Newt imagines 2

13 reasons why

Newt marched through the glade his friends running after him.

"Newt man," Thomas jumped in front of him blocking his way. "I don't think these are good anymore."

"Yeah I don't want to agree with this slinthead but he's right you can't just go punching your way through the glade." Minho grabbed his friends shoulder having never seen him act like this. Newt had become a machine controlled by these letters.

"And what if I don't, y/n just ends up as another wooden cross in the back of the deadheads!" He screamed at his friends.

They were silent watching his heart destroying himself.

"No man, Y/n will always be different to the others." Minho whispers.

"Let's do it." Thomas takes a deep breath surprised by his own words. "All the way to the end. To the very last letter."

Newt threw his arms around him. "Thanks Tommy."

"Shuck it I'm in." Says Minho.

They made a pack then, blood brothers and letter finders. They continued their journey to the kitchens, as a squad walking in one line as one.
They bursted through the kitchen doors.

"What's going on?" Frypan screamed, his flowery apron white with flour and a ladle waving round in his hand.

"Don't worry Fry, we are just looking for a letter." Minho flipped over the table while Newt ransacked the cupboards. "Got it!" Minho screamed waving it around in the air.

Newt snatched it from him and took a seat at one of the picnic benches outside. He was fumbling round with the opening his fingers shaking like a nervous puppy. The others were scared he was going to wet himself.

It wasn't unknown that I've always had an exceptionally low self esteem. That I hated by body most of the time and was always trying out a new form of diet. Low carb. Low fat. No sugar. Calorie count. I used to talk about it as we ran. Do you remember Minho? 

-Flashback-
Minho was running a gentle jog tired from a hard days run. Now all he had to do was get back to the glade. Y/n was besides him all the way, a smile on her face.

"Hope Fry's cooking something that not klunk tonight." She laughed.

"Yeah heard its spag boll. I want a bowl so big it overflows with spaghetti and juicy meat sauce with so much cheese." He responded the smell already filling his nose as he thought of it.

She groaned. "Maybe I'll just have a salad." He could tell she was talking to herself. She always did when running.

"What!" He stopped. "Your joking right?"

"No, it's proven that it's actually carbs that make you fat more than sugar. So I'll stick to a salad." She continued running.

"Fine eat what you want but I'm telling you this temple of a body is built on pasta."
-end of flashback-

"Dude don't blame me, you guys knew she was like this." Minho backed himself up.

How do you think it feels to look in the mirror hate your body and then to hear it from someone in the worst place possible. How do you think it feels Frypan?

Flashback
I was late to dinner. As normal. It wasn't for any real reason, just the normal getting cleaned up after a long days running. I had glanced in the mirror wanting to wear a pair of black shorts but the horrible shiny thing reminded me of my legs. The weird shaped, fat things. So I slipped on some boyfriend jeans.

Newt and the others waved to me from the table. Newt showing me a seat next to him he had saved. It made my heart glow having a friend like him.

After having dodged Gally and his latest manipulated greenie I joined the back of the small queue. When I got there Frypan was serving.

"So y/n should I half your portion or are you just going to continue growing outwards?" He smiled and handed me a half portion. "I'm messing with you girl." He laughed as I walked away frowning at my food.

I knew he was joking but actually giving me a half portion made it hurt. I sat next to Newt.
"Hey since when did you and Fry become friends?" He nudged my shoulder. I faked a smiled. What did I do to deserve this so called friendship with Frypan?
-End-

Newt and Thomas grabbed Minho's arms pulling him back down. They all gritted their teeth watching Fry's every movement. He noticed them and came over.
"Did you laugh at y/n when she got her food?" Minho spat at him.

Frypan gulped. "What?"

Newt stood up towering himself over the hairy cook. "Answer the question or my bloody fist is going to get it out of you."

Frypan gulped again, sweat dripping down his forehead. "I joked around a bit, but it was only friendly."

"Friendly enough to kill her." Minho spat again joining Newt.

Frypan was shocked and pained. "I killed her? Oh klunk, Newt, Minho, Thomas please I never meant to hurt her. I'm so so sorry." The cook broke down, his tear soaking his floured apron, he clung onto Newt's arm falling to his knees. Newt clenched his jaw, a throb at the back of his throat was pounding. He was going to cry. He knew he shouldn't cry at each letter, but it was going to be hard, it was hard. Newt stalked off, the others having no will to follow. Minho and Thomas going to hide their emotion in the map room. y/n's letter turning two nice gladers into assholes and one asshole into a dickhead. Really they just made Newt feel empty, a girl he cared about so much it shattered him when she got a splinter, turned out to be a mask hiding these horrible crimes.