hostile//fillie

chapter thirty-five.

 quick a/n: wow. blessed to have such amazing support. over 60k on the tutor?? and 40k on this one?? i have no words. thank you guys so so so so much !! i feel amazing (:

  **finn's pov**

   I sniffle harshly after regaining myself from thrashing and crying around like a fool before a sudden wave of exhaustion overcomes me,  as I then stand on my weak legs, searching for the will to walk back to Millie's house since she's probably not at the vet's office anymore. 

 I've been here in the abandoned old house for easily multiple hours.

 The trail of my eyes fall onto the view of my old bed and my old pillow that was torn and stained, as I then intently stare at the window with blurry eyes, that was only covered by a useless quilt, small rays of sunlight shining in through the room.  

 It's not her fault that Pup is sick. 

 I guess I just wish the possibility of his well-being wasn't sugar-coated. 

 But did I want to hear the truth about what was bound to unknowingly happen?

 Of course, I didn't. 

 And what makes this all worse is realizing that he's not going to get out of this. 

 Not with my luck.

   "Fucking bullshit." I utter aloud into the empty bedroom, referring to merely everything, as the flesh of my clammy hand glides under my watery cheek, smearing the tears. 

   The next thing I know, I am walking out of the pathetic excuse of a bedroom and down the hallway, as I gain the strength to walk all the way to the complex of Sunset States. 

    She's probably mad at me, but I don't care. 

 A soft breeze of cool wind soothes my flustered and angry cheeks, as I trudge out of the house and onto the trail leading towards the front of the house, both hands tucking into the opening of the pockets of my jeans. 

  What am I going to do with myself?

 I can't go to school or else I'll get put into some home.

 My parents are who-knows-where. 

 I'm not going to have my best friend in my life anymore. 

 Jesus, what's the point?

    Pebble after pebble flies out in front of me against the concrete, as I kick each one harshly, walking down the long street of despair, purely angry at everything and everyone. 

    Distant tires rolling along the road doesn't cause my head to pick up from staring at my pacing feet, as they suddenly accelerate, which ends up opening my curiosity door too widely for me to not glance.

 "Well, what do you know? It's trash boy once and for all!" The sound of Charlie's voice almost causes my skin to physically crawl, as I intently stare in horror at the sight of his black Ford Focus only a few feet from behind me, instant post-traumatic stress disorder overwhelming me to the point where my feet went from innocently strolling to running as fast as humanly possible. 

  My lungs, thighs, feet, and face instantly start to burn from the sudden change of pace, as the engine immediately reflects my current flee, accelerating and catching right up to where I was. 

   The black car then speeds sideways to prevent me from getting away, colliding into the front of my legs, as I plummet onto my side against the road from the abrupt restriction.