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FINNEY BLAKE'S POV

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FINNEY BLAKE'S POV

All I've ever wanted was for Y/N L/N to leave me alone.

It all began in the summer of 1972, before the start of second grade. Right when my family's car pulled into her neighborhood, there she was. Sitting on the curb in front of her own house, which not to mention isn't the best looking. It was almost as if she knew that we were coming and knew that she finally had somebody to target.

And the thing is, she didn't just barge into my life. She shoved, twisted, and wedged her way in.

When I first saw her sitting on the curb, we made eye contact. And when I tell you that I could just see the evil flaming in her eyes, I mean it.

Okay, maybe I'm doing too much. After all she was only seven.

But did we invite her to help with the boxes? No. Did we tell her to come over to us? No! It was a self invite.

Only Y/N L/N would do something like that.

SUMMER OF 1972

Before I was even able to grab a box, she popped out of a no where.

"Hi, I'm Y/N L/N," she introduced herself. "Need some help?"

She didn't even wait for an answer. As she was asking the question, she started to reach for a box that was placed on the ground of the truck, just in front of her feet.

My dad tried stopping her. "Hey!" he says as he noticed what she was grabbing. "What are you doing? You're getting mud everywhere!"

That was true. It looked like she didn't bother to keep her shoes clean. Her shoes were, like caked with the stuff.

She didn't listen though. Instead, she chose to ignore my dad and planted her rear end on the floor and started pushing a big box with her feet. "Don't you want some help?"

Her voice was annoying. Even listening to fingernails drag across a chalkboard would sound better.

She glanced my way. "It sure looks like you need it."

What?

I didn't like the implication at all. And even though my dad had been tossing me the same sort of look and attitude all week, I could tell that he didn't like this girl either.

She turned over to me again. "How about this one?" she questioned, pointing to a box that seemed to have some cracks in it from the weight.

𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 - 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐘 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐊𝐄Where stories live. Discover now