26) Finally Returned

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The teenagers who brought me to WCKD drove me back to the spot they had picked me up in the morning. Of course they all talked about what they would spend their newfound wealth on, choosing to think nothing of my injuries after I cleaned myself up a little. They also know the “the less you know the better” rule out here.

I still look awful. I was still busted up and covered in bruises and scrapes. I had blood on my skin and rips in my clothes. I was in pain and my face was streaked with tears that I kept wiping. I look like hell, and I felt exactly like it too.

Still, I kept taking deep breaths as I made my way back to the place I had so desperately ran away from.

And unfortunately, to the one person I was so determined to keep away.

With the sun barely rising, it was easy to assume everyone was still asleep. I would hope so at least. Or they were gone again.

That would mean no Aris, but I don't have him anyway. I made it clear I wanted nothing to do with him, even though he was all I wanted. I had screwed up my only chance of having a connection with someone worth having in my life. I ruined my only chance of someone seeing me as more despite knowing my past. I lost my only chance of being a poet.

I hate that. I hate that, and I hate myself right now. I think I have for so long.

I was in pain. Everything ached. Everything wanted me to lay down.

I didn't give in to that feeling. I kept walking and walking and walking. I rounded the corner where everything had gone wrong and kept going, still limping.

Until I was there, in the middle of the Safe Haven, emotions I wasn't ready for and was too tired to comprehend flooding through me.

To my surprise, quite a few people were up which meant they saw me just standing there, covered in mine and others blood.

“I didn't get bit,”I promised. As I should have expected, they said nothing back, too worried about what I did in a few hours.

With someone pushing their way to the front of the crowd, I recognized it as Aris. The second I actually met his eyes I didn't know how to look away while also desperately wanting to out of shame. I mean I got what I wanted I guess. He doesn't want to be around me anymore.

That didn’t seem to be quite true though as he slowly walked up to me, causing me to close my eyes as I accepted any kind of pain.

I didn't feel that. No harsh slap or angry hit.

Instead, I felt his arms around me, making me stumble for a moment before I managed to catch my balance. Despite it being almost foreign, I hugged him back, not really knowing what to do yet but accepting it anyway.

“I knew you’d come back,”He quietly admitted.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

It was the first time I had ever said anything like that, and it was the first time I truly meant it. It wasn't just pity or guilt. The way I had treated him, not just that night but so many other times, small things that built up, came to my mind. I was a bad . . . friend. I am his friend, and I was an awful one. I had hurt him.

“I’m sorry,”I whispered, my hold on to him tightening as I found myself never wanting to let go.

“It's okay. As long as you're here. As long as you're safe.”

“You can call me poet if you want. I didn't mean what I said. I panicked.”

“It's okay.”

“You need to-”
“Shut up, Vince. We’re having a moment,”I snapped, still not bothering to open my eyes.

This is good. This feels right. Life feels good for maybe the first time. Purely because of him.

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