pretty eyes ~ newt

chapter 11: trauma

TW: mentions of attempted suicide and self-harm

"i was just a girl, what's the excuse now?"
conplex, katie gregson-macleod
—

I sit on the floor crosslegged, watching the small fire inside our tent flickering lightly. The tent that Newt and I chose is relatively spacious, and we've laid out various blankets and pillows into two makeshift beds.

My eyes wander to where he sits comfortably beside me, nervously rubbing my wrist with the pad of my thumb. I know I should warn Newt about my night terrors sooner rather than later, but now that the time has actually come, I can't bring myself to bring the subject up.

I let out a long breath, eyes flicking anxiously to Newt. He doesn't seem to have noticed my internal struggle, absentmindedly threading his fingers through his blonde hair. It's getting longer now, messily falling just over his brown eyes.

The silence stretches out for a moment more, almost unbearable in its intensity as I'm mentally readying myself to tell Newt, before he breaks it first.

"Alright, I'm gonna head to bed now then," he mumbles, sending me a small smile before promptly climbing into one of the beds. I hesitate, before nodding hurriedly and giving him a quick smile back.

"Me too," I reply, inwardly berating myself for not just spitting it out earlier. Oh well, I guess. If it happens, it happens. No use worrying about my stupid nightmares if they might not even happen.

I heave a long sigh, standing to my feet and tucking myself into the other bed. I turn on my side and curl my legs into my chest, praying that my memories from the maze won't haunt me in my dreams tonight.

I force my uneven breathing to slow, closing my eyes and willing sleep to take over.

"Isa?" I hear a female voice call.

I squeeze my eyes shut, knowing who it belongs to immediately.

Gracie. The girl who gave me the nickname in the first place, and who saved me in every way a person could be saved.

This isn't real. I know it isn't, I know she's long gone, but at the same time I can't help myself from turning my head instinctively just to see a glimpse of her face once again.

Beautiful blonde hair frames her small face, soft features smiling sweetly at me. "Isa? Is that you?"

My heart clenches with pain, that familiar dull ache pounding at my soul. I feel my eyes start to burn with tears, a single droplet slipping down my face at the sight of her.

"Gracie—Gracie, I'm so sorry." I hear myself plead. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you in time. You shouldn't have been the one to die, it was supposed to be me. If only I could go back in time, I would've died a thousand times over to save you."

She only stares back at me, an unreadable expression on her face. I falter at the look in her eyes, feeling a sour twinge of hurt strike my heart as my eyes roam across her features.

Stone cold, a cruel smile twists her delicate features as she watches me with a sort of pity. This isn't the usual nightmare, I realize. It's far worse.

"Oh darling, you shouldn't have brought that up." She scoffs in disdain, her tone derisive. "You'll only break your poor little heart more."

I feel unbearably small. Her fragile frame seems somehow to loom over me, and her cold brown eyes—once so warm—cut into mine like a million small knives. I fix my eyes on the ground beneath me in shame, unable to meet her spiteful gaze any longer.