Robin Arellano/ Miguel Cazarez Imagines

Fox on the Run [Robin Arellano].

June 22nd, 1978

Robin's POV

I sat there on the dirty, moldy, mattress with my face in my hands, thinking about my girlfriend's words from days ago that were drilled into my brain.

"Don't walk alone cabrón, wait for me, got it?"

I felt myself growing angrier at her words echoing in my head. Why couldn't I have just listened?

I've tried everything I could to get out of this shithole. I fought the grabber, followed the dead kids advice, I even tried escaping out of the basement's caged up window. Everything failed. Miserably.

Robin, you're just gonna die here.

My thoughts grew bigger by the second, the thought of me dying and leaving Luna, it pained me to think of that, the feeling she'd have, what she'd live with. All because I just can't listen.

I couldn't take it anymore. I broke down in tears. I missed Luna, Vance, Finn, and my mother. The feeling of me knowing I could possibly die in this random basement made a bigger hole grow in my stomach. Truth is, I'm terrified. The stinging of my wounds increased as the minutes passed, my head pounded terribly, the deep cuts covered my stomach, arm and cheek. I was losing blood awfully.

My tears made its way in the slash on my cheek making it burn worse than before.

I lifted my weight onto my arms as I got up from the mattress, the creaking of it made me cringe as I leaned against the wall next to the phone.

I stared at it, enough to make me feel as if I could alert Luna to call me magically.

I continued to stare the phone down, droplets of water from the old toilet made its way to my ears while it echoed throughout the empty room, the footsteps from above me made my anxiety go through the roof.

Was he watching me?

I bored my eyes into the ceiling, imagining the prick's face as I muttered an unholy amount of curses under my breath.

I put my weight onto my right foot still leaning against the wall, about to take a step the phone rang, jerking my head to the phone I picked up without hesitation.

"Hello?" I answered, eager to know who it was. I rested my forehead on my arm.

"Hey Robin." The voice said.

My heart dropped at the voice. Vance Hopper.

"Holy shit." I whispered, I began to feel unsteady, dizzy.

My best friend who died 2 weeks ago was talking to me again.

"Vance?" I smiled while tears poured out of my eyes.

"Yeah. That's me, hey man." He answered, I could tell he was smirking just by the tone of his voice, it always sounded the same.

"Vance, please. Help me, I can't do this any longer. Fuck. I don't even think I can." I admitted, biting my bottom lip out of frustration and embarrassment.

I hated the fact that my best friend was hearing me like this, I sound like such a pussy. He definitely knows me well and knows how tough I am but at that point I couldn't help but want to break down. Me being kidnapped and being able to talk to my dead best friend again were indulged in the mind.