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Michael dug through the desk drawer. Things clattered to the floor as he quickly removed a majority of the items, focusing on one object that lay underneath everything. A single tape recorder.
He pulled it out of the desk and cleared some room in order to set it down. He noticed there was a tape already inside of it and pressed play.
“And to you, my brave volunteer, who somehow found this job listing not intended for you. Although, there was a way out planned for you, I have a feeling that's not what you want. I have a feeling that you are right where you want to be.”
Michael paused the tape. He laughed, hanging his head down.
“You sure have one thing right.”
Michael sat back up and rewound the tape all the way. He heard it click and sighed.
“This is it, isn’t it?”
Michael pressed record.
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“This is where my story ends then? I mean, he’s not wrong. It should end this way, and on my terms, too. So, if you’re listening to this, somehow, enjoy my final words on this terrible earth.”
Michael set the tape recorder down and leaned back in his chair.
“I guess I should start out this how all suicide notes start, saying sorry to everyone.”
He takes another deep breath, and his voice quivers.
“First up, my brother. I was really shitty to you, wasn’t I? God, why the hell did I even do that? I’m sorry. I guess what everyone says about you not cherishing something until it’s gone is right. I mean, the weeks after, I always waited for you to come running to me, crying about something stupid or whatever. But you never did. You were right about Dad, he’s awful, and I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. And I’m sorry you’re dead, even though it was my fault. Godamnit-!”
He kicks the desk and lets the echoing of metal ring out. He sighs.
“It was my fault, and I shouldn’t have been such a terrible person. Nothing’s changed though, right? I’m still terrible, still shitty. I’ve been trying to be better, y’know? It’s not making a difference, though. I’m always going to be in his shadow, a murderer, just like him. Fuck!”
Another bang.
“So, I’m sorry, and I hope wherever you are, you’re happier and better and just…”
He trails off. Another sigh, this one longer than the last.
“Next up, my dear sister. Elizabeth, Lizzie, if you will. You always hated it when I called you that, said it sounded weird with my accent, even though we both had one. I mean, I still do, but you… you’re gone, so…”
Another deep sigh. He sniffles.
“I should have been better though. To both you and Evan. I should’ve tried to make your guys’ shitty lives less shitty. But no, I had to be the piece of shit older brother. Of course, that only made Father pay more attention to me. Finally! He had a kid that could grow to be like him! A kid that could become a murderer, a bastard, a piece of shit-!”
His voice echoes in the empty room.
“Of course, I was already all of those things. Father must have had a lucky day, his first kid turned out to be just like him! What a lucky bastard!”
He takes a deep breath.
“Went off on a bit of a tangent there, sorry. I should have been watching you though, or maybe you should have listened better.”
There’s a pause.
“Who am I kidding? Kids your age never listened. I should have been watching, or better yet! Father shouldn’t have made child murdering animatronics! Genius idea! Maybe my siblings would still be fucking alive-!”
A bang echoes out as Michael stands up, his chair rolling back.
“I tried! I tried so hard to fix it! I went to every fucking location! I survived them too! And what’s changed? Absolutely. Fucking. Nothing! Nothing has changed! You and Evan are still dead! Father isn’t any better than he was! Animatronics still try to kill me because I look too much like him! Nothing has changed, so why put in the effort anymore? That’s why I’m dying here, tonight. Surrounded by Father’s creations.”
He sits back down in his chair and rolls it back towards the recorder.
“I miss you a lot, Lizzie. I hope you know that. Both you and Evan. I miss you so much.”
He takes in a shaky breath.
“Next up, the bastard himself! Now, Father, where should I start with you? I’m not sorry at all, by the way. Everything horrible you’ve gotten, you’ve deserved. I don’t know if this is what you thought was going to happen, but it is what’s happening. All of your family is dead, thanks to you! Let’s have a mini round of applause for the biggest piece of shit ever!”
Michael claps and lets out a sharp laugh.
“That’s all I have to say to you. Finally, Uncle Henry. Is it okay if I call you that? I’m going to call you that.”
Michael sighs again.
“Thank you, I guess. This plan, regardless of if you wanted me to be here or not, was a push in the right direction. I wouldn’t have done this otherwise, so thanks for that. Also, thanks for being the dad I never had. Even though I had one… you get what I mean. I loved you like a dad, so…”
Michael hiccups a little as a tear runs down his face. He sniffles and wipes his face.
“Well, I believe that is everyone, so let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”
The tape recorder clicks off.
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Michael stands in front of the door, looking at all the animatronics. He sighs again, for the final time, and lifts a container of gas into his arms. He pours it all around, like he’s watering a bed of flowers. He sets the container down and pulls out some matches. He lights one and drops it, letting his garden burn up with him inside of it.