𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐈𝐄

𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖 𝐎𝐍 𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑

MY FEET glided softly over the cool grass in the darkness of the night. Everybody had gone to sleep, but I couldn't. I was eluded from sleep. My mind raced through today's events, which all encircled Ben's existence. My throat was better, but the flashing image of Ben's hold on my throat was evident in my mind; vivid. The moon cast its over the Glade, gleaming over my figure and illuminating the path before me. I was thankful for the serene night under the canopy of stars. My fingers fidgeted and intertwined, caressing the rough protective skin that lined my hands. My hands were cracked and dry.

My footsteps grew quieter as I walked into the grass field. The grass gradually grew in length and sharpness as I pressed onward. The wind blew into my face and I took a deep breath, inhaling the fresher than usual air, not tainted by the overpowering scent of sweaty boys. My eyes faltered close and I stopped walking, taking the moment to sit in the meadow. The grass encapsulated me within their cavern and there I remained.

I bent my body over my knees and rested my folded arms on them, my head digging into the space between them. I felt a stretch in my neck. It was painful, but I couldn't get myself to move. Deep breaths filled my lungs as my mind continued to race. A shaky breath left the confines of my mouth and a cry broke free. Tears fell from my eyes as I sat in the tall grass. One after another, they cascaded onto my thighs, each droplet leaving behind the mark of my profound, incomprehensible emotion: Ones I couldn't understand or grasp the concept of. A whimper slipped from my mouth as my eyes clenched shut. My hair tumbled over the mountains that were my shoulders, muffling the world from my consciousness. I was alone in the Glade, crying. And I was miserable.

I cried and cried, releasing all the emotions I had swallowed for a month: The pain, the anxiety, the need to be free. I couldn't do it anymore. I'm tired. I'm tired of everything. Heat found itself to the left of my body, and I peeked open a teary eye to glimpse at who it was. I caught sight of the ankle-length boots that harbored the shade of a memory so far away from my mind. "Newt," I whispered. A soft hum followed through as he remained seated beside me. I tried to speak, but my throat was stuffed with rocks, and I only rasped out a choked sob.

"Rosalind," his voice sounded. "I'm just tired," I cut through, my voice barely louder than a rabbit's footfall.  Silence followed my words, and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to stem the dripping tears from exposing myself. The wind rustled past us, the grass poking through our thin clothing.  I could feel his presence next to me, but I couldn't bring myself to speak. I felt embarrassed to be caught crying. I shouldn't have been crying. I didn't even know why I was crying. Thomas had it worse, and Ben was banished. My problems were nothing.

Fingers grazed against my back, and the warmth of his body drew closer. Patterns were drawn onto my back as I remained in my pathetic curled position. I took a deep breath and tried to discreetly wipe away my tears. Newt's free hand rested on top of my arms, and he nuzzled his chin into my hair. He pulled me into his embrace, and I allowed myself to accept it, resting my head against his chest. The steady pounding of his heartbeat calmed me as we sat in the silent night, the moon serving as our solitary light.