry and blocked everything out, and yet it didn't fill up the abyss in his stomach that was gnawing at him. There was something wrong with his family. Namely, his sister. His mother, brother, and sister weren't home. His father was acting strange... well, stranger than usual. And he refused to mention her name. As much as Mike wanted to block out the world, his mind wouldn't allow him.