《Newtmas Oneshots》

The Voices in My Head

Warning: might be triggering- depression, cutting & suicide

Newt's POV

I lay on my back in the tall grasses, gazing up at the stars. I hear the other Gladers around the campfire, laughing, just being happy. I've never fit in with the other boys. I'm not manly enough to hang around Minho, Alby, and Gally. I'm not talented enough to be with the other boys who work their asses off around this place,  trying to find a way out when in reality there isn't one. I just want it all to end. I have tried to commit suicide before, and unfortunately, I was unsuccessful. Minho found me just in time after I jumped off the walls. Now, I have my limp to remind me everyday that I can't do anything right. I felt a single tear escape from my eye. I quickly wiped it away in shame and sat up. I buried my head in my hands, trying to stop the voices in my head, until one caught my attention.

'He will never love you.'

That did it. I jumped up, and sprinted deep into the forest until I met the other wall. I leaned up against the cold stone, my tears running freely down my face. The voices in my head running freely as they were no longer blocked out.

'You're disgusting.'

'You can't do anything right.'

'Just die already.'

'Thomas will never love you.'

I slumped to the ground, the emotions overwhelming me. My hand subconsiously trailed my knife. I pulled it out and remember the late night's we had together, just me and the blade. The secrets we shared, the battles we fought and lost. I had to, I needed to. I pulled up my sleeve and traced my past scars with my fingers. I brought the blade up and sliced one single cut. I suddenly felt ecstasy, as if all of my pain and suffering were pouring out with my blood. It wasn't enough though. I brought up the blade again and cut once more. Still not enough relief. More and more and more until my entire arm was red with my blood, the ground underneath me was flooding over. I dropped the knife on the ground and sighed, closing my eyes. It felt so good, there was no sting at all, only the numb pulsing from my arm reminder me of my self inflicted wounds. I started getting light headed. This never happened before, well, I never cut this deep before. My sight started to get blurry. What was happening? I slowly stood up and shakily walked through the woods, trying to get back to the Glade. After a while of stumbling around, I heard loud shouts and heavy footsteps climbing towards me. My weak legs gave out and I fell on the hard ground.

"Newt!" Someone yelled.

It sounded like they were a million miles away. I felt strong hands pick me up and they started running somewhere, shouting something that I couldn't make out. The person set me down on a softer surface, a bed. Now, my hearing was starting to get better and I could hear what the people in the room were saying.

"What happened to his arm?" It was Minho.

"It looks like it was cut open, almost." That was Clint, one of our med-jacks.

"Is he going to be all right?" Alby.

"Thomas? Are you all right?" Minho asked.

What? Thomas was here?

"He can't die, Minho. I- I love him!" Thomas sobbed.

He loves me? How can that be? I don't deserve his love, I'm not good enough for him.

"I love Newt so much."

I needed to tell him I love him too. I tried to open my eyes, but it was like they weighed one thousand pounds. I tried to open my mouth, but it seemed like it was locked shut. I couldn't move any part of my body. I felt someone grab my hand from my good arm. I immediately knew it was Thomas from the tingles that went through my body. I concentrated on my hand, I had to give him a sign that I was here. I couldn't, I was too tired. I can just go to sleep for a bit. I'll be fine when I wake up.

***

I squint as I slowly open my eyes, the light practically blinding me. When my eyes adjusted, I could see a sleeping Thomas at my side, still holding my hand. I smiled weakly and squeezed his hand. His eyes opened tiredly, once he saw me looking at him,his eyes shot open.

"Newt! You're awake!" He smiled in relief.

"Yeah, except I got a bloody migrane though."

"The med-jacks said that you might not make it through the night. You lost a lot of blood. What happened anyway?" He asked, rubbing his thumb across the back of my hand.

"I-I don't want to talk about it." I said quickly. I turned my head away in shame and embarrassment.

"Newt, did you do that to yourself?" Thomas asked quietly, staring at my hand.

I down respond, tears gathering in my eyes as I nodded.

"I'm sorry, Tommy. I was just so sick of being alone."

"You're not alone." He whispered.

He leaned in and kissed my lips. I froze in suprise and he pulled away quickly.

"I'm sorry, I don't know where that came from. I just-"

I cut him off by grabbing his shirt and pulling him down to me again, our lips cenemeters apart.

"Don't be, Tommy. Listen to that voice in your head and kiss me."

He smiled and pressed his lips to mine.