(tw: graphic descriptions of domestic violence)
"Each roll of the tires took him farther from the place he was trying to escape from, and closer to a place where he would eventually have to leave."
Breathing out a shuttering breath, Finn quietly encircles his arm around his sister, wincing as her hand grazes upon his bruised collarbone. Big brown eyes stare up at him sleepily, and he forcibly sends her a placating smile as he reaches for the bag he packed for the both of them the night prior.
"Where are we going?" Cleo asks tiredly, a pillow indentation tattooed on the tiny fist she raises up to rub against her eye. Glancing around her small and tattered bedroom, he hesitantly reaches over the plastic covered bed and tugs the matted stuffed animal she can't go anywhere without into his backpack.
"We, are going on an adventure." Finn muffles out, his hair tickling his forehead as he hitches his backpack further up his side. Hesitantly turning around, he lifts up his left foot and takes his first few steps, narrowly missing the first few shards of glass haphazardly lying on the stained carpet.
Letting out a muted yawn, Cleo lifts her head from Finn's chest and looks around the dark and deathly quiet home. "Will it just be the two of us this time?" She asks, her small fingers weaving their way into his wrinkled shirt. Biting the inside of his cheek, Finn nods halfheartedly and opens the hallway's door as silently as he can.
Ten feet in front of them and a few more to the left, lies their adoptive father, passed out on the sofa and hugging a cracked photo frame. Three and a half feet to the right of him, is the wall where Finn was pushed face first into an hour before. Licking at his split bottom lip, he grimaces at the bitter taste in his mouth and glances down at the photo his father is clutching in his sleep. Smiling up at them, is their adoptive mother and older sister. Before they passed away two years ago, they were a happy and healthy family. Now, Finn can barely go a day without having glass or bottles thrown at him, holes punched in the wall near his head, or getting beaten for not allowing their father to get near his three-year-old sister while he's intoxicated and inebriated. The words his father bellowed out at him earlier, rang through his head repeatedly as Finn glanced down at his disheveled face.
"Mom would have been fifty-four today, and your sister would have been twenty-two. And instead of them being here, I'm stuck here with you two. One too young to do anything useful, and one too useless to do anything right. You'd have thought giving you two a home would have blessed me, but instead I'm stuck here with two liabilities and two of the only people I've ever cared about dead. Pathetic is what you are, and pathetic is what my life has become. If only it was you in that front seat! She'd still be here with me, and I'd have a few more dollars in my pocket."
Hot tears burned his dry eyes, but Finn refused to allow them to fall, and instead blinked them away rapidly. Looking outside the window, relief flooded him at the sight of the back of his car facing the end of their driveway. Ignoring the holes in the wall next to their key hanger, Finn looked down at Cleo, as she lets out a disapproving sound at him placing her down on her socked feet.
"I need you to be very quiet, okay? We can't wake dad up. Grab your shoes." He whispered out, watching her warily as she unsteadily tip-toed to her shoes. Looking down at his phone, Finn made sure to disable his bluetooth and location before placing his phone back into his pocket and beckoning Cleo forward.
Kneeling down, he hastily tied her right shoe, before freezing at the sound of a rough and auditory inhale. Finn held his breath as their father shifted, the sound of stiff plastic ruffling through the stale air of the home.
Grunting out, their father paused his ministrations, before a socked foot hit the head of the sofa and became motionless again. Looking up at his younger sister, Finn pinched his lips together as he took in the sight of the now frightened Cleo, before refocusing on tightening up her shoelaces and standing up straight.
'Keys.' He mouthed to Cleo, before gently tapping her right arm and moving forward to grasp onto the metal. Clutching them into his fist, Finn hastily lifted his hand and gestured to the front door. Nodding, his little sister lunged over the broken glass pieces on the carpeted floor, before reaching out to his free hand and relaxing as he lifted her up and placed her on his hip.
Quickly looking over the living room and the kitchen, Finn makes sure that nothing important is being left behind, before he turns his attention to the front door. Shakily lifting his hand, he undoes the chain and reaches for the deadbolt.
Wincing at the sound of the audible click, Finn decides to risk the flinging of the door motion and speeds his way down the front steps, huffing out loud as the weight of the bags pound against his protruding spine. "Don't look back, don't look back," He bites out as he hears the sound of movement in the home just a few feet away.
Letting in a gasp of air, Finn bends down to open the back passenger side door as soon as they reach the car. Jumping at the sound of glass hitting a wooden table, Finn places Cleo in her safety seat and attaches her seatbelts in a frenzy. Not wanting to risk any more time, he climbs into the back seat and closes the door, before climbing over the middle compartment and into the driver's seat. Finn bites back a shudder as their father appears in the doorway, his mouth already opening to shout at the sight of them in the car without his permission. But before he could even get a word out, Finn places the key into the ignition and starts up the car, before placing it in drive and pressing his foot down heavily on the gas.
Finn glances in the rearview mirror and winces as he sees their father running towards them in the dead of night shirtless, but he quickly goes out of view as the muffler spurts out pillows of smoke into the cold, winter air. Shivering from the drafts and the cold leather seats, Finn quickly reaches forward and turns the temperature of the air sputtering out to the warmest setting.
Hands gripping the steering wheel, Finn forces his chin to stop quivering at the thought of no longer having a home. Gritting his teeth, he goes to turn on the radio, before a whimper in the back seat causes him to freeze.
"Finn- I'm, I'm scared." Cleo began to cry out, causing Finn to slow down and carefully reach his right hand behind his seat. Lips lifting involuntarily at her hand reaching forward for his without a second thought, he sends her a small smile and promises her,
"Everything's gonna be alright."
YOU ARE READING
foundling → e.cullen, r.hale
Fanfiction"Each roll of the tires took him farther from the place he was trying to escape from, and closer to a place where he would eventually have to leave." In which Emmett Cullen and Rosalie Hale take interest in a quiet boy and a little girl, who just mo...
