The Safe Haven

The Past

We were just outside of the hut, sitting by a fire, looking over the city. It had become dust and ash now. Every building was torn down and vanquished. It was just me and Newt. My eyes wondered over the burning city, wondering if there were people scavenging the streets.

"Thank you." The British boy muttered.

I chuckled to myself, feeling appreciated.

"So if you went into the city to save your friend, you can't be apart of Wicked. Where did you come from?"

He inhaled sharply.

"My friends and I were apart of an experiment, I suppose. Wicked put us into this maze, testing us, they would call it. But it was torture. I saw friends killed and lose themselves to the flare. It was bloody torture. But Thomas and I, we made it out with our friends. He lead us out. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him."

Newt's eyes trailed off into another world. His eyes glazed with fear and hope. It's one thing we had in common, we knew the feeling of losing someone you cared about.

"What about you?" He asked. I suppose he was trying to keep away his thoughts.

I shrugged,"I was born far away from here and was brought to this horrid desert when Wicked soldiers found my family and took me away, but not before they.." I stopped. This was the hardest part of the story. "But not before they killed them all." I began to play with a stick and continued. "They eventually brought me here."

Newt nodded his head. Giving assurance that he understood and was listening. He was the first person I had ever brought home. It felt good having someone to talk to. To my surprise I felt an arm wrap around my shoulders. I jumped at the contact of another, it had been so long since anyone had touched me. But I trusted this boy. We both leaned into each other and embraced in a gentle hug. I didn't see his face, but I could tell he was crying. His body was shaking and hushed cries could be heard coming from his lips. I hugged tighter, not knowing what to say to someone who was crying.