Sapphire Stones

Plan into motion

Just like that, we've schemed our escape. Everything is set for us to get out of this hellhole that we once called our home. We have a group and supplies. We have weapons. We have a plan. We have hope.

I've packed up what remains of my meager amount of belongings into a small backpack. I even packed one of Gally's old shirts and a hoodie of his. I don't want to forget him. 

I tear out one of the poems in my journal, one I specifically wrote for him just a few days ago. I was planning to read it to him the day I was gonna tell him I loved him. Things change, though. I fold it neatly and stick it in my pocket, stuffing the notebook into my bag. 

And just like that, I'm ready to leave. I'm ready to escape. I'm ready to find a new life.

Walking away from the ruins of what I used to call my hut, I see what remains of the Glade for what seems to be the first time.

Everything is destroyed. Every building is burnt to the ground or smashed to smithereens. Smoke is still thick in the air, small fires still burning all around me. Some boys are standing in the ruins, trying to decide how they're ever going to survive like this; how they're going to start their lives over.

I notice Newt, Minho, and Frypan engrossed in a conversation they're having, so I decide not to bother them. Chuck's busy helping some of the other Gladers clean up what they can.

I see Gally by the wall of names, busy crossing the names of the deceased off the wall. I turn away.

I'm walking through the ruins when, suddenly, I see a tiny figure sprinting through the Glade towards me at full speed, a grin spread wide on his face. I drop my bag to the singed grass immediately, dropping to my knees to catch Bark as he comes leaping into my arms.

My cheeks are wet with tears as I hold him. I guess with everything that's been happening in the last few days, I'd barely even given the dog much thought. I never even thought to check on him when the Grievers attacked. 

He's wagging his tail, licking the tears off of my face with a smile on his face. I let out a small laugh as I hold him, a feeling greater than joy spreading through my body. 

"I see the dog found you." Someone says above me. I look up and see Winston, his hands on his hips and a smile on his acne-covered face.

"How the fuck did he survive?!" I ask, standing up, but still holding the dog close to my body. 

"I brought him with me when I was hiding. Figured I couldn't just let him die. He's the last thing you have of Ben." The boy says, a sad smile now on his face. My throat tightens when I head Ben's name. A wave of guilt washes over me.

"Thank you." I whisper, swallowing back the lump in my throat. "So, uh, who all..." I trail off, knowing that Winston gets the memo.

"Alby, Zart, Dave, Adam, Maverick, Joe, Cody, Morgan, Louis, and a shuck ton of others." He says, his voice low. "Clint..."

"Clint?" I ask. Winston nods, looking at the grass. I want to cry, but I can't. My body won't let me. 

"Fuck, man." I mutter, rocking Bark side to side in my arms as if he were a baby. "I don't..." I run a hand through my hair and let out a heavy breath. "That's some heavy shit. A lot of people..."

Winston just nods before walking away, his eyebrows slightly furrowed, probably due to my nonchalant reaction to the list of all the boys we lost last night. The thing is, I'm confused by it too. 

I can't seem to process death very well. Either I react like it's nothing and it's just another day or I react like the entire world is falling apart. With Ben and Logan, I had both reactions. At first, it was as if my entire world had just ended, but it didn't take long for me to become numb to the idea of him being gone. However, with Alby and Clint, it was as if nothing had changed, even though all of the deaths made my heart hurt.