Promise Me ➵ Newt [3]

TWENTY THREE | the end

After a good few hours or so I begun to lose hope, thinking that maybe the particular flower I was hunting for didn't exist anymore after the sun flares struck, or maybe they just don't grow in this area of land - when I spotted them.

Dozens of them, all scattered around the bottom of the hill, their petals flourishing with vibrancy.

I rushed down to them and examined them, their faint sweet smell wafting over. The roses themselves swayed back and forth, almost as if trying to persuade me to pick them. I went around, walking among the bushes despite there being thorns, and when I finally found a particularly beautiful and healthy rose and climbed back to the base, dewdrops of blood and scratches decorating my arms. 

I trudged back to Newt's grave and got down into a crouch, and with careful fingers I placed the roses I gathered down where he was buried, the vibrant petals resting on the sand. I stood up and observed it. It seemed kind of pointless to me now, to spend so much time in the hills only to place a single flower on a grave, until I realized that if Newt were here right now he would probably just laugh at my persistence and say some annoying but lovable comments at me.

And with that thought lingering in my mind, I stepped away from his grave with a small smile on my face, feeling a tinier bit happier - only a tiny bit; but it was still progress.

-

That night, we gathered round the giant campfire in the middle of the base, huddling under the thatched roofs with each other for warmth in the sudden chill of the night. I sat in between Minho and Thomas, our shoulders and knees brushing each other's in a somewhat comforting manner. Aris, Sonya, Harriet, Frypan, Gally, Brenda, Jorge - there were all there as well, sitting around us, chatting away in low but carefree voices. The other people were doing the same, sipping every now and then from their glasses of honeyed juice.

Vince got up and stood next to the campfire, one side of his face illuminated from the bright firelight with the other cast in shadows. Slowly, our chatters and conversations dimmed down as people started taking notice of him and soon enough, there was silence.

"We have come a long way together," he said, raising his voice over the crackling of the fire. "So many of our friends and family have sacrificed themselves only to make this place possible. Without them, we wouldn't be here right now. Not a single one of us."

He raised his drink, the glass glinting in the setting sunlight.

"So here's to the ones who couldn't be here. Here's to the friends we lost."

People started raising their glasses along, sombre expressions on their faces.

"This place, this Safe Haven that is now known as Paradise that we are living in right now, is for you, for all of us. But this?"

Vince gestured to a tall stone structure behind him, the base buried in the sand. "This is for them. For the ones that we lost. So in your own time, in your own way, come make your peace. Carve their names so every one of us can honour them, because they deserve it. And welcome to the Safe Haven!"

The crowd cheered then, clapping and whooping joyously as people took long gulps from their drinks and hugged each other. People started getting up and walking around the campfire, talking and laughing and just having a carefree, wonderful time. I didn't budge from my seat, only watched as my friends milled about and exchanged jokes and stories with each other, their faces breaking into huge smiles.

After a while of watching them, I got up from my seat and trudged away, hands stuffed in my coat pockets. A wind picked up and tousled my hair gently, almost as if coaxing me.

I ambled over to Newt's grave and paused in front of it. The roses I had picked a few hours earlier were already losing their vibrancy, the petals weak and wilting. I pulled out my hand from my pocket, my fingers curling around the wrinkled paper as I unfolded it, revealing the beautiful sketch of Newt's face. It was dusk, the light fading away from the sky along with the sun so I couldn't see much, but I still remembered the details of his soft eyes, his long, tousled hair, his sharp jawline. I folded the paper and tucked it back into my pocket.