𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗥𝗨𝗡𝗡𝗘𝗥 𝗚𝗜𝗥𝗟 ᐅ 𝙣𝙚𝙬𝙩

𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗿𝘁𝘆 𝘀𝗶𝘅

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Not everyone could
make it, then.

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

The silence is thick between the two of us as we stand out in the rain. The biting cold water meanders down my back, sending an unpleasant shiver through me as I look to the sky and my face is drenched in the water, almost as though I were washing the memories of Alby, Thom and Minho from my mind. It fills me with a sadistic relief.

Newt was right.

The rain really does help you forget. You can't see anything. Not the walls, or the Homestead, not even the Gardens. I can pretend I'm not here. Anywhere but here.

I can't even see Newt through the downpour, yet I know he's there — the only thing comforting me in a world where friends die but never forgotten, like a burden on your mind of the times where life was a bit more bearable with them by your side.

What will I do without Minho's sarcasm? Or Thomas's curiosity? What will I do without Alby barking orders? I never thought I'd say those things about any of them.

I'm reminded of where I am as someone gently takes my hand in theirs, interlocking our fingers and holding it as if it were an anchor. The gesture is so familiar to me. It's the one thing that can console me throughout all of this — it's the one thing that would stop me from falling apart.

And I curse myself every day for it. I despise that I'd let myself fall for someone this easily. I loathe that he is my one weakness. But I love the happiness his company brings.

He's like fire in the winter; ice in the summer; a light in the storm and a voice in the dark. And right now, his hand is my lifeline. And for even the briefest moment, I feel completely at ease.

And then reality overshadows him.

And the two of us stare at the wall, helpless as our friends slip further and further away from us.

❀

After Newt fell asleep against the wall, I steadily make my way towards the Homestead; Clint and Jeff had been meaning to talk to me about the girl. In all the worrying about their return, all of the Gladers had forgotten about the pale girl sleeping in the Homestead.

I certainly hadn't.

She's all I've been able to think about up until Thomas decided to be a complete idiot. Who is she? Why is she here? Why did I see her?

I'm tired. My body is aching for rest, however my mind is more awake than a lion on the prowl. It's constantly whirring with thoughts, feelings... things I need to be distracted from. I think even playing card games with Hank (that he always 'mysteriously' wins) would be enough to deter my mind from the possible outcomes of the Maze.

But, as I cross the Glade, the only thing illuminating my path being the glistening stars and the dull flames in the distance, I block my thoughts out as much as I can.

I feel bad for leaving Newt by the wall, but I'll be there when he wakes up — he'll never know I was gone. As I approach the Homestead, my stomach tightens. Something doesn't feel right. I don't think anything does anymore. I shove open the door and walk up the stairs hurriedly, but then come to a pause as I hear Jeff and Clint talking in low voices.