Posts by Finnick J. Wilde

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    "Why can't we just go home?" He asked quietly. He was scared and everything hurt and he wanted to go home. He'd feel better if he were at home. He didn't like it here right now. He was terrified.

    "I want to go home." He said but he ended passing out again after that.

    "Everything." He said quietly, staring up at his little brother. He was worried about about him but he suddenly realized he had no idea where he was exactly.

    "My head. It looks like there's three of you. I don't even know where to look." Lucas was a disaster.

    "Gods I want go home."

    Lucas was just waking up. He had no idea where he was or what was happening. He was very confused and everything hurt. Especially his head. He couldn't believe this. Tammy was legitimately threatening to kill all because he said no to her. He stared up at Dixie. Was he bleeding? What the hell even happened? "Are you okay?" He asked quietly.

    One of the boys tensed up, slowly turning to look at Dixie, something told if he didn't run, he was going to regret it so he took off as fast as he could. A few boys followed but three stayed behind. They dropped Lucas and turned to face Dixie. They were terrified, but they weren't leaving.

    Lucas was in trouble. Big trouble, and it was all because of Tamika Irene Dalton. He had no interest in her whatsoever yet she threw herself at him every chance she got but he didn't complain. It was better than being kidnapped or tortured. It was better than living in constant fear, never knowing if he was going to survive the day. Only, that constant fear was coming back. It was back because he'd been noticing guys giving him awful looks as he walked along with Spencer in the halls. He'd noticed guys following him, watching his every move. He wasn't stupid. He'd dealt with things like his whole life. So when it finally happened, when they followed him to the library that day, he wasn't surprised and as he was laying on the ground, his knife just out of reach while the beat him and shouted those horrible things at him he wasn't surprised. He tried desperately to get away, get to his knife. He couldn't though. He could reach his phone. He unlocked it with his finger print and somehow managed to say the five words he needed to say.

    "Hey Friday! Call Dixie!" He cried out but he his phone even understood. Luckily it did. He was praying Dixie would pick up. That's when someone kicked him in the head. Hard. So hard, it knocked him out and someone panicked.

    "HOLY SHIT! guys back up! Lay off! He's Dead!" One of the boys cried out.

    "Shit! You killed him Tripp! You fucking killed him!" Another accused.

    "Okay, calm down. We need to hide the body." Someone stated, trying to remain calm.

    "Suicide Rock!" One of the boys cried.

    "Not a bad idea Randy, no one goes up there. We'll ditch him there." And so they carried him off leaving his phone there, still in a call with Dixie. No one seemed to notice it. Thank the gods for idiots.

    "Stop that, you're making things worse. Let yourself heal Dummy." Will said. He was quiet for a minute. Shuddering when he remembered what he'd seen his father do.

    "Most of the staff's dead. Dad and Amara handled them." He explained. He suddenly felt like he was going to be sick. He wished he'd never seen that.


    Amara stepped inside Morgan's room quietly, walking over to the bed she gently took her hand and held onto it. She was very worried about her.