Abused ≫ Newt [2]

Chapter 1.

Abuse [əˈbyo͞oz]
verb
1. use (something) to bad effect or for a bad cause; misuse
2. treat (a person or an animal) with cruelty or violence, especially regularly or repeatedly
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She lay there on the cold, stone ground, half awake, half asleep. Barely aware of the things going on around her. A cool wind blew, echoing off the cracked, ivy-covered walls. The setting sun casted an eerie glow to the Maze, causing shadows of non-existent monsters to dance along the wall.
Images flashed in her vision. Black and white, blurry, but she recognized them all the same. They were her. Younger, with her family. She was smiling- happy. Then the kids. Their faces solemn, staring blankly at a screen.
The images moved fast. So fast that she barely had any time to process them. It was like her own personal movie, replaying her life in her mind.
People say that before you die, your whole life flashes before your eyes. Perhaps that's what was happening. She was near the end. She was going to die.
She felt an odd sense of peace wash over her, and she relaxed against the cold stone wall. The sun had nearly disappeared from the sky, casting the Maze into an eerie darkness.
Perhaps it was easier this way, if she just died. No more pain. No more suffering. No more voices, visions. Dreams.
No more Glade. No more Newt. She would miss him, her heart twisted in her chest just thinking about it. But she knew he wouldn't ponder on it. He had a new authority in the Glade now- second in command. He would forget about her. He's done it before, he could do it again.
But, the thing was, she didn't want him to forget about her. Perhaps she could find a way, in her afterlife, to see him again. She knew she was being stupid, that there was no way that was possible. It just calmed her, lying to herself.
She wondered what he was doing right now. Was he sad- crying? Or was he going on with his normal business, eating dinner with the other Gladers- already forgetting about her.
She realized that the boy- whoever he was- was right. She did love Newt. She loved him very much. But she never got the chance to tell him that, and she never would.
She didn't have too much time to ponder on the thought, as she slowly felt herself slipping into a peaceful state, darkness.
A long, dreadful screech brought her back to her senses, followed by a series of clicking. Though her eyes remained closed, she knew that the Grievers were awake, roaring to life somewhere deep within the Maze. Another moan echoed off the towering walls, sounding as if it were coming from anywhere and everywhere at once.
She felt an odd surge of energy rush through her, her mind no longer feeling fuzzy, her eyes shooting open as a voice- the boy's voice- whispered in her mind.
"You've got to run, Emily."

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-3rd POV-

The sound of stone grinding against stone came from deep within the Maze, followed by the all-too familiar screech of a Griever.
Newt slid down the wall, buried his face in his hands. His shoulders shook with sobs, his head spun, his mind fuzzy. He couldn't process anything; he barely even noticed Minho taking a seat next to him. All he could think about was her.
The way her eyes stared pleadingly into his, begging for him to do something- anything. And yet he did nothing. He just stood there like a coward, watched as she was sent to her death. He should've done something. He regretted it so badly now that he lost her. He would never see her again. He would never look into her beautiful green eyes, or feel her soft lips against his. It was all over. She was gone. And it was all because he did nothing.
He was nothing more than a coward. A shuck coward. He should be out in the Maze, being torn apart by grievers, not her. Him. Not her. She didn't deserve it. She was too innocent... She was his, and now she was gone.
He could still see her face, fresh in her mind as if she were right in front of him. He could hear her voice, talking to him softly late at night as they lay under the trees in the forest. He could hear her laugh, see the way her eyes crinkled in the corners when she smiled. And her eyes... those beautiful eyes. They were the most perfect shade of green, one that had become his favorite. He could get lost in them so easily, and he did. He would miss those eyes so much. He would miss her smile and her laugh and her voice. He missed her.
His chest ached and another sob shook his body as he thought of her. He loved her. He loved her so much, and he never got the chance to tell her that. He never would. He would never see her again.
The moment Minho lifted her out of the Box, he felt a strong connection to her. The night she arrived in the Glade, he had dreams of her. No, not dreams- memories. He knew they were memories. They felt so real- so familiar. They happened, they really did. They knew each other before the Glade. They were together before the Glade. He remembered them walking through the snow one day, the day before Newt was sent into the Maze. He told her he loved her that day. And she said it back. They loved each other before the Glade. And he loved her now.
"Maybe she's different." Minho's scratchy voice pulled him back into reality. He lifted his head, his cheeks sticky with tears, and looked over at his friend. Tears fell from Minho's bloodshot eyes, his cheeks flushed. He was obviously taking this hard, just like Newt was.
How could Alby be so cold- so unforgiving? George raped her. He molested her, hurt her. He deserved what he got. Why couldn't Alby understand that? He felt a fresh surge of anger towards the boy he once called his friend. They arrived in the Glade together, built this place together. He thought he could count on him to be there, to help Newt whenever he needed it. He would never forgive him for what he did. For what he took away from him.
"She's a survivor, I could always tell," Minho croaked, wiping a tear from his eyes. "Maybe she'll possess some badass survival skills and make it out. She has to."
Newt's lips curled into a small smile, though it disappeared as quickly as it appeared. Even if the darkness moments, Minho always found a way to make him smile. He appreciated it, he really did. Though the happiness was soon ripped away from him as he thought of her running through the Maze. She was so helpless... She had no idea what to expect out there. She was too innocent. He tried to save her from experiencing the horrors of the Maze by making her a Med-Jack. But his efforts were waisted now.
Another sob shook his body and his shook his head violently.
"She's gone, Minho." His throat burned as he spoke, the aftermath of the screaming fit he had earlier that night. "I lost her."
"You loved her," Minho stated. He wrapped his arms around his friend's shoulders. "It's not fair to you, man."
Stop being such a baby, Newtie. Pick your cute little head up, I'm not gone yet.
Newt could've sworn her heard her voice in his head. Though it was gone in a mere second, with no sign that it was there in the first place. He was going crazy, he knew it. Before he knew it, he would start seeing her in front of him.
He lowered his head, burying his face into his knees. His eyes ached with tiredness, though he refused to sleep. Not with the small chance that Emily would survive the night. He had to stay awake for her.
Though his deserate attempts to fight sleep failed, and he ended up falling into a deep slumber. He thought he would be able to escape the thoughts of her in his sleep but, of course, her beautiful face haunted his dreams.
He dreamt of them, together, before the Maze. No, he didn't dream. He remembered. They were sitting under a tree, Emily between his legs, her head resting on his chest. Leaves fell around them, a cool wind blew. It was the middle of autumn, and the weather was beginning to cool.
Seattle healed itself quickly after the Sun Flares, somewhat returning to it's normal climate. Though it still had abnormally hot summers, they were lucky to get cool winters, even sometimes a few feet on snow.
Newt ran his hand through Emily's hair, her eyes closed, her lips curled into a small smile. He stared down at her, couldn't help the smile that crept on to his face. She was his now. Only his. He would never loose her. They were going to be together, no matter what. He was sure of that.
"You know, it's rude to stare." Her soft voice brought him out of his daze. He realized that her eyes were now open, staring up at him. A small laugh escaped her lips as he felt his cheeks heat up. He always found himself blushing around her, and he absolutely hated it.
"Sorry," he murmured, pulling his gaze from hers. She brought her hands up, rested them on either side of his face, and forced him to look at him.
"That doesn't mean stop," she said. "I like staring into your pretty little eyes."
Newt smiled, a feeling of warmth burning inside him as she entwined their hands. She played with his fingers, something she loved to do.
"You're beautiful, you know that?" He found himself saying. He didn't really mean to, it kind of slipped out. He tended to speak his mind a lot, without really thinking about it. But after a smile spread across her lips, he was glad he had that problem. He loved her smile, and he loved making her smile.
"And you're handsome," she replied. "Extremely handsome."
She sat up and turned around to look at him. Her eyes burned into his, and it took everything he had in him to not fall into yet another daydream.
"Can I tell you something?"
"Of course," Emily said.
He thought for a moment, whether he really wanted to say what was on his mind. Was it too soon? Would she believe him?
Fuck it, he thought. He meant it, and he wanted her to know it. Of course he was going to tell her.
"I-" He cut himself off, pursed his lips. "I think I'm in love with you."
Emily stared at him for a moment, her expression unreadable. Her lips suddenly curled into a smile, a blush turning her cheeks a bright shade of pink.
"You know what?" she said.
"What?"
"I think I'm in love with you, too." She leaned up and pressed her lips against his. Electricity immediately shot through him as her lips collided with his. He wrapped his arms around her body, pulling her closer to him. Their lips moved in sync, his heartbeat racing a million times a minute. It was true, he loved her. He loved her.

