[the ocean's breeze] NEWTMAS SHORT STORY

[ 01 ]

thomas

the ocean is the only thing that grounded me after newt. i guess its ironic because the ocean flows freely against the actual sand i'm digging my palms into. my gaze sticks to the crashing waves in front of me and i use them to ground myself again.

keeping my eyes on the orange horizon, i let the heavy pants coming from my throat begin to slow. i need to believe i can do it, i need to believe i can go on without him.

but i can't.

i squeeze my eyes shut tightly to stop the urge to throw up. my dry throat scratches at my neck and i swallow, hoping the motion would stop the suffocating feeling beginning to rise up through it. i grasp at the sand again desperately, my fingertips feel the cold grains slipping through them.

a groan falls from my cracked throat again, the pain in my head only grows.

"woah, thomas! thomas!" i hear a voice shout, but its too far to recall, too far to care. i feel a hand grip my shoulder and i scramble back at the touch. a sudden burst of adrenaline fills my veins so i stand to get away from the possible attacker, but the blood rushes to my feet too quickly and black spots shield my vision. 

then i tumble down. my elbows hit the sand quickly, and i can't breathe again. i'm suffocating again, i'm trapped. i can't breathe. breathe, breathe thomas. breathe.

"thomas, breathe! i'm here, i'm right here." the calloused finger that wipes at my tears reminds me i'm crying in the first place. through the wet walls that also prevent me from seeing anything clearly, i can make out a caring figure the finger belonged to.

"mi- minho," i try to mumble out before realizing my voice is too scratchy to say anything. minho gives me a gentle smile and rests his hand on my shoulder. he keeps speaking to me but i can't hear him, the words are too clouded. i can't hear anything. it feels like i'm under water. my breathing picks up and i can see minho's eyes widen past cloudy tears.

"hey, hey buddy. listen to me! breathe," minho says as i double over like someone punched me in the gut. the contents of my breakfast threaten to spill over and i dry heave into the sand. everything is hot, red hot, but its so cold. my throat is burning and sweat drips from my forehead but i can't do it without him, i'm so alone. if only i had done better. if only i had taken the knife away, i could've saved him. but i didn't, i've failed.

my forehead presses into the sand as my dry heaving finishes, tears roll down my face continually. minho's soothing hand caresses my spine and gives me the indication that i'm not completely alone. minho's here, he's here and my best friend and alive.

the calm, crashing waves of the ocean are a good indication i'm also alive. i can ground myself with it. they pass in a rhythmic flow by and by.

"i'm..." i start, but i don't think i can finish. my voice gets stuck in my throat again and i let out another pathetic cry. it hurts so much without him, the physical pain aches in my chest and i can't get it to stop because there's no real injury. no bleeding to hold a rag to. no shoulder to snap into place. this pain is the raw fact that newt is dead and i just can't face it. "i'm sorry, minho."

"hey, no. just breathe for a minute, okay?" i try to even my breaths with the soothing hand massaging my back. minho's hand is rough, it's been through a lot. the gentle touches provided by him aren't like newt's, newts were soft and i always melted under his touch. minho's are sweet, but they're stiff compared to the touch i felt with newt. i just want him back, he could've been here if i was faster. he would've been alive in the first place if i didn't help wicked with the stupid maze. it's my fault, it's all my fault.

i swallow back another possibility of a panic attack quickly, instead replacing it with a deep, shaky breath. i sit back on my knees and bring my butt to my ankles. i'm suddenly drained of all real energy, void of any real desire to do anything besides lay on the beach with minho.