Don't stick my nose in places I don't belong, huh? Be a normal kid? I've only been around for, what? A week? And you expect me to NOT be curious about the past I seem to have completely forgotten? I even feel the need to know about little things, like for one, how I got all these bruises.

I waited until I heard the front door open and close again before leaving my room and going to the bathroom down the hall. One of the only things that have me convinced that I am an actual person is that I still need to eat. Which I guess means I still have normal human functions. So I've been in the bathroom a lot, but I've never bothered to look at myself in the mirror. Maybe a glance here and there, but I haven't thoroughly studied myself. I knew what my brother and parents looked like, so I just assumed I looked similar. And I saw myself in the picture, but that was a few years ago...

I hopped up onto the sink and looked into the mirror. I almost leaped back when I saw how strikingly similar I looked to Terry. Same nose, eyes... Speaking of my eyes, they were a dark blue, almost purple. Everyone said they used to be brown.

Another difference from the picture was that my face looked slightly more defined. Like I was older.

My attention turned from my looks to the big red mark on my cheek. I pressed against it with my palm, but the pain made me wince. It didn't look all bad. Neither did the ones on my arms. I took off my shirt and felt around for the spot on my ribs where it had hurt before, but there was just a small thin bruise. Maybe it was Chica who caused this. I wasn't sure what happened after I passed out, just that I woke up back in my room.

I caught myself looking deeper into the mirror, into my own eyes, like I was looking for something. They looked pretty mechanical. It might've just been me, but it looked like there were gears or something making up the pattern of my irises.

I hopped down from the sink and put my shirt back on. I guess these bruises will just have to heal. If they can, that is.

Assuming Dad had gone back to work and Mom had locked herself in her own room, I decided to look around the house. The only time I ever leave my room is for meals, so I'm not familiar with most of the house. There was the one time I toured myself through, but I've forgotten some places.

I found myself in the kitchen, not the dining room where I usually go, but the kitchen, which is a room over. I hadn't been in the kitchen for a minute before deciding I already liked it in here.

The room was dimly lit, but there were some lights strung along the counters and cabinets. Everything was neatly organized in some kind of drawer, and there were pictures on the refrigerator. I went to go get a closer look at them, and saw that they were more pictures of my family.

Some baby pictures, a really old photo of what looked like Mom and Dad when they were younger, and a cluster of pictures of Liz and I. I wasn't really surprised with this. Liz was actually dead, and I... must've been at one point. The kitchen must be another room of Mom's.

I opened the fridge and saw that even the contents on the shelves were organized in a way.

"Michael, what are you doing in here?"

I must've left the door open, or didn't hear Mom open it, but she saw me and quickly rushed to close the refrigerator door and pull me out of the kitchen.

"How many times have I told you to stay out of there?" She asked sternly.

"Um... none?" I replied.

"Yes, I forgot, no memory..." Mom muttered to herself. "But stay out of the kitchen, okay? I'm in there all the time making food and don't want anything to get messed up."

"Okay."

"So just go back to your room and I'll call you for dinner."

"Okay."

"Come to think of it, you never ate lunch, did you?"

"Did I not?" I asked. I probably didn't. I just remember breakfast, going to Freddy's, then waking up at home.

"Yeah, it's been a few hours. Your Dad didn't want me to leave you at home alone, well, alone with me, and come to think of it, what's going on right now? But do you want some lunch? Or anything? I'm making dinner in a couple hours or so, anyway."

"Yeah, I'll have something," I responded.

"Okay," Mom said, her expression softening somewhat. "You wait at the table for five minutes, alright?"

"Okay."

"Thank you." And Mom left to the kitchen, shutting the door behind her.

Sitting at the table, I thought for a minute about how this was one of the first times Mom was ever explicitly nice to me. When I woke up, she seemed to resent me to a degree and sometimes wouldn't even make eye contact, but she must be accepting the fact that I'm not dead, at least anymore, and can just move on with her life.

"Okay, I'm back," Mom said, entering the dining room with a couple plates. "Sorry, I just didn't bother to wake you up." A plate with some fruit, chips, and half a sandwich was placed in front of me. Mom sat down with her plate, the other half of the sandwich and some fruit.

"Thanks," I said.

"Of course," Mom assured. "It's... my job." With that, she sighed and her eyes fell elsewhere. She always seemed like she was stuck in her own head sometimes.

We sat and ate quietly, much like most of the time.

"God, this is so weird," Mom laughed.

"What is?"

"Oh, just having you... kind of back. But then again, you were still always at school, and we never really all ate together at lunch, except on weekends." Mom's laugh that sounded a little forced fell off. "But sometimes it was just me and you and Liz, then... just you. And then it was just me." After a second of silence, Mom laughed again. "Well, that'll happen sometimes if your husband owns a restaurant. Uhg. And then his co-founder goes and commits... Sorry. You didn't need to know that."

"It's fine," I said. "Why was Terry always gone, then?"

