One Lucky Winner

Chapter 71 ~ Thomas

Day 7
9:43 PM

"You're going to be perfectly fine, Tommy. Just keep going," Newt croaks.

"Are you sure?" I say. No reply.

"Newt?!"

The sound of a cannon startles me. I look up and see Newt. He soon disappears in the sky and I'm left in darkness.

I stare at Newt's dead body, my heart frozen. It feels a lot like I did when Minho died. So sad I'm numb.

He's dead.

I don't believe it. He's not dead.

He's gone.

No, he's not.

I tell the voice to shut up. I can't deny this. Newt is dead. Minho is dead. I have no allies. I have no supplies. I'm in the worse case scenario.

No one's around, so I cry. I curl up in a ball and sob. Like a baby. I don't think I've ever cried this hard in my life. Not when Chuck died, not when Minho died. Back then Newt was there. Newt was always there. Now he's gone. I have no one. I feel so alone, so afraid. There's no left here that cares about me. I'm on my own.

After ten minutes or so, I take a deep breath and wipe my eyes with my sleeve. I lay down in the snow, next to my dead best friend, and try to clear my mind and calm down.

I slowly stand up, feeling shaky, weak, and hungry. I look at Newt in the snow. He was so conservative. He hardly let any of his feelings show. I hardly ever saw him cry before. Not when Hermione betrayed us, not when he told me about his suicide. He kept us going. From now on, I want to be like that. I want to shove everything down, no matter how much it hurts. I hate crying and being sad. I need to stay positive. Newt was always positive, or at least he tried to be.

I take a deep breath. "I'll be fine. I'll keep going," I say out loud, because those were Newt's last words to me. They have to be true. Everything going to be fine. I'll find food and shelter and, if I'm lucky, an ally.

No one will agree to be allies with you, a voice in my head argues with me. You got a nine. You suck.

I try to ignore it. I'm sure there's someone out there who will be willing to.

Yeah, sure. Everyone's first choice is always the dumb shank with nothing, not even an ally.

I tell that voice inside my head to shut up. I stop having a conversation with myself before the negativity can respond. I sniff and walk over to Hermione, looking at her. Do I really believe it was all Harry? I'm not sure. She's still a witch to me, but I have always had a bad feeling about Harry.

I just can't believe she kissed him. It's kind of creepy, but I wish I was there to see it. How the hell does Newt get kissed before me?

I get once last glance at Newt before walking away. I take a deep breath and stride through the woods, carrying absolutely nothing except Chuck's wooden figure and a single gun.

Then I make the mistake of looking down at my hands and seeing dried blood.

Newt's blood.

I collapse down and run my hands through the snow, to wash it. I try to contain the tears but I fail. They fall from my eyes before I know it, and soon enough I'm having my second crying spell. I cry like a baby. Like a kid. I am a baby. I've never felt worse about myself.