CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
ADELAIDE
Although Newt had offered me to help, I had refused. This is the thing that I had to do it myself, otherwise, I will never be able to live in peace.
My throat gets dried up as I stare at the hammock in front of me. On the top of the hammock, laid a small bundle of clothes and a pair of dusty, worn out shoes.
Stan's belongings.
No one could find his body. Everyone thought that the Grivers had taken him with them; as they had done with many others, so we could only bury his belongings.
My hands tremble as I unhook the hammock and slowly roll it neatly, inhaling Stan's apple scent. I burst into tears, my shoulders shaking but I keep working. After folding the hammock, I hug it tightly, sinking into my knees.
Why did you have to go?
When my cries slow down, I open his bundle. There are a few soft colored t-shirts an a few button up shirts kept untidily and a small plastic comb. I brush my fingers through the soft fabric, remembering each of them on Stan.
I reach the bottom of the bundle, finding few crumpled sheets of paper. I smoother them and read:
Adelaide,
I like you and I know its kind of pointless because you could do a lot better than me and I know that it wont go anywhere but I cant help holding onto the hope that possibly maybe, there is a small chance that you like me too.
Stan
P.S. this is not in a kind of mopey and self-pity kind of way, that you belong to someone better than me, its just the hard truth.
I sniffle, feeling myself drowning in the endless pain. I turn the page over.
Adelaide,
When I tried to write you a letter before all I've wanted to say is shuck you but I don't want you to read it because you don't deserve it. I've grown. And I don't want you to think that I'm mad after the rejection because to tell you the truth, you gave me something no one ever gave me – love.
So, Im not mad at you, I dont hate you.
Thank you because you made me feel special and valued. Thank you because I don't deserve this but still you choose to love me. Thank you for being truthful to me.
Stan.
P.S. i can never stop loving you. and you are my bestest friend.
I just can't stop crying as I read other letters. Most of them were to his mother, explaining how he missed her even when he didn't remember her and some were addressed to his future self instructing himself to follow his dreams and to stay strong in any circumstances.
I gather the letters in my hand and press it against my chest, my chest hurting as the void in my heart gets bigger and deeper.
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Fourteen rectangular pits had been dug in the Graveyard. The air was heavy and thick as all of us gathered.
Newt stood beside me, his hand in mine and Minho stood on my other side, as I stood there numbly. My eyes only focused on Stan's grave, filled with his neatly rolled hammock and his belongings. I wanted to take all of his letters and keep them with me but I don't know if he would like me touching his belongings or not and I can't be anymore selfish with him. So, I've kept everything back in its own place.
The funeral was a sweet sorrow, for in those moments of raw pain, when it feels as if or lost friends scream in silent anguish and then there are the memories of the good times.
While the most of the Gladers were crying; I for once didn't shed a single tear. It was as if I had exhausted all tears and was left completely dry.
I was wondering if I had done the right thing with Stan. That boy had never asked anything from anyone, except for my love, which I didn't even consider to think about giving him.
Was I too selfish for my love towards Newt that I didn't think twice before telling Stan no?
That night, I didn't think twice before jumping in to save Newt and Thomas. And Stan didn't think twice before jumping in to save me.
What if I had never left the Gathering Hall? Would Stan be alive right now?
My eyes fall on his grave.
Are you happy? Will you be at peace? Will you find your parents and your siblings? Or will you reborn far far away from the Creators and WICKED and lead your life exactly as you wanted?
The funeral ends as after each one of us pays homage to the lost Gladers and the leader- Alby, scratches off each names from the Name Wall. Without much conversation, everyone leaves for their own work.
"We'll be in the Map Room." Newt whispers against my ear and I nod. He kisses my temples and leaves me alone. I take deep breath and place a single yellow wild flower on Stan's grave.
Yellow was his favorite color.
I love you, Stan. Always.
TOTAL WORDS-721
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