"Oh, just his... friends," Mom sighed. "He'd go out with them a lot. They were... interesting people. Heh. They were involved with... you getting killed. I'm not sure how well the group has held together after that. I think one of their sisters was one of the kids killed at Freddy's? I'm not sure. I wonder how they're doing. I sometimes liked those kids." This was one of those times Mom seemed to be stuck in her own head. I think she was just talking to herself at this point

"Who were his friends?" I asked.

"Just some kids... he'd known a few of them for a while." Mom was quiet for a second. "He should be coming home from school soon."

Almost on cue, the front door swung open.

"Oh, so he gets food after school and I don't?" Was the first thing Terry said.

"He didn't eat lunch," Mom said. "He passed out earlier this morning, and I didn't bother to wake him up."

"Oh," Terry sighed. "What happened?"

"I'm not sure, but your father told me that Michael was at Freddy's, and all the robots broke again, and one must've hit him on the head." That wasn't exactly true. I'm not sure why I passed out, but I don't think anything hit me on the head.

"Wait, how'd you get to Freddy's?" Terry asked.

"Through your window..." I muttered.

"Huh?"

"My window was sealed so I left through yours."

"Oh. Whatever." Terry leaves down the hall to his room, leaving just Mom and I again.

"How old am I?" I asked. Mom wasn't paying attention, so I had to ask again.

"Oh!" She cried when I repeated myself. "You're eleven. You're going to be twelve in August. You brother is... almost 18. Oh, God, where did the time go?" Mom laughed. I figured she also had a habit of trying to lighten a reasonably serious mood.

"Hm."

"Are you two getting along all right?" Mom asked. I nodded. "Oh, that's good. You two would fight so much. I never wanted to leave you two alone when your dad and I went out. Liz mellowed you out a bit..." All of our food was gone, but we still stayed at the table, talking.

"I really don't have any idea why Dad couldn't bring Liz back to life as well. It happened with you, I don't really know why. I always figured he loved Liz the most. If anyone, wouldn't have he brought her back to life? Then again..." Mom glanced at me with dejected eyes. "I really don't even think you're alive sometimes." She was quiet. I had wanted to say something, but before I could, Mom took my empty plate and retreated to the kitchen. She shut the door behind her, and didn't come back out.

Now it's just me.

I went back to my own room and laid back down in bed. That was... nice. Spending time with Mom like that. She had been absentmindedly telling me things about the past, like that Terry and I would fight a lot. He said he was pranking me when he threw me into Fredbear's mouth, but Mom said there was more than that. Did Terry rip the head of the plush in the closet?

I went to get it and brought it to Terry's room, and knocked on the door.

"What?" He asked.

"Did you do this?" I asked, holding up the plush. Terry raised an eyebrow.

"No, that was you. You were scared of Foxy after I'd always scare you with the mask, and you ripped the head off and threw it in the closet."

"Can I see it?"

"Huh?"

"The mask. Can I see it?"

"Oh, ha," Terry laughed. "I tossed that after you died. Sorry. I also don't know what happened to the head." And he shut the door on me. Well, that was one more thing I knew.

Back in my room, I looked around for the head, but couldn't find it anywhere. I did find one more plush under the bed, though. It was a yellow Freddy with a purple bowtie and tophat. I pulled it out and set it and Foxy on top of my bed with all the rest.

"Now you're all together," I said to them. "Sorry, I can't find Foxy's head. I'll keep looking." I went and looked deeper into the closet, but there was nothing else there. I thought about asking Terry again, but he didn't seem like he cared. Then it came to me.

Liz's room. I haven't seen it yet. Maybe it's there.

I found it, it was one room I didn't bother to look deeper into. I quietly opened and closed the door, and allowed myself to look around.

The room reminded me of the kitchen, but less alive. All the lights strung across the walls were off. All the lights were off. Even the blinds were drawn. And under them, the shutters down, and the window- it wasn't sealed! This came as a shock to me, but only because my room was the only one with a sealed window.

I threw the window the rest of the way open, sending in a gust of wind that blew dust everywhere. It was almost pretty, the way the sun mixed in with the dust particles. Then again, it was just another mess to clean.

Now that the room was better lit, I did a quick sweep of the room. A bed, a dresser, a desk. And a mangled pile of some toy on the floor. Curious, I walked over and picked up what I thought must've been the head.

"Hey, be careful!"

I dropped the head upon hearing the voice that scolded me when I picked it up. Were they in the toy? The voice sounded familiar.

"Michael, what are you doing in here?"

"Uh, looking for-"

"Get out before someone finds you! I'm sorry, but Daddy doesn't want anyone to be in here! I thought you knew that!"

I wanted to shout that I had amnesia, but the fact that she said 'daddy' made me think we shared a father. Wait.

"Elizabeth?" I cried happily.

"Get out!" She shouted again. I did what she said, as well as retreating to my own room before anyone saw me. I realized just then that I forgot to close the windows, but I don't think anyone would mind. No one is allowed in.