(NOTE: CHAPTERS ARE CURRENTLY BEING EDITED)
In which Teresa wasn't the first girl to come up in the box...
*This is a NewtxOC fanfic*
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Emma wakes up in a dark box, starting her new life with only memories of her name and a boy named Thomas...
the g...
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Our questions are all the same.
Identical words.
how they feel brand new
against different time frames.
Identical words
against different time frames.
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The words drifted through Emma's mind like whispers from a forgotten memory, faint yet eerily familiar, each one pulling at something deep within her, though she couldn't put a face to any of them.
"When they put me down... when I drift off, I'll be thinking about you... it's always you."
The voice was soft, male, and filled with tenderness and sadness. The words wrapped around her like a promise, heavy with a sadness she couldn't quite place. No matter how hard she tried to picture the person speaking, all she could hear was the gentle echo of his voice, fading in and out like a distant memory.
"I'll remember you... even if it's the last thing I do, I promise." His voice lingered in the air, leaving a sense of loss in its wake, as though the promise had already been broken long ago.
"Remember, WCKD is good, Emma. You know that."
another voice cut through, a woman's voice, sharp and deliberate, with an edge of authority. Something was unsettling about the way she said it. As if the words were meant to comfort, but instead, they only deepened the confusion in Emma's mind.
"Everything's going to change."
Tom's unmistakable voice interrupted. His voice seemed so close, as if he were right beside her, yet just out of reach. The way he said it felt urgent, like a warning she was too late to heed...
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Emma woke up with a groan, her face stuck to a piece of paper on the desk. She peeled it off, rubbing the faint pencil marks imprinted on her skin and wincing at the stiffness in her neck. Daylight was already spilling through the small gaps in the walls of the homestead, hastily constructed from branches and planks, and clearly not airtight.
She blinked as she tried to shake off the remnants of sleep, wondering how the night had passed so quickly.
Ben had fallen quiet for the last few hours before dawn.
Emma wasn't sure if he'd finally succumbed to whatever sickness had overtaken him or if he'd just fallen into an exhausted sleep. Curiosity tugged at her as she left her room and peeked into his; This time the door was already open.
