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You had been gone for a long time. You were strong and skilled, had been until the end, but the Flare was far stronger than you could ever be.
You did what had to be done. Leaving your friends in the middle of the night with the gun. You did what was best for the group, even if that meant death.
Thomas had taken it the hardest, refusing to believe you could just be gone. That was a surprise to nobody at all. From the beginning he had been attached to you in a way that was sometimes uncanny. He had found your presence alluring and almost familiar to him, though he could never figure out why.
Perhaps that's why he saw pieces of you everywhere he turned. Perhaps that's why he saw your face in crowds. Because of his heart or maybe even his conscience.
He would never know for sure, because none of it was real. You couldn't still be alive. You were dead. You were gone.
In the crowded city however, you weren't.
He swore you were standing right there, staring straight at him as people shoved past. That you were turned around and facing him, waiting for him to approach.
If he did, you would vanish, just like all the other times this had happened. He was sure of that. He was sure this was a trick.
From you or from you was unclear.
He couldn't pull his eyes away from you though. From your expressionless face and haunting eyes. He felt trapped, glued to his spot.
“Come on. We have to go,”Newt called, lightly pulling on his arm. He turned in surprise at the sudden contact before remembering you. Quickly, he snapped his head back around.
It was to avail though. You were gone, just like he knew you would be.
You would forever be haunting him. Even in death, he would never be able to escape you, no matter how desperately he tried. He would never have answers either.