Newt was woken up by a low grinding sound. Sunlight immediately blinded his vision as he opened his eyes. Beside him, Minho was wide awake. Standing up, staring at the door in front of him with hopeful eyes. Newt knew what the grinding sound was. The Doors were opening. He shot up, steadying himself as he lost his balance.
A small group of boys crowded around the door. Clint and Jeff were there, and Gally, too. The Builder was shaky on his feet, his skin still pale. But he looked towards the Door, the same hopeful expression on his face as the rest of them. His eyebrows were furrowed together, making them seem ever more arched them usual.
There was a low mechanical screech, and Newt turned to see the Doors finally begin moving. It seemed as if time stood still, the Doors moving at a snail's pace, as he waited to see what was on the other side. He closed his eyes, hoping and praying that Emily would be waiting for them. Okay, unharmed. Alive.
Finally, after seemed what lifetimes, there was a large enough gap in the door for a person to squeeze through. Newt immediately acted, taking the opportunity, and began squeezing his way through the gap. Minho called after him, but he ignored him. If she was alive, he had to see her. His face had to be the first she saw.
Though as he took his first step into the Maze, he saw nothing but the cracked, ivy-covered stone walls. He took a step forward, his voice ringing off the walls as he called out.
"Emily!"
His foot hit something as he took another step. He looked down, only to have his heart leap in his chest at what he saw. There, laying on the cold stone ground, was Emily.
He knelt down beside her, a single tear leaking from his eye as he held her body in his arms. Her skin was deathly pale, dark veins running up and down her body. His stomach clenched as he saw several griever stings all over her body. Red, irritated skin and dried blood circled each and every one of the wounds, dark, raised veins leading off of them. There was no way she could've survived so many griever stings.
How could the Creators be so cruel?
Newt buried his head in her hair, sobs shaking her shoulders as he kissed her. And then he felt it.
The faint rise and fall of her chest. He heard her heartbeat. Faint, slow, but there.
She was alive.
His Emily was alive.

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AND SCENE.
Omg the first chapter is done :D
Emily's alive guys, who would've known? I mean, I could've totally written a sequel for a Nemily fanfiction with her being dead, pfft.
Some stupid ninjas were cutting onions in my room while I was writing this chapter. It made my eyes water so much omg. Especially when Newt was crying and thinking of her in the beginning. People would've assumed I was crying. I wasn't of course. Pfft, of course not.... /.\
I think I may write this story in 3rd POV, only because I write better. But who knows. I liked writing in Emily's POV, because it captured her whole experience better. So we'll see.
I hope you guys enjoyed the very first chapter of Abused.
Until next time, my lovelies <3