Mokita (TST FF)

Chapter 8

Everyone stared at Janson, waiting for an answer. Thomas swallowed, his adams apple bobbing up and down, whilst he hurriedly wiped away the tears that he obviously didn't want anyone to see. Minho shook his head, running his hand through his hair whilst letting out a shaky sigh. Newt...Newt wouldn't even look at me. He had begun pacing around the common area, his eyes lit up with fear. It made me want to grab him and hold him, telling him everything would be okay. But I couldn't. I was frozen in place, my own fear consuming me.

"Not by natural causes." Janson snorted, shaking his head. I tilted my head, not understanding. "She's depressed. She's going mad. She has anxiety, and probably a tinge of bipolar. Whilst saving the world, she's destroying herself, and before she lost her memory, she was fully aware of the consequences."

"So if she dies..." Thomas trailed off, looking towards me.

Janson smirked. "It would be at her own hand."

I shuffled to the side nervously, wanting this conversation to end. Have I ever considered it? Like actually considered it? I knew that I've definitely considered throwing myself to the Grievers a few hundred times, but I wouldn't consider that...wanting to die at my own hand.

"How old was she?" A new voice asked. I pressed my lips together, turning to face Newt, who was staring at me intently.

"She had just turned eleven the week before we recruited her." Janson shrugged, lifting his book back up to his face. "Thirty-five minutes left and we initiate phase two."

"Then she wasn't fully aware of the consequences." Newt stated, his voice lowering significantly. Janson raised his eyebrows, looking up from his book.

"I assure you, Mr Newton, we very clearly outlined the consequences, and she very clearly understood." Janson narrowed his eyes at Newt, who glared right back.

"So you're telling me, that an eleven-year-old girl was fully aware that as she got older, she would one day kill herself? You're telling me that she accepted that?" Newt spat, stepping forwards towards the barrier that separated us from him. "Because I call bullshit on that. I tried to kill myself at a young age as well, and I was older than Emma, yet too young to fully understand the consequences of my actions. Even then, I had a motive. What was Emma's?"

Janson looked at his watch, before sighing and leaning back in his chair. "Her mum had caught the flare. She was slowly turning into a crank, and we told her that if she cooperated with our requests, we would continue to give her the grief serum."

"So you black mailed her?" Newt's eyes hardened, and his fists clenched at his sides.

"We gave her a motive. You wanted to end your life. She wanted to save her mothers. You had people supporting you. She had no one but her mother. I think her intention was slightly more selfless."

Newt looked towards me, a small frown on his face. "Is he telling the truth? Was your mother dying?"

I ran my tongue over my bottom lip nervously, looking around. "From what I can remember."

"And you would die for her?" Newt looked shocked, and slightly annoyed, like he couldn't believe I would give my life up for my family. I would do it in a split second if it was Thomas. I have no doubt that I would do the same for Newt, and the majority of the people in this room. The Glader's were my family now.

"She's my Mum, Newt—"

"Correction, she was your mum." Janson cut me off.

I stiffened, turning my head to face the man. He smirked at me, his dark eyes glistening mischievously. I swallowed, a sick feeling in my stomach.

"You may not remember it exactly, but you betrayed us, Emma." Janson said, placing the book onto the desk and leaning back more into his chair so that it was only on two legs. "We said we would continue to treat her if you cooperated. But then you took over Wicked just to tear it down. We stopped giving her the Bliss two years ago. By now, she's either dead, or much, much worse."

Before I could even react, Thomas had his arms around me, burying his face into his neck. "I'm so sorry, Em. I'm so sorry. You don't have to do it to yourself anymore."

Janson's words ran through my head over and over as I tried to focus on what Thomas repeated in my ear. I blinked, slowly and hesitantly reciprocating the embrace. Pressing my lips together, I squeezed my eyes shut. Crank. The only thing worse than death in the new world. Something that would make you beg for death, like the people who tried to break in. Something that I could have prevented my mother to succumbing to. So why did I stop 'cooperating'?

"You don't have to save anyone anymore, except yourself." Thomas muttered, his voice breaking. I could tell that he was crying. He had been crying before he found out that my mother was dead. I would cry too if I found out that Thomas was dying. Right now, however, I couldn't do anything, especially cry. Instead, I just stared blankly at the spot behind my brother, watching as the other Glader's went back to eating their apples and other food. I was hungry, but I knew that if I would take a bite of anything, I would throw it back up again.

"Emma, if you die, I'll kill you!" Ben exclaimed, his body suddenly pressed against my back in a weird hug. "Just joking, but you get the moral of the story."

I said nothing, a small smile playing on my lips.

I've lost a lot in the past couple of years, but I've gained a lot as well. I still had a family.

"If you want, I could be your new mum." Ben laughed, pulling back. Thomas did the same, whacking him over the back of his head.

A very screwed up family.