Forget (A Maze Runner/Newt Fanfiction)

18-Cut

(A/N): TRIGGER WARNING FOR SELF HARM

Ky's POV:

I pull up my sleeve on the arm in the sling, exposing my bare wrist. I stare at the shiny metal object in my hand, then put it to my skin. In one quick motion, I press down and slide the blade across my skin. Blood immediately streams out of the deep wound. I gape at my own dark blood. A sick smile appears on my face. I put the blade to my skin and draw another line. I repeat the process until there are red lines up and down my forearm and wrist.

Suddenly, my senses come back to me. With a shaking hand, I drop the knife and clutch my steadily bleeding arm.

Shit shit shit, what have I done? Oh my god. How am I going to hide this?!

I pull my sleeve back down, then start to panic and hyperventilate. My body shakes violently and my head spins.

No. Not a panic attack. Not now. No.

I struggle to find my breath as I clumsily fall out of the tree, not helped by the fact I only have one good arm. I stand up, still panicking, and head to my hammock.

I can barely think straight, let alone walk straight and end up bumping into Newt's hammock.

Newt wakes up and sees me leaned over panting.

"What's wrong, love?" he whispers quietly.

He must see the panic in my eyes, because he gets up and sits beside me, comforting me and patting my back.

"Okay, listen to me Ky. I want you to focus on your breathing. Deep breaths. In and out. In and out. In and out."

Once Newt has helped me calm down, he turns to face me.

"So why were you having a panic attack?"

My mind races for an excuse.

"I...uh...I had a nightmare", I say.

UGH MORE LIES!!! I scream at myself internally.

"Oh, I'm sorry, love," Newt says. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

I shake my head.

"No, I'm fine now, thanks."

I get up and snuggle into my hammock, pretending to relax even though my body aches and burns.

I can't help but to catch Newt's hurt expression as I get up. He shrugs to himself, wiping a hand across his face, and stands as well.

Kissing me on the forehead, he whispers, "Goodnight", and gets back into his own hammock.

I'm sorry, Newt. I hate lying to you like this, I think, making sure the telepathy is off.

With that, I shut my eyes and sleep a dreamless sleep.

Word count: 417