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NINETEEN 「unrecovery」 ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚
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WHAT BECOMES OF someone when they die? Sylvia wondered.
Ad astra per aspera.
A quote she'd read in one of Nick's books, while hovering over his shoulder. Through adversity, to the stars. Is that where Nick lay now? In the stars? Among blossoming galaxies and blooming planets, brought forth by destruction. Or was he in the so-called heavens, created as a resting place for only the purest souls? Frolicking among the clouds with angels by his side? Sylvia scoffed.
He wasn't any of those things. He was still trapped in the Glade with the rest of them, like George and Quinn and Ronan. Though, he'd yet to show himself.
Nick had gotten himself killed trying to explore the Box hole. Sylvia learned that he'd only told a few people about the plan. He tied himself to some rope, took a flashlight and a knife, and lowered himself into the Box hole. Apparently, he was trying to find a way out and the idea came to him in a dream. He hadn't run the idea by her because he knew she would talk him out of it or that she would insist that she go in his place. Newt's words, not hers. She could admit that his words weren't wrong. Still, Sylvia cursed Nick, because now he was dead.
What would she do now that he was gone, no longer a concrete and solid thing? What would she do, all alone? Who would calm her rage? Rationalize her thoughts? Tell her what to do? No matter how much she liked to think it, Sylvia did not do whatever she wanted. She followed Nick's orders, complied to his rules. Now, would she be forced to follow Alby? The answer was clear.
The first thing she did after she initially found out about Nick, was break down crying, as the whole Glade saw. The second thing Sylvia did, was storm to her room in an all-encompassing rage and throw things. She threw trinkets and broke chairs and smashed everything in sight. Her room was unrecognizable by the time she was done. No one tried to stop her or tell her to calm down, for which she was grateful. The third thing she did was retreat into Nick's room and stand in the center of it, doing absolutely nothing for an unknown amount of time, until a certain black-furred dog sulked into the room.
