hostile//fillie

chapter eight.

**millie's pov**

What was I thinking?

What's wrong with me, and why would I say such an insensitive thing like that to him?

  Regret and self-loathing immediately pulses through my veins, as he rushes away from our intense interaction, while I watched him trudge away angrily with sense of horror placed onto my lips, the sensation of an ache forming into the pit of my stomach, bringing the indentation of my fingers up to my forehead, almost trying to perform such, to accurately gather my thoughts.

     Mum and dad left this morning, without a physical goodbye and a hug.

  They left a note that said: 'leaving for Puerto Rico as we write this note to you. will miss you so much, dear. we'll call as soon as we land. love you! - mum & dad

   That allowed me to feel like a huge doormat, which is a strange analogy, but it's just how I interpret the way that they both act towards me, at times.

  I'm angry, that both of my parents don't bother to ever ask how I feel.

  I'm hurt, knowing that they have no problem just taking off, traveling across the world, whenever it's convenient for them.

I'm going to be completely alone for the next two weeks, and I don't know, it just sort of set me off to the point where I had to say something rude, to take off the pressure that is compressing against my hurting heart.

  Sure, I have plenty of friends, but that factor doesn't make a difference in a sense where I actually feel contempt and involved, versus how I would feel if my parents were around, at least within a hundred mile radius of myself, as odd as that may sound to one.

     A sudden urge to be mean to someone, and anyone, just came out of nowhere.

The second I saw Finn walking through the hallway in the distance, with his black shirt and the jeans he always wears, it's almost like my feet and bent-on desperation to bring discomfort to someone else, took over without my brain's permission.

He at first seemed a little hurt, by what I said, and it's almost like it egged on my internal urge to release steam.

   It's horrible.

  I can't believe that I just did that.

Kids allegedly already say enough shit about denim boy, so for me to approach him in a way that was unnecessary and cruel, it was above and beyond wrong of me.

   I need to find him, and apologize, as soon as physically possible.

     The next thing I know, my feet are racing down the hallway, eager to pinpoint his location, to sincerely apologize and explain myself.

    Millie, you're unbelievable.

  He didn't do anything to you.

  "Finn!" I exclaim loudly, pardoning myself past different groups of slow walkers who seemed to be in another dimension, dust almost forming under the soles of my sneakers, swiftly following after where I'd thought I'd seen him go.

  "Finn, wait!" I call after him once more, reaching the end of the hallway that seemed to go on indefinitely, turning the wide width of the corner in such urgency, knowing deep down that the guilt would surely eat away at my flesh, if more than a few minutes passed by without telling him sorry.