blind | newtmas | -discontinued.

chapter twelve

I'm really sorry I haven't been updating. I just don't really have ideas for this or the time to write.

***

There's one thing that Newt's always banned himself of doing, and that was having hope. He's learned the hard way through his years of being in the Glade, that hope was useless. He can remember his earliest days being filled with it. 'Maybe I'll be able to see.' 'Maybe it's just temporary. 'Maybe we'll get out of here soon.' Newt was never taught that sometimes having hope was worse than not having it at all.

He reminds himself this as he stands with Chuck in front of the Maze. The walls of the Maze were still closed. Newt could feel air warming as the sun rise. Newt could also sense the hope in Chuck.

The boy had been there all night. Waiting. Newt kept waiting to hear Chuck's footsteps returning to his bed, but he doesn't. Newt lets the younger boy be though. And sometimes he would find himself wanting to wait with the boy. Other times, Newt feels like going up to the Chuck and whacking him with his wooden stick. But he doesn't. He decides that this could teach Chuck what no one ever taught Newt. Besides, he thinks, why would today be any different to the other times I've hoped for good things to happen?

Newt doesn't even admit to himself of that small something he feels at the bottom of his heart. Something that causes Newt to be  awake through the night just like Chuck.

He starts to hear the walls shifting and Newt snaps out of his trance. It's opening. The sounds around him get louder and louder.  Chuck gets up from the ground. The sounds are familiar. He feels the walls start to open just like they do everyday and night. But this time, Newt's hoping that they're there at the other side of the wall.

Newt grips his cane tight, feeling as if that was the only thing securing him to the present. Chuck's muttering has turned into shouts. "Look, Newt, it's opening!" "They'll be there I know it!" The younger boy's voice manages to be louder than the sounds from the walls moving. This was one of the times where Newt was happy to have the Walls open.

But then Chuck's shouts stop all together. And it was then one of the times where Newt wishes he could see.

Except he doesn't need to see to know what was at the other side of the walls. Nothing. Newt clears his throat, and says the first thing he's said all night. "I think you've had enough, Chuck. They aren't coming back."

Newt uses Chuck's sudden sigh to figure out where the boy stood next to him. He brings his hand to Chuck's shoulder and gives the boy a reassuring pat. Newt turns around. The sun has risen now and he feels the first few rays dance on the back of his neck as he walks back from the entrance of the Maze.

He feels a tickle in his eyes. An ache in his chest. There's water now dropping on his cheeks. Newt looks up and puts his left hand out. It wasn't raining. He couldn't feel raindrops on his hands or the sounds of the drizzle. He puts his hands up to his cheeks and follows the wetness. His fingers travel up to meet his eye. He's crying.

Newt shakes his head. Wipes his eyes. 'No one ever survives the Maze, you know that,' he tells himself. He's dealt with death in the Glad before. It was inevitable, life went on. That's what Newt repeats in his head like a mantra. What he didn't tell himself, was that hope was instinctive. He's about to start walking again when he hears Chuck cry out.

Newt turns on his heels and runs. The younger boy's cries sound like heaven. 'They're here! They're alive'. His heart is jumping from his chest, he's never felt this way before. There's one name that's going through Newt's head over and over, and he doesn't even try to stop it.

Newt stops running when he feels Chuck's hands grip hold of his hips. "I knew they'd come back, Newt, I told you they were." If it were any other day, Newt would've smacked the younger boy in the head, but today, Newt just smiles.

He smiles because he could hear rough footsteps coming closer and closer. He smiles because more and more of the Gladers had woken and gathered around, encouraging the boys that had made it. Newt smiles because they had made it.

The sinking feeling in his heart turns into a spitting flame. It fills him, head to toe, with happiness. And Newt decides that this must be what hope really feels like.