Dear Fin,

This is stupid. I have no idea why I'm writing to you right now. I started this several days ago, filling good as I scrawled the finishing words onto the page. But now, as the words flow from me, falling onto the now blemished paper, I can't help but filling like this is a waste. It's not like you're going to read this.

But . . . I've already started. I mean, I've already wasted this page. I might as well continue. Although, at this moment I'm wasting words and page space and time by writing to you about how much of a waste this is.

Anyways.

I started this so I could find where our predetermined fate together was meant to end, so here I go . . . this is the story of you and I. Of Fin and Annalise.

The first time I met you, I was seventeen years old and suffered from extreme social anxiety. My social anxiety was so bad that just speaking was enough to send me shuddering and my speech quivering, promising an eventual panic attack. To make matters worse, I was bullied, but you knew that. People found it funny that they could make me shake and cry by just asking me a few questions.

When I met you . . . you're the first person in my life, besides my family, that treated me like a regular human being. You're my first friend and my best friend. I would be lying if I said meeting you wasn't most the most important day of my life. And the one that would end up eventually ruining it.

Encounter Number One:

The hot words of those surrounding me pounded my ears. The tones were harsh, meaning unkindness, hitting me with a force that caused me to flinch away from them. I jolted into a locker, a meek physical pain combed over my shoulder, but I barely noticed it. I slid down the lockers, curled up on the ground, blocking out their voices to no avail.

My whole body was trembling, the ferocity of it causing my mind to collapse in on itself, and I lost myself. The tears came before I could stop them, flooding my eyes like a tsunami wave, flowing down my cheeks. I tried to breathe, but my lungs were filled, drowning with their voices and I . . . can't . . . breathe.

I took a moment to catch it, causing the voices to fill my ears once more.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Why are you such a freak?"

"She's such a loser."

"She? More like he . . . have you seen his chest?"

Laughter.

I was f

a

l

l

i

n

g

apart.

Here in public, I was breaking, shattering into a million fragments. I was like a broken mirror, struggling to find myself and piece it back together.

The tears were still coming and I covered my face, trying to hold in the tears and block my view from the guys before me. A sob left me lips, causing me to shake more, and I heard laughter. Laughter.

I peeked through my fingers to see these guys before me, the ones from before, who had asked me all those intense questions just to get under my skin. They're laughing, watching me and laughing, enjoying my agony.

Was everybody monsters? The enjoyment of pain was such a frightening quality in a person, but in plenty of people . . . that made me wonder if everybody had these qualities. If everyone was so awful.

The answer was no.

Because at that moment, you came to the rescue, even if that wasn't your original purpose. To make matters cliché, that was your first day of school, and you found yourself lost in the endless corridors that tangled together like a maze. That's when you encountered me and those boys and you saved me.

I didn't really notice you because I was so scared. I could barely focus on anything but ending what was going on, but I could hear the voices becoming more intense again. I curled up on the ground even tighter, whimpering, when I felt something on my shoulder. I flinched away, crying out, and I peeked out from my tears between my fingers.

That's when I met you for the first time.

You were kneeling in front of me, your hand still lying gently on my shoulder. You're the most beautiful person I had ever seen.

Your hair was the color of sand, cropped short at the sides, but the top flopped into your face and hid your eyes. I glanced at your face, finding shimmering green eyes, lined by the longest lashes I had ever seen on a boy. You had a long colorless face with a slender nose, lips curved into a sheepish smile beneath. You wore ripped jeans, battered converse and a black sweatshirt; a beanie clutched in your hand.

Your voice was like sandpaper. "Are you okay?"

I couldn't speak.

"Did they hurt you?" You asked, not touching me, but your gaze on mine felt so intimate that you might as well have.

Still, words wouldn't leave my lips and you looked disappointed. You didn't understand that at this time I couldn't speak, at least not to strangers. The pressure of conversation and socializing was way too much for me and evening muttering a weak 'no' would've sent me shaking again. I didn't want you to think I'm a loser.

"I'm not going to hurt you, alright? Just . . . you're okay," you said.

You placed your hand on my shoulder, careful, because you didn't want to scare me. Your skin briefly met mine . . . you're all silk and fire and zeal, even in a mere touch. I shivered, but not because it was bad. You helped me to my feet.

"You're not alone," you breathed.

I don't know why but there was something about you saying that. My heart melted in my chest, my stomach dropping to my toes, my breath completely vanished from my lungs . . . I was completely and utterly enthralled by you at that moment, Finland Erickson.

"I'm Fin."

I struggled to speak, but I managed it; I was determined. "An-Annalise."

"Annalise?" You repeated.

I nodded.

"Annalise, I welcome you to the world of misfits." Your eyes were on mine for a moment, so distinctly green my whole world evaporated into that color . . . you had –have- the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen.

And then you're gone and I struggled to remember if you're real. Had I just imagined you, the perfect boy with the perfect words? Or were you real, real life the rest of the people in my horrid reality, and already decided I wasn't worth your time? Finland Erickson, you're the last dream of my soul . . . and the only wish to ever come true by it.

For the rest of that period, I just stood there, unsure of what my next actions could be. Because I was dazed by you: the boy who told me I wasn't alone.

End of Encounter Number One.

Do you remember that day, Fin? Now the mere context of it seems unimportant and ridiculously cliché . . . you always knew how to play to my inner hopeless romantic. But these memories, probably so insignificant for you, are the days I learned how to live. The day I met you was the day I was born. As much as you broke me, you also taught me about how I was born to live and not just exist. You taught me to be a voice, not an echo.

As much as I hate you for hurting me, I thank you for giving me the strength to move on from that pain. Before you, I was an unsolved puzzle; and after you I was that, too. The only difference is that now, maybe, I can put myself back together without any help.

I loved loving you.

I miss you.

-Annalise

*

Hey Reader!

Last Chapter's song: "Jar of Hearts" by Christina Perry. This song is about someone who comes back into your life and resurfaces harsh memories, which I feel like this chapter is all about. Annalise sees Fin again, which is very painful for her.

This Chapter's Song: "Just Give Me a Reason" by P!nk ft. Nate Ruess. This song can relate to both the past and present part of this chapter. The past being because Fin is her reason, the one teaching her that she's "broken and not bent," while also applying to the present because Annalise is just trying to discover how she can move on.

Thanks for reading!

Love Your Favorite Liar <3