I don’t know how I felt about this. My father… it just didn’t seem right. I couldn’t imagine him writing this, but still. It was definitely his letter. Did he really feel that way about it? I don’t know. One thing, however, was true. He was crazy. I remember… one moment he was playing with Elizabeth, the next moment he stood up and went into his workshop, where we heard loud banging, sometimes even screaming. He killed the children. He designed the animatronics. The springlock suits were his idea.
I stood up and walked away. I needed some time to think it through.

…

I went upstairs, where our rooms used to be. Not bothering to check mine, which I knew was empty, I headed straight to Elizabeth’s. After she was gone, no one touched anything in her room. It was just like she left it that day. Her toys still on the floor, her closet still open. The only thing that was missing was her Circus Baby doll that she took with her. It’s probably gone now.
My brother’s room didn’t change either. His plush toys in the corner, the large closet opened. I used to hide my Foxy mask there, to scare him… never mind. His yellow bear plush was still on his bed. How? He took it with him to Fredbear’s, like always. I guess William put it back there. I picked it up and its weight surprised me. Of course it was heavy; it was a robot that William made just for him, back when he couldn’t sleep alone.

…

William Afton, my father, the owner of Freddy’s and the other restaurants, however people call him. I remember him vividly. He was a tall guy, his messy dark hair always in a ponytail. He always wore at least something purple. People used to tell me that I look just like him, but I didn’t want to believe them. Now I realized that they were right. I was just a little shorter, but I still looked like a younger version of him. I couldn’t change it. No matter how much I cut my hair, no matter how I dressed. I was still Michael Afton, son of a serial killer.

why was it me