Newt isn't like the others; he can remember the nightmares of his past.
As the weeks drag by, the memories that were supposed to be taken from him by WICKED begin to surface, creating a clearer image of who he is, why he was taken and what role he...
Just as I'm about to get out of my bed Alby's large hand knocks me back down.
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"Wha-" I begin to protest but Alby interrupts.
"Your clothes were covered in dirt and blood," Alby explains. "Clint had them cleaned for you, so you're... Well, currently you're, erm..."
And I'm suddenly very aware that I'm naked.
I tug the bed sheet up to my chin as Alby points to a chair near the door. "Your clothes are there. I'll leave you to get dressed."
He leaves, a small smirk playing on his lips, a sign that maybe there is a small chance Alby could return to his old self someday.
Hastily, I pull on my pants and then shoes. As I reach for my shirt, something small hits the floor with a light thud. It's my bracelet. Instantly, my finger traces the engraving 'N&T' as I pick it up, comforting me greatly.
Lost in contentedness, I don't hear Minho enter the hospital wing.
I jump at the sight of him but play it off as adjusting my shoe.
"Alby just told me now that you've woken up," he begins for lack of anything better to say. "I'm sorry I wasn't there but I was running the Maze. We think that tomorrow we will have ran all the fifth section."
"Good that," I say lamely.
Me and Minho have had a lot between us— understanding, trust, and even small moments of heat when neither of us knew what could happen— but never awkwardness. That's why this right now, the tension hanging heavy in the air around us, is making me feel sick. All I want is for him to smile his playful smile and engulf me in his strong arms. But there's division between us now after all that's happened. And I don't know if there's any coming back from that.
A voice from somewhere in my heart tells me it's all in my head, that nothing could deter Minho from our friendship.
I step towards him. Maybe to hug him or something else, to see if that voice is right. He lurches backwards, away from my hands, as if my touch would burn him, and my world ends.
Pulling back, I snatch up my freshly washed shirt from the chair and tug it over my head. Making sure the bracelet is tied tightly to my scarred wrist I leave the hospital wing, heading for the Homestead without a goodbye. I can't speak. It's taking everything in my power not to run into the Maze, wait for nightfall and let the Grievers take me.
Another person I've lost. How many does that make it? My mum and dad is murdered by WICKED. My sister glances at me with unseeing eyes; she's forgotten her big brother. Thomas, who has my heart, isn't here with me. Why is that? Maybe that's a good thing? He could've escaped WICKED... Bloody hell, I hope he escaped... But that begs another question, If he did escape, why didn't he take me with him? Have I lost him too?
