Dear Tommy,

It Is True

With shaking hands, Thomas lowered the letter and wiped a tear from his eye. He looked through the canopy of intertwined vines to see the sky, bright and blue. The sun smiled down on him.

Thomas stood up from his bed in the roomy hut, still in disbelief. He picked up the letter and held it with caution as if it was sacred.

He traveled through the camp and into a small forest with lush, green trees and a shallow pool filled with crisp, clean water. Thomas looked over at a rock large enough for two people to sit on that stood near the pool. He approached it cautiously, as if it could hurt him. Thomas looked down.

Engraved on his rock were the words
ιт ιѕ тяυє
His cold fingers traced the letters over and over again; it is true. One, single tear fell from Thomas' eye onto the letters. He sat down.

Thomas looked at the tranquil pond and the gently swaying trees and a chipmunk that scurried into the ground. He looked at the blue sky, and then the sun. The brightly burning sun, never failing to brighten the day. Thomas thought about the sun. Newt is the sun.

There was a slight wind that picked up and rustled the trees around him. Thomas looked to his right.

Sitting next to him was a translucent figure of a boy with sandy blonde hair and brown eyes. His wide smile spread across his whole face, and a thin, golden halo encircled his head. Elegant, white wings of an angel covered his back. Newt.

Thomas couldn't move. Both angel and human simultaneously hugged each other and Thomas could do nothing but feel happiness and depression at the same time. Tears did not hold back.

Newt released the shaken boy. He still smiled at him. "It is true." Newt whispered as the wind picked up again. He looked down at the still engraved words. The trees danced reflecting lower get onto the pool and onto Thomas' face. Thomas looked to his right.

And he was gone.