Going Away Means Forgetting

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"I'm not going to make it."

We got moving in the morning quickly. Walked through broken cities and a desert (which pissed me off because now I have sand in my god damn shoes). We had to take a break since Winston's state was deteriorating. I was stupid for having hope that he would survive. 

Anyone that I even remotely care about gets the life beaten out of them. It's only a matter of time before it happens to Minho. And Newt. But if it happens to Newt, I will never forgive myself.

Now, dear reader. I don't know why you've decided to pick this journal up and read it. You are stupid. And insane. I can only guess it gets worse. I don't mean to be unhopeful and shit but damn. I mean... just damn. 

I curled up next to Newt and drank the soup that was hardly soup. Just broth that Frypan managed to scrape up. 

My heart skipped and I spit out the soup when a gunshot rang out. It's sound traveling endlessly in the empty desert. I scrambled to my feet and rushed over to where Winston held the gun in his hand, pointing at his head. I grabbed his wrist quickly and snatched the gun out of his hand. 

He cried. "FUCK YOU." He screamed at me making me flinch. Newt came up behind me and squeezed my shoulder. Winston crawled up on his hands and knees and puked as Thomas came over asking if he was ok. 

Then he laid on the floor like he was giving up. It's not supposed to end like this. Not another person.

"It's growing..." He said in heavy breaths as he lifted up his shirt to show us his stomach. I looked away quickly. "Inside me." It sounded like the scared little kid that was inside all of us came out, crying for his mom. For his dad, brother, sister. "I'm not gonna make it." This time he said it to me. Not everyone, just me. Like he knew this hurt me seeing him die. I mean, I'm sure it hurt everyone too. But with Ben and Alby and now Winston... it's killing me. Then he reached a hand up to me and whispered his pleads. "Don't let me turn into one of those things."

Tears brimmed in my eyes. Newt grabbed my hand that held the gun and took it gingerly from me. "Wait, Newt-" I started but then I saw what he was doing. He slowly walked up to him and knelt beside him. Everyone was tense and crying, and believe me I was too, but I was at peace. Newt put the gun on his heart and Winston's hand came up and caressed it. 

"Thank you." At first sight, this looks awful. Oh look, he doesn't really care about his friend! He's giving him a gun to kill himself! But it was as much of a favor to Winston as it was to himself. He knew what it felt like to want to die more than anything. He knew what a world was full of emptiness and pain and he didn't want Winston to go through it. He had to it. He wasn't killing him. He was saving him. 

"Now, get outta here," Winston said. And those were the last words we heard him say. I couldn't help but hope that after we packed up and left that he said some better last words. That he sang some of a song that was on the tape sent up in the box with his name on it. That he whispered good-bye to everyone he cared about. 

I'm not too fond of goodbyes. When Newt and I read Peter Pan there was a quote that stuck with me, and still does. 

Don't say goodbye because goodbye means going away and going away means forgetting.

-J.M Barrie; Peter Pan

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