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FNAF Fanfiction (Based on my fantheories) [Incomplete]

By @DoodleCat1038

-Part One-Chapter One

Elizabeth’s father worked in his workshop in their garage every day. She would always try to talk to him, but he either ignored her or shooed her off. 

The family was a mess to begin with. Her older brother, Micheal, was always terrorizing Chris, her younger brother. Mike always called him “Weak.” and “Pathetic.” and sometimes even “Crybaby.” Elizabeth had to agree with those, but she wasn’t mean and didn’t dare join the everyday teasing and bullying. Their mother was a subject that their father never talked about. In fact, he hardly spoke to them at all. The times he did, he was never happy. 

When she wasn’t at school, Elizabeth spent her time in her room, either studying, reading, or drawing like now. As she drew, pondering these thoughts, she could hear her brothers in the living room, which was right outside of hers. There was a high scream, followed by low laughter. Sounds like Mike is being a jerk to Chris again. Elizabeth thought. The scream turned into loud crying. Giving a frustrated sigh, Elizabeth hopped off her pink bed and walked across the room to shut her door. The sounds of her brothers were muffled now, but still there. 

She hated the way Mike treated Chris, and she confronted him once about it. “Stay outta this Liz, unless you wanna join ‘em.” Mike had warned her. She didn’t want to be a part of that. She tried telling their father, but not looking up from his work, he simply had said, “They are brothers, they’ll rough house now and then. It’s just their way of playing.” Well, Elizabeth didn’t think they were “playing.” at all. 

As she got back onto her bed, her sketchbook in front of her, she heard a sudden angry yell that made her shiver. “You better keep it down!” Their father’s angry shout seemed to ignore the sound barrier that the door created and vibrate through the room. He only ever yelled if was extremely angry. It was dead silent throughout the house now. 

Sighing a sad sigh, Elizabeth continued to draw. Her crayon silently stroked the paper, making colorful streaks wherever she moved it. When she had finally finished it, she held it up in front of her and smiled. It was a drawing of her family, or rather, the one she wished she had. 

She had drawn Chris with a smile, Mike hugging him, laughing with a good purpose for once. If only he could act that way in real life. She had drawn herself holding her father’s hand, a big smile on her face. Their father was happy just like everyone else in the drawing. If only he’d cared and noticed our existence like a real father. Then her mother, or what Elizabeth imagined her to look like. Same light ginger hair as hers. Same green eyes. And standing beside her father. 

There was only one time their father had talked about their mother. “She was beautiful, and the nicest person I ever met. She brought happiness to whomever she talked to. Clara was amazing, her voice and singing would make anyone stop in their tracks and listen. Her dancing was just as spectacular. But things changed. Before I knew what was happening, she was gone.” Those words, Elizabeth swore to herself she wouldn’t forget. When their father had said their mother was gone, Elizabeth hoped it didn’t mean she’d died. I wish I could’ve met her. If she were here, our family would be happy and caring, and most of all, whole. 

Then, she had a sudden urge to rush to her father’s workshop in the garage and show him the drawing. Maybe it’ll remind him of how our family is supposed to look and he’ll change. Elizabeth had her doubts, but the least she could do was try. Elizabeth, drawing in her right hand, got off her bed and made her way out of her room and to the garage where she knew her father would be working. 

The door was open a crack, so Elizabeth peeked inside. There he was, at his usual messy desk. Her father was building what looked like a robotic arm. There were random screws and tiny pieces of metal scattered on the desk and the floor around it. 

“Daddy,” Elizabeth said excitedly. Her father paid no attention to her. “Daddy,” Elizabeth repeated a bit louder. She went to stand beside his desk and held up the drawing. “Daddy look! I drew all of us! As a family together and-” Her father looked at her with an angry look that made her stop talking. Elizabeth dropped the drawing and it slowly fell to the floor. She bent down to pick it up but it had dropped right near her father’s shoe, which he moved purposely onto the paper. Elizabeth pulled at it, but it wouldn’t budge. 

“Leave.” Her father said. “B-but my drawing!” Elizabeth protested. “Now!” He said, voice rising. Tears in her eyes, Elizabeth continued her struggle for the paper. Then her father pushed her. She fell onto the floor hard. She scrambled to her feet and not glancing back, rushed out of the room and to her own, slamming her door behind her and collapsing on her bed in tears.

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