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❝ that's why he was so lost❞
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The boy stared at the screens. Shades of blue and white reflected across the walls and floors of the spacious laboratory room. The sounds of typing, electronic pinging of the newly developed screen technology and footsteps of determination echoed in his ears. All of the information collected and stored in this technology was flashing in front of his eyes. Everything he had figured out with his own mind was right before his eyes. Several screens, showing the barren Glade had become a more important part of his repetitive life.
He had been focusing on one young boy from this experiment. A broken one with dark emotions and a sorrowful soul. Each day, as soon as he woke up, he got dressed and left straight for the screens, breakfast on the table, waiting to be eaten as he watched. It was more watching him, hoping he would find a way to break from the screaming voices telling him to end it all.
It broke his heart into thousands of pieces.
He cared about the Glader. Ever since he was sent up in the box, the boy looked out for him. All he wanted was for him to be safe.
He wanted Newt to be safe.
"Tom." The girl with the name of Teresa, said softly, as she walked over to the boy, placing a hand on his broad shoulder. His reaction was simple. Just a small glance down at her. Teresa could sense something was different about him. His bright and bubbly personality had suddenly grown cold and miserable.
"Thomas, what is going on with you?" Teresa said sternly to the boy staring at the live films of Maze A and B. She was worried for him. She wanted to know why he kept staring at the screens. She wanted to know why he kept watching the footage of the mazes he helped create. Was he not proud of his work?
"Teresa, why are we doing this?" The girl didn't want to answer that question. But she knew that if they kept doing this, they'd find a cure. A cure for the deadly virus spreading over the world. They'll never stop until they find that cure.
"Tom, don't worry." Was all she said as she dropped her arm by her side.
"Why is all of this necessary? Isn't there an easier way?" The boy looked down at her, his glance fixed on her. His stare intimidated her.
When Teresa looked into his eyes, she saw fear and sorrow. His brown eyes weren't cheerful, like they used to be when the two of them would chat as thirteen year olds.
Teresa missed those days.
She missed the days where her and the boy would talk about the strange things in life. She missed the days where they'd looks for loose items sitting around and the items were used to create a 'masterpiece'. She missed the days when the boy would make the most beautiful artworks for her.
She missed the old Thomas.
That Thomas was nowhere to be found.
"I'm afraid this is the only way, Tom." Teresa said sorrowfully, hanging her head. A loud sigh escaped the boy's mouth as he turned away from Teresa. Guilt rushed through her body, seeing how upset her best friend was. It had to be done though. This was the only way to find the cure.
When she looked up again, Thomas was gone. She didn't even hear him walk away from her.
After taking a short breath, Teresa shoved her hand into the pocket of her pale jeans, wrapping her fingers around the material of the crumpled paper, folded up exactly six times.
The piece was drawn out of her small pocket and she began to unfold it. When the paper was fully drawn out, her blue eyes scanned the page filled with lines from a sharp lead pencil.
Teresa always kept this particular drawing in her pocket. She was hoping for a meaning of why the boy drew this for her.
It confused her.
Her fingers ran across the lines which created the sharp jawline of the person. Then she touched the lines of the messy hair on the person's forehead. Blue eyes followed the gaze of the boy's dark eyes, looking out into the distance. Every slight detail could clearly be seen displayed on the white paper.
Teresa pursed her lips together in confusion. This boy looked familiar. She couldn't quite make out who exactly the face belonged to. Thomas had drawn the picture in an abstract style, slightly distorting the face of the mysterious man.
When her eyes left the page to greet the bright screens, she noticed something.
A fuzzy figure, sitting against a tree. It was a boy. Crying. His messy hair was pushed around in different directions and his jawline was sharp. His eyes were hidden in his hands. That's when it hit Teresa.
Thomas drew a picture of this boy.
Newt.
One of her friends from the many subjects being prepared to be sent up into the Maze.
It all hit her like a truck. The constant patterns of Thomas' life came to her. How he watched the screens constantly and said nothing. He was watching Newt. Their friend from the many years.
Teresa scrunched the paper up in her hands, holding it in her fist. Her eyes stayed on Newt, behind the screens.
Teresa felt like a complete idiot.
Thomas needed Newt.
That's why he felt so lost.
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merry christmas fellow readers! my present to you is this prologue of my newtmas fanfic 'lost'! many of you have been waiting for this story and it is finally here!
i have rewritten this story so it may be different to the previous time you may have read it!
