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It was weird—being out in the normal world now.
Something had happened to him he just didn’t understand it really. He didn’t want to talk about it either. Once he was found he went to some court ordered shrink who wanted him to journal.
The woman had a big curly mane of red hair and spinach in her yellowed teeth “Hi there Finney.”
“Hi.” The fourteen year old muttered.
The woman had one of those voices that over annunciated every syllable. Like she was attempting to pander to a child. “I know you’re probably not eager to be here but I think it’s important to know you have someone to talk to.”
Finney hadn’t felt like a child in a long time. More like a small adult.
School was different. It was stupid but when he was in the basement he would dream sometimes of going to school and seeing Donna. He barely knew the girl but the hope that he would beat the pedophile and win the girl was his own fucked up action movie.
When he did get out Donna had moved a few states over because her dad got a new job.
But he had found other girls to look at from a far. He felt like a freak for not wanting to do much more than look at them. He felt like a freak for his wandering eyes in the locker room.
He hated when guys eyes would wander over to him. Well, he sorta hated it but a small part of him found it… familiar. The guys whose eyes consistently wandered soon became really familiar with Finney—at least his body.
He used to be smart and that was something Finney took pride in. With the occasional B+ Finney was sure he could work at NASA in the future.
Now he could actively feel with himself kill every brain cell with each inhale of the honestly shitty blunt.
Life sucked but at-least sex and drugs were good?
Life honestly sucked even more now because of how angry he felt all the time. Rage always building up inside him. Rage that he was stupid enough to trust a stranger, to be stuck in that basement for months, to drink down there, that he couldn’t save his one and only friend and now was alone forever.
Sometimes he could get said rage out onto random kids at school. Random kids who dared to think that he really didn’t kill that one pedo, random kids who called him queer, random kids who just laughed at the wrong time, anyone really some days.
Other days he wouldn’t even go to school. Just sit at home and smoke. That was nice.
Still he would show up to those court appointed shrink visits and write bullshit into her composition note book and ignore the curly haired woman.
He didn’t want to move on, a part of him still stuck in the basement with Robin. Maybe it would be that way forever because Finney didn’t want to get better.
Some nights he’d wake up in a cold sweat from a dream nightmare.
It was always a slight variation of him going back to school after avoiding it for a while and seeing Robin at school. Robin who would look exactly the same in that stupid tank top and bandanna.
Robin would give him this sorry look and ask “Why didn’t you ever reach out Finney?”
Words would catch in his throat suddenly parched. “I- I, Robin- I thought you were-“
“I was on vacation I was with my dad I moved out of town, my mom was worried for me and my brother. With all that Grabber shit y’know? But hey I’m back!” Every dream Robin would curate a new lie to quell dream Finney’s worries and it would be nice. They would hang out like the old days. It was peaceful and wonderful. Then as the dream progressed there would be something off about the way Robin’s spoke or the way his eyes looked. A bug would crawl out of his mouth and Robin would act like Finney was crazy when he pointed it out. Then maggots would manifest is sudden slits that would appear all over his body.
And then he would wake up.
Typically after those nightmares Finney would stay home—his father too much of a sorry man to force him to go to school.
But then home got hard to be at—his one safe place. Because of that shit head Ernesto Arellano. Maybe if this was some disney channel hallmark movie it would be cute that both pairs of siblings were friends but this was the real world. But it wasn’t. This was a cruel prank by the universe as if Finney’s life hadn’t already been cruel enough.
Even worse Ernesto was a carbon copy of Robin. Other than his poor hair cut and need for glasses Finney felt like he had seen a ghost.
Ernesto was always at his house, taunting him.
“I don’t like him,” Finney spat at Gwen one night. Ernesto had just left and Finney’s feelings finally spilt over.
“Why not?” Gwen asked as she rolled her eyes. Finney loved his sister but she was just so set in her ways. She had all the friends and she was the one who figured out the mystery of the kidnapper but she didn’t understand what happened.
No one did. He was alone.
“I just don’t, so stop bringing him over.” He crossed his arms.
Gwen—always stubborn—continued to bring him over.
When he was younger Finney swore off alcohol—most drugs for that matter. But when he was in the basement The Grabber showed him the wonders of alcohol and all the wonderfully numbing effects it gave.
Beer tasted like piss and made him even more angry but if he stayed in his room he’d forget about everyone else and the world would be quiet.
He kept this habit quietly until Gwen snuck in Ernesto one night and he was done.
He barged into her room and said that the boy needed to “Get the fuck out!”
She barked back “Dad said it was fine!”
“Well I don’t need to hear you two screwing!”
“We- What the fuck Finney! Are you drunk?”
His eyebrows pinched “How’s that your business!?”
She pushed past him and took Ernesto with her. “You need help.”
“Where are you going?” He shouted.
“Somewhere else.”
Gwen stayed at the Arellano’s after that.
Maybe he did need help. Maybe he did need to see some sorta shrink. Maybe things could get better.
He needed to get better.
He needed to get out of that basement and live.
So he returned to the curly haired woman and took her composition note book and wrote all of his thoughts out. He talked to her. He opened op.
It was like the whole in his heart was slowly being filled with something to stop the bleeding.