(song~)
It hits me as we board ourselves up in the Homestead what bothered me so much about Bark. I'm staring at Thomas, at the way he's protecting the newly-released Teresa, and it just clicks.
It was never about Bark. It was about Thomas. It was about the unbearably cheerful optimistic Glader who had been there from the very beginning.
In seeing Bark, I saw what could happen to Thomas, to my friends.
Please, I think to no one in particular, staring out one of the gaps of a boarded-up window, don't let it be Thomas. Take me, not him.
It's not that he matters more than the others. He's just... different. He deserves life more than the rest of us. More than me, at least. He's hopeful and innovative and a hero to his very core.
Just not Thomas.
I make a cave of sorts in the pile of supplies and food stashed in the lower level. I don't want to be near anyone. The small space is even more terrifying than being trapped in the Homestead as a whole, but at least here no one gets to see me cry.
And I do. I sob as silently as possible, hidden from prying eyes. The Gladers probably think I'm a coward. Maybe I am.
The Grievers are coming, and I can't stop them.