To Forget The Unforgettable

Chapter 5

A/N: Hi guys! First of all, I'm going to apologise for not uploading in over two months! The draft for this chapter was finished about a month ago but I never got a chance to edit it till now, so sorry about that. The next chapter's also written and just needs editing so that will be up within a week :) 

It was the door again.

Ruth's arm instinctively reached up to push against the weathered paint. A large creak echoed along the hallway behind it. She stepped over the threshold, her shoes tapping on the wooden floor.

"Ruth." A voice said as the door slammed shut, startling Ruth.

She whipped around to see Dr Buren standing there cautiously, as if trying not to scare away an animal.

"Don't wake up. Not yet." Dr Buren said carefully. "I need to talk to you first."

Ruth's eyes narrowed. Why did she keep having this dream?

"About what?"

"WICKED." Dr Buren motioned to an armchair; they were suddenly in a quaint living room with soft sunlight filtering through the windows. Ruth didn't move.

"What about WICKED?"

The dream always went like this, and each time Dr Buren would respond with, "what they don't want you to know."

"You are WICKED, you're part of it!" Ruth argued, shaking her head frantically. If this was some mind game, another of WICKED's tests, she wouldn't play along. WICKED's work already consumed her days, it would not trespass into her nights. This was a dream. A dream that her head loathed; whenever she had it, her mind screamed that everything was wrong. It wanted to escape.

"Ruth," Dr Buren pressed her hands onto the girl's shoulders, "this is real, this conversation is real. I know it doesn't feel right but you have to fight the feeling."

Ruth's head started to pound as Dr Buren spoke, the words echoing in her head as they began to warp and distort. Her surroundings faded, as did Dr Buren's pleas.

Ruth inhaled sharply as her eyes snapped open.

Her room was still. No sound but her shallow breathing filled the air. Pulling herself together, Ruth checked the clock on her nightstand. She groaned. It was only four o'clock. Three hours till she was allowed to leave the room and start her day. It would be futile to try and get back to sleep; it was always the same after that dream.

Since the dreams began, Ruth had seen Dr Buren in person a few times. However, the woman had made no hint or reference towards them, and Ruth wasn't going to bring the matter up. She didn't want anyone to think she was going mad. Nobody knew she had the recurring dreams although Newt, being Newt, had realised something wasn't quite right. All she told him was that she was having trouble sleeping. He'd sensed there was more to it and reminded her that she could tell him anything. Ruth had assured him everything was fine and Newt, being Newt, didn't push her.

She trusted him. Completely. If she could, she would have told him absolutely everything. But in their world, it was better to be cautious. It was safer that way. When she worked out what was going on with the dreams, then she would talk to him.

Ruth rolled over, grinning into her pillow as she pictured Newt's concerned face. How was it possible to be so darn adorable?

Months since their first kiss, Newt still gave Ruth unfathomable butterflies. The only downside to being so impossibly happy, was the daunting prospect of the Maze Trials. The mere notion sent a pang through her chest. Five years. Five whole years of being apart. She didn't know exactly how far away the trials were, but she guessed about a year.