Yours, Mine, Ours. | A Newtmas Story
"It's hard to forget someone who gave you so much to remember."
"Welcome to The Glade."
He heard an intelligent, deep voice come from above him. He'd just come from a metal, screeching box. Although, when it cam...
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Thomas was stunned hearing those words. His face turned a pink color. "What?" His axe was dropped below his knees, smashing to the ground and cutting through the grass.
"Your eyes, and your ears don't work.. Bloody fantastic, Tommy, really."
"This isn't the time for games, Newt! Tell me what you know!" Thomas screamed, but he was a bit embarrassed because he sounded like Chuck. Well, like a girl, let's say.
"I remember it all. I've been having dreams since the day you got here. Dreams about you, even the sandwich I made."
Thomas sat there, confused as to why he was just now getting these dreams. his jaw refusing to close. His eyes began to water as he was to intrigued to even blink,
"And yes, I still think it was delicious." Newt whispered without hesitation.
"Newt..I- We can't tell anyone about this.."
"I know. The controllers probably already know. Probably planning for some shank to come down here and chop us with our own axes whilst we speak,"
"What if we're telepathic?" "Huh?"
"You know, physics?"
"We aren't physic, Tommy."
"Well.. How would you know..?" Thomas murmured.
"Then what are we?"
"Oh, please, Tommy. i'm not all-knowing."
In my mind, you are. Thomas thought.
"Anyway. I'll tell you if I have another dream, 'right?"
"Okay.. i'll see you."
"See 'ya later. And don't think you're excused from working as a track-hoe again tomorrow! 'Cause your not!"
Newt yelled, but he knew Thomas didn't hear. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. Children. Bloody children.."
