You had begged and begged your parents for your seventh birthday party to be at Fredbear's family diner. Your parents hesitated, not liking the dirty atmosphere, but they gave in to their darling child.

You were running in, about to go dance near the stage where the animatronics were singing when you spy a boy around your age. He was hiding it seemed, but not in the fun way kids do for hide and seek.

He was crying, shaking and clinging to a Fredbear stuffed animal.