After entering the auditorium, I was beyond relieved and elated. Everyone I know—the ones survived—including my friends swarmed me. Minho, Billy, Frypan, Jackson, even the people from Group B. You bloody name it. All except for Tommy, where he came later but still in one piece. I couldn't remember the last time I have been so purely happy.
But all that simply faded when Rat Man went down the list of not immune. My name was the first one to be called, then Jackson, then Billy, a couple of girls from Group B and even more Gladers. The Gladers...the moment I have been in this shuck mess, each of them has been there from the beginning. And to hear that they are Cranks was unbearable. People started crying, dread and sadness decanted on their faces. They were completely hopeless. I refused to believe, I really did. But something weighted on me, and I come to this myself as well: the last bit of concern I have for myself are gone. Tommy choked the moment they called my name, I told him to slim himself. No. HE can't lose hope, not them. Not when he and the others can still do something for good. I told him I don't care about having the Flare, I don't care about myself anymore, being alive till this point is completely over my head. I remember pushing out a grin instead of tears to convince him was the hardest thing I have to do. I don't even know if what I said was true or just me trying to be tough. But the confidence in my voice—which surprised me myself—seemed to make Tommy believe it's ok. But it is not, he knows it is not, but what else are there to do about it? We don't have a choice but to move on.
Rat Man offered us to get our Swipe removed, a device that is apparently preventing us from our old memories in our brains. Minho, Tommy and I were the only ones to disagree to get it removed. We don't trust them, we don't want to remember. What is now, is now. But Ratman forced us to stay in this small bedroom, until we wait for him to come back and stick tubes up our bloody noses and bring memories back that we probably could never go back to—well, at least just for us Cranks. But tomorrow—Minho promised—somehow, someway, we are going to fight back.
It is impossible to sleep, not with thoughts flying in and out. I can't see them through the darkness, but I bet Tommy and Minho are sleeping like babies by the sounds of it. I wonder how it feels to sleep knowing your sanity wouldn't slip away slowly—instead, it is safe and insured.
Then something unexpected came to me. Shocking me only when it happened, for the first time after a long while, I cried.
And I don't remember stopping until I drifted in to restless sleep.
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Before | A Newt Fanfiction
FanfictionI wrote this originally for novel study in my English class. But I decided to extend the story in to pretty much The Death Cure in Newt's perspective; what his mind and him went through during the entire journey almost up until page.250. Since I th...
