~|Charge|~ Thomas

Chapter 22: Just a Weird Dream

That night, Thomas lay in Linnea's hammock, his hands wrapped around her waist, their bodies pressed against each other, legs tangled together, both facing the same way. Linnea focused in on Thomas's warm breath hitting her hair, blowing parts of it in all directions, but the feeling of it was amazing. The feeling of everything with him was so surreal. Nothing seemed right, though, and all of their thoughts ended up leading back to what had happened that night, right as the doors were closing.

"Do you think he'll make it?" Thomas asked the tired girl, her eyes fully closed but she was not in her slumber yet, but Thomas was wide awake, as thoughts that seemed to be so far off, came closer to him, rubbing themselves against him as Linnea had already done.

"Ben?" Linnea asked, replaying the image of his screaming face before the doors closed on him in her mind. "No." Then she said the words that she was basically required to repeat every time someone asked about something in this situation. "No one survives a night in the maze." She sighed, the memories of Ben hitting her hard in the gut, but she knew what must be done, and Thomas needed to know as well. They had already crossed his name off of the wall, the only thing left for them to do was forget about him, but Linnea knew that she would have a hard time forgetting it. She remembered each and every face that was there of each and every boy who had died. "We just gotta forget about him."

Thomas stayed silent after that, knowing that he should probably listen to the girl, but something inside him told him that he wouldn't be able to forget the horrifying expression that was written across Ben's face when he first approached him. The way he toppled on him and tried to kill him. The way he tried to kill Linnea. Everything. It all was completely scary and unforgettable that nothing would stop those thoughts from remaining inside his head. Nothing.

As both of them drifted into sleep, almost at the same time, their arms wrapped around each other, legs intertwined, warmth full on each of their bodies, the same image appeared in each of their minds. The same dream. Identical. Exactly the same. Almost.

The box. It was coming up, the red flashing lights, the alarm blaring, everything feeling the exact same as it did when both of them came up, the memory still remaining in each of their brains. In both of their minds, replayed the last moment they shared with each other, their last kiss before Linnea was put into the maze, their last I love you. Their last last. The lasting love, Thomas's love of his life taken away from him, everything that ever mattered to him taken from him. Linnea being put in an unfamiliar place that she with her friends had been forced to design, with no memory whatsoever. But somehow, somehow, this came to both of them in that dream. The same words that were in their dream the night before rang in their minds once again. The same, older, blonde woman repeating  the words. "Wicked is good." Something was different in one of their minds, though. In Linnea's the same woman, who she somehow recognized as her mother, said, "You're going in the maze," and then as the blue liquid collapsed over Linnea, the words appeared out of her mouth, Linnea's vision already blurred, "I'm sorry." But in Thomas's mind, she told him, "Don't make it easy on them." What was that supposed to mean? Everything is going to change. Those words appeared out of Linnea's mouth and then after her, another girl. The last thing each of them saw, was the blood on their own hands, and then Thomas repeating the words that the woman had said, with Linnea's own screams in the background.

"Wicked is good."

Those last words made both of them awaken from their slumber, making both of them jump up from their currently shared hammock, causing each other to bump heads in the process. "Are you okay?" Thomas asked her, rubbing his head.

Linnea nodded, giving him a slight smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a weird dream. Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Thomas returned her smile, the look on his face warming up Linnea's heart, making it want to pound out of her chest. "Same, though. Strange dream."