"Okay, now try wiggling your toes and bending your leg."
The physical therapist's sickly-sweet voice echoed in the near silent gym as Finley settled back on her yoga mat, pulling up her prosthetic leg and hearing the click of the limb's material as her 'toes' scraped against each other, doing more of a jerky back-and-forth motion than wiggling. The physical therapist - Samantha, her name was - hummed and hawed at the failed movement.
"Well, I mean, it wasn't so bad... at least you can move your toes..." Sam trailed off, picking up a clipboard and scribbling something onto it as Finley sighed. Ah, yes, she thought bitterly, grunting as she sat up. Yes, you're able to jerk your foot around like a spastic ferret. Such an improvement. She scowled.
After an eternity of writing, Sam looked up from her clipboard and took a pair of crutches that had been placed against the gym's wall, handing them off to Finley as the teen struggled to stand. "I'm not seeing very much improvement today, Finley," Sam admitted. "You really need to try and walk without your crutches, try and act like the prosthetic's a normal limb. I know it doesn't feel very natural, because that's just it - it's not natural, and it will never be. But try and treat it like a limb rather than a plank of wood, eh, Finley?" Sam gave her a small smile. "I know it's hard to deal with, but let's face it - it's either this or a wheelchair, and I know you don't want that. Anyway, the session's been over for ten minutes now, so let's go sign you out." Sam turned and began to walk towards the doors of the gym, her sneakers squeaking on the wooden floor.
Finley leaned into her crutches, feeling rather miserable as she began to swing herself forward, trying desperately to walk with her fake leg and failing. The limb merely jerked forward as she tried to move, causing her journey to the front desk of the gym to be a very long-winded one. When she finally got there, Sam was holding the door open for her, smiling and wishing her a happy Halloween as Finley limped towards the parking lot, looking around for her mother's car.
Her eyes shifted left, then right, then left once more.
Oh, you've got to be kidding me.
Finley sighed loudly as she scanned the parking lot a fourth time, still not seeing her mother's car anywhere. She herself was more than twenty minutes late out of the gym, but yet, there was still no sign of her mother. Feeling a slight buzz in her pocket, Finley hurried to lean against a wall for support, before pulling out her phone and seeing a new message flashing on the screen.
"Can't come... overtime at work... walk yourself home - oh, for god's sake!" Finley shouted, huffing angrily. "I can barely walk on my own without falling flat on my face and she wants me to walk home?" The teen raged, her outburst earning her a few strange glances from others in the parking lot. Infuriated, Finley tapped in multiple different numbers on her phone, earning a total of zero answers as she tried desperately to pick up a ride. Looks like I'm walking... Glancing meaningfully at the gym door beside her, Finley had a quick flash of hope before dispelling it completely. Maybe Sam could drive me...? No, she's working. Too busy.
Shifting forward on her crutches, Finley began to swing towards the sidewalk, silently thanking whatever deity was up in the sky that her home wasn't too far from the gym. The small plaza that the gym was placed in was right next to the town's high school, which was conveniently placed near about six different neighborhoods, the closest being Finley's. While it was still slow-paced, the distance between the gym and the neighborhood wasn't too awful for Finley. In fact, as the teen swung herself past the school, she felt the tiniest bit of excitement flare up in her chest as she remembered Sam's well-wishes as she had left. It was Halloween, after all, and while Finley considered herself too old - and at the moment, too unstable - to trick or treat, she could still dress up and watch horror movies on her couch. A small spark of happiness bubbled in her gut, and Finley found herself swinging along at a nice stride in the cool autumn air.
That was, until a hand gripped her crutch.
Coming to an abrupt stop at the woods near the edge of the school, Finley nearly toppled over, clutching her remaining crutch as she looked to see who had grabbed the other. Her heart sank and her face hardened at the sight of Mason Spaulding and his friends, a small trio of boys that had relentlessly bullied Finley since grade school for seemingly no reason - at least, until she had lost her leg. Mason smiled deviously, looking over the crutch as he slid a hand over the cool metal. "Wow, Finley," The teen said, in mock surprise. "I didn't know you still had to use crutches! What, are you too retarded to learn how to walk on your own?" Finley angrily gritted her teeth and allowed her hand to shoot out, her fingers grazing the metal before Mason ripped the crutch away. "Nope!" He said in a singsong voice, earning laughter from his friends. "You can't get these back -" Mason grinned, gripping Finley's other crutch and tearing it away from her, the forceful movement causing her to fall flat on her backside. "-until you show me that you can walk on your own!"
