SONDER (IV): tmr thomas

014: I should trust WICKED

Dawn 14

"Are you good?" Minho whispers to me, while Thomas gathers the rest of the group.

I don't look over at him, instead nodding forward. My hand snakes around my stomach, gripping it tightly. Sometimes, I forget that there was a baby inside me, one that was half me and half Minho. What does it say about us that it died? I wouldn't make a good mother, I realize, as I turn my attention to the ceiling above us.

To be honest, this world is so awful that I probably wouldn't be good at anything that I try.

"You can talk about it," Minho leans in closer, his lips grazing my ear.

I lean into him, my eyes fluttering shut. "I swear I'm fine."

Finally, Lott pulls up to the group. He scowls, but he stands in a circle with us. The ten of us are crowded in a circle while Jorge pilots the plane forward.

"So, Thomas," Leo looks over at the boy, a weak smile on her face. I wait for her to continue, but she doesn't. "What's up?"

"I've been having dreams," Thomas continues for her, scanning the faces. He settles looking at Leo after passing over the rest of us. "Well, I guess they are memories. Like, I remember WICKED taking me from my mother when they discovered I was immune. My Dad was already long dead from the Flare, and my Mom was on her way out. I remember training with Teresa. WICKED would make me repeat mantras about how shucking great they are whenever I would start to doubt the cause." Thomas trails off, looking to Leo.

"Is that everything?" Minho asks. Is his hand slipping from mine, or am I imagining things.

Thomas shrugs his shoulders, and then nods. "Basically, yeah."

The group stands together. Lott nods to himself, and then walks off. No one bothers him, and I am so glad. Crank or not, Lott is a ticking time bomb. Shuck, I really don't get how we are, in anyway, related to each other. I mean, we are supposed to be the same, right?

Am I going to end up like him? Or worse, am I already exactly like him and I just haven't noticed yet. I think that could be the most terrifying revelation of the month.

"Why are you telling us this now?" Leo prompts Thomas. The boy just offers a shrug in return.

"It's worth knowing what we are up against," Jay jumps in, with his arms crossed over his chest. The guy is so pompous sometimes (really, all the time). I doubt how any of us can stand him. "I mean, we are really missing a lot, not knowing our memories."

Minho pulls himself away from me. He straightens his spine, his chest pointing out consequently. "I am definitely good not to know klunk about the past. Those shucking scientists can keep every memory I have of Teresa locked away in a safe. She's more toxic than the Flare."

"She makes Michelle seems like a Princess," Newt jokes. I smile with him, though Leo stiffens. Sometimes, (all the time), I think she needs to lighten up.

Michelle lifts her head. She sneers at Newt. It's halfway between intimidating and childish, the look balancing between her tiny stature and the massive scar across her face. Gally got her good back in the Glade. Shuck, that feels like forever ago. It was about halfway through my life ago.

Maybe it actually was halfway through my entire life. Since I'm getting the Flare, I might die soon. I mean, I've always been pretty aware of my own mortality, but I'm decently lucky. Only a few people I've known well have died. Dave, Frankie, and Joe. For the most part, I've avoided questioning my own death. I can't believe I've pulled so many dangerous stunts in the past, like climbing the walls. The thrills were worth it.