Helpless » Fillie

| wake me up |

"I love you," she struggled to speak, "now save yourself and run before it's too late."

A multitude of tears streamed down the woman's delicate face.

She was lying almost lifelessly, limbs almost sunder, on the cemented grounds that were stained dark red. With almost each word she shuddered she coughed violently, unwillingly spurting her blood onto her ragged clothes and her son's blanched hands.

The dark areas underneath her drooping eyes and cheeks rendered several deep cuts from a knife. Aggressive bruises found shelter near her pale, cracked lips and around her jaw. Dark hues clung to her wrists. Her torn jeans were ripped forcibly from the knee, exposing a myriad of dried scars from her meager legs down to her ankles.

"H-he's coming for the b-both of us," her soft voice began to fade out. He was petrified and apprehensive of the who she was referring to.

"No, I-I can't leave you! Who i-"

He was cut off by her forceful pleads that boomed in his ears. Her stained eyes abruptly widened in pure fear and the pigment rushed from the skin on her face as she eyed a mysterious figure in a black coat slowly making his way towards them, a knife in hand. She didn't hesitate to push her son as far away as possible, gathering all the strength she had left.

"FINN, RUN!"

His heart pounded in his ears and his bloodshot eyes shot open as a baleful scream threatened to escape him. He opened his mouth, but the only sounds he could make out were croaky sobs and faint cries of agony.

It felt as if a menacing entity of some sort had compelled him to silent himself and not wake up his housemates in panic or worry. Almost instantaneously, he felt a pang of severe anxiety rising up in the pit of stomach.

He laid onto his side and curled up into his blanket, clutching the edges of his white shirt that was now soaked in his sweat. He remained in that position for several moments after which he gathered himself and immediately shot out of bed to stagger towards his bathroom.

The freckled boy's hallucinations had terrorized him for years. However, they seemed to reach peak at the crack of dawn and in spite of his worrisome sleep deprivation, he couldn't get himself to re-enter another deep slumber, for he'd be forced to envision it again.

He entered the bathroom and released a deep sigh. He painfully stared at his reflection in the large mirror that hung on the tiled wall in front of him. His raw state was an excruciating sight to behold and it revolted him.

He leaned onto the cold tile wall behind him and slumped down, struggling to hold back another stream of hot tears.

At school, he was known as an old soul, a boy whose mind surpassed his time. He enjoyed poetry and literature, and admired art over sports games and parties where alcohol, drugs, and sex were involved, but he certainly didn't mind attending them if his friends were there.

His group of friends at school consisted of three other boys, one of whom he lived with. Gaten was his name.

When Finn's father ran off when he was 4 years old, his mother was left almost impoverished. Her love for her son, however, never strayed. She felt more than obliged to work two jobs and drop out of medical school to pay back the debts her con-artist of a husband had left for her to drown in, and to continue providing the best for her son. Through it all, she never complained once.

His mother, Elizabeth, was an admirable and selfless woman and mother. Her love for her only son, Finn was unquestionable in the eyes of everyone who knew their family. That was, until her disappearance one quiet afternoon.

The police had started an investigation. They searched the family's Atlanta apartment for clues. They interviewed neighbors and coworkers. They dusted for fingerprints and filed reports, but they found nothing. Elizabeth Wolfhard had simply vanished into thin air.

Months later the police found her abandoned car. The only clue was a blood-red handprint on the dashboard, however there were still no leads. Their investigation had come to a dead end.

8 years had passed since the disappearance and over seven years since Gaten's mother, and his godmother as well, Suzanne, succeeded in claiming legal custody over the trauma-stricken boy, her own son's best friend.

The two boys had become an inseparable duo since his moving in to the Matarazzo household. Suzanne and her husband, Gus welcomed Finn into their home as if he was one of their own. Finn loved his new adopted family and could never express his gratitude towards them for their hospitality. But truth be told, despite all the revelations, they could never compare to his birth mother.

Of course, Finn could never admit that aloud. Everyone in the small town believed Elizabeth's disappearance was no kidnapping but a mere suicide to escape her sorrowful life, and that Finn despised her for it. Nonetheless, he was wiser than to believe in the talk of the town.

When he wasn't out at parties with his friends or playing video games with Gaten in their basement, he'd lock himself in his room and talk to the moon every single night. He believed that his mother wasn't dead, but that her death was staged and she was out there somewhere. Unsafe. Helpless.

Little did he know that right on the opposite end of his street, lived a particular brown-haired girl that was also experiencing her own set of trials and tribulations. And she, too, talked to the moon every single night.

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jennifer garner as elizabeth wolfhard
brie larson as suzanne matarazzo
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what do you think happened to elizabeth?

was that a flashback or a nightmare?

and who's the girl at the end of the street?

p.s. thank you so much to everyone who commented on this story so far. honest to god, i'm still overwhelmed by all the positive attention. you are the ones driving me to continue this story and you all inspire me.