The Memory Trials

Chapter 20

(Chapter Song Above)

Georgia's P.O.V

The harsh and constant blaring of the siren from the box awakens me from my peaceful rest atop Minho's warm chest, his arms strewn over my body like vines to a rose bush. I'll let Marie handle this one, if she needs any help I'm sure she will come running, maybe I will meet the poor shank later, around lunch. My soon-to-be husband stirs slightly beneath the pool of dripping light streaming through our window, his body a glowing ember.

Minho's skin resembles that of a marked canvas, once he was blank and fresh but now is christened with the details of his troubled life. Long jagged scars litter him like pencil marks that were unable to be erased and deep purple or blue bruising ambush his warm skin. They are the unmistakable brushes of an artists strokes, each and everyone with a purpose, a greater plan. I trace them gingerly with the tips of my fingers, counting and memorising each one like the pages to my favourite book.

Without actually realising it, I fell in love with Minho so quickly and yet time never seemed to move fast enough, as if I needed to be around him every second I could. He was my anchor of safety, I couldn't lose him. Falling in love with Minho was like handing over a pocket of myself, hoping that he would tuck it in neatly beside his heart and keep it there safely until the day death do us part. It was terrifying and beautiful all at once, it was like the stars and everything out there beyond them.

When we told the others about our engagement last night, including Anne, they all cheered joyfully for us with warm smiles and best wishes. Marie and Frypan gushed tentatively over the ring and kissed my cheeks multiple times, Newt and Alby offered kind embraces, as an apology for the past and a promise to the future, the medjacks grinned side by side as they worked and congratulated us and Anne, who was limp in her medbed, smiled with passion and declared her happiness for us. I'm so glad she has finally come around and let us in, allowing Marie and I to cello-tape back the torn pieces of her sanity.

The cook has already begun preparing a menu of somewhat edible food for the wedding and Alby is deciding on a venue and ordering the builders to complete numerous tasks. Newt and Marie have planned to conspire a list of things needed from the creators to be sent down with the latest greenbean or the next, and Anne offered to make the clothing needed for the special day if the other two manage to get her some material. The medjacks promised help in whatever way they could. Today, I plan on asking Marie and Anne to be my bridesmaids after breakfast, Minho wants Newt and Alby to be the groomsmen. Excitement bubbles like lava through my veins just at the thought of it, I'm going to marry Minho, the love of my life. I can't even begin to comprehend how I felt when he proposed, how I still feel.

Although my heart is stained with unimaginable joy, something still troubles me, churning and swirling with the tide pool of my mind. If it wasn't Winston who did this to Anne, then who was it? There is only one other soul in this whole glade who I can imagine to do what has been done, Gally. Although I have a meaningless motive and absolutely no evidence that Gally is the culprit, something about him terrifies me and sparks my curiosity all at once. He holds himself from the others and speaks with a form of cowardice authority, he stalks across their confidence with no care at all, as if it means nothing. Gally is hiding something and I know it, now that Marie has been caught up in this catastrophe I can't let it go any further. If she get's hurt in this minefield I could never forgive myself. Today I will do it, I will tell her what I think about him. Maybe she will believe me but there is a high chance she won't, even if Marie declares her disbelief in me I know some form of curiosity will get her going. Even if she thinks she loves Gally, Marie would never let herself fall for a monster.

I feel Minho's tender hands tighten around my back and his chest rise and fall unevenly beneath my head as he begins waking. Fumbling slightly, I reach for my glasses and place them on before settling back onto his chest. "Good Morning Sugar" he yawns loudly, kissing the top of my head gently.