Feeling hot tears sting the corners of her eyes, Finley bent one knee in front of herself, then the other, and wobbled as she stood, taking a very unbalanced step forward in determination. She attempted to place her prosthetic forward, but was unbearably unsteady. She felt her legs buckle beneath her as she fell to her knees, swearing loudly as Mason and his crew burst into laughter. "Give me back my crutches," Finley snapped, feeling angry tears begin to trail down her cheeks as she furiously wiped at her face.
Mason bent down to tilt her head up with a devilish grin. "No." He laughed, before looping his arms through the crutches and beginning to walk off.
Humiliated and enraged, Finley shook as she reached out and grabbed Mason's ankle in a harsh grip, yanking herself forward and sinking her teeth into his leg. Shouting in pain, Mason swung the crutches down at Finley's face, the light metal catching the side of her head and her cheek. The teen could practically hear her teeth rattle in her skull as it hit, causing her to immediately let go of Mason's leg. Reaching upwards, Finley managed to yank a single crutch away from the boy, before aiming it straight at his crotch and shoving it towards him.
Mason howled.
"You little bitch!" He shouted, swinging the crutch at her and catching her side as Finley struggled to her feet and began to limp into the woods as fast as she could, bending her fake leg and darting forward, weaving through the trees and shrubbery, tears blurring her vision. In a moment of slight hysteria, Finley thought of the Benny Hill theme as she wound through the forest, switching between different flattened, leafy pathways every few minutes. As the dying greenery became more dense and the sounds of Mason and his gang faded in the air, Finley found a tree stump and allowed herself to rest and calm down before heading back to the street.
Except... Finley thought as her heart sank once again, her eyes adjusting to the woods' light. I don't know where 'back' is.
It had been nothing short of hours.
Finley had rested for only a moment, then took off into the woods once again with her single crutch, limping along in one direction before finding a small creek and realizing, with a loud curse, that she hadn't seen a creek when she was running from Mason and his crew. Just finding that creek had taken an hour, and trying other directions had taken more time than the teen would've liked to admit. By the time Finley stopped once again, cold, hungry, and with her face sore from where Mason had hit her, the outside light had already begin to fade.
Settling down on a fallen tree limb, Finley reached into her back pocket for her phone, before realizing that the tiny device wasn't in any of her pockets. Well, there goes my flashlight. Must've dropped it earlier... the girl sighed, thinking wistfully of the tiny, bright light built into her phone. Although... Finley thought, glancing at the moonlight filtering through breaks in the trees. I might not need it. The shrubbery's cleared out a bit here... maybe I'm close to a neighborhood?
Stumbling to her feet, Finley limped around for a while, before coming to a small clearing where the trees were spread out into a circle. "Whoa..." She breathed, staring open-mouthed at the clearing. "I hope I didn't stumble into some freaky occult gathering spot..." She mumbled, limping into the small clearing and glancing around at the trees.
Each one had a different symbol carved into it and painted, though they weren't truly symbols, they were more of... pictures. One held a four-leaf-clover, another a heart with an arrow through it, and one with a... Christmas tree? "Oh yeah, this is definitely some weird occult crap," Finley muttered, shuddering. The one symbol that caught her eye was a pumpkin - or rather, it was more of a jack-o-lantern. Fitting, especially tonight. Cautiously stepping closer, Finley noticed a worn, golden handle on the side of the pumpkin, and felt a strange urge to open it. While her mind was screaming not to touch it, her body ignored it - her hand reached out on its own, pulling open the door and looking down into a dark, deep, hollow tree. "That's weird as hell," Finley said loudly, her voice echoing in the clearing. Shrugging, the girl picked up her crutch and began to walk away...
Until a harsh wind sucked her back, slamming her back into the tree and tipping her into its depths.
Well, you've just met Finley Kennett. How do you like her? Is she interesting? Unbearable? Annoying? A right Mary-Sue? (I'm praying that the latter is not the case...)
I've been wanting to write a TNBC fanfic for the longest time, and I figured that now was the time to do it - I don't really have a reason why, honestly, other than "I felt like it." I'm also experimenting with writing characters with actual, physical hindrances, since I haven't really written much on them before.
SIDENOTE: Those of you who are here and wondering why in the hell I'm posting something other than a Kuroshitsuji fanfic, it's because I have absolutely lost all inspiration in that series for right now and I'm having a serious bout of writer's block with it. I'm hoping that while I write this fic, I'll gain the inspiration to write more of Cirque - but for now I'm leaving it alone. Not forever, mind you, but for a bit.
Anyway! Onto the disclaimer! I don't own the wonderful, fantastic, magnificent movie that is The Nightmare Before Christmas. The only things I own in this story are the characters that I create, such as Finley, and if any characters bear any likeness to any real-life persons, then that's a mere coincidence.
See you in Chapter 2!