AU: Chapter is scheduled for revision.
"(y/n)... Don't blame yourself..." the familiar, weak voice echoes in my head, muffled as if it is spoken beneath the surface of water. "You couldn't control it... (y/n)... (y/n)," the voice pleads, "get them out of here."
I lurch with a start, waking up in a cold sweat. "A-Annie?" I stutter in a quiet voice. My arms tremble as I prop myself up onto my elbows, steadying my breath as I scan the bunk room to regain my grip on reality. I know what memory that was, and I am well aware that the voice was my greatest friend's, but it shook me to the core in an unnatural way. This was different. It seemed as if her words were no longer a warning for events of the past but they were acting in regards to something to come.
What if it's about the strange occurrences that Aris has been witnessing? Whatever it may be, I must not allow it to distract me from what's to come today. I am no longer going to be in the dark.
Taking a deep breath to center myself, I quietly slide my legs over the side of my bed and rise to my feet. With a drawn out yawn, I turn to look at the digital clock on the small table in the corner of the room. 5:02am. I've got two hours to kill before breakfast, so I might as well take a shower before people start to wake up. Shifting the rest of my weight to my bare feet, which are cold from the hard flooring, I tiptoe to my locker, grasping a change of clothes and quietly making my way out into the hall.
The florescent lights of the aisle way flicker subtly, their buzz seeming to be louder than usual. I do my best to keep quiet, though I can hear staff already working from somewhere down another hall. It's not like I would get into trouble for showering this early in the morning, but it is simply more comfortable for me to remain silent. It's safer.
I make a right when the hall intersects with another in a T shape, swiftly striding along the corridor and slowing to a stop in front of the door to my left that is labeled, Girls' Showers. As I slowly push the door open, it makes a soft creaking sound, and I peer inside, checking to make sure that no one else is miraculously up at this hour. After a few moments of silence, I step through the door and close it behind me. I walk to the line of benches in between the side walls, both sides lined with showers. Grabbing a clean towel from the shelves at the far end of the room, I make my way to the shower in the far back left corner, sliding open the grey-blue curtains and carefully stepping inside of the narrow, long shower. Turning to close the curtains behind me and setting down my folded clean clothes on the short stool by the entrance, I begin to hum to myself as I undress and drape my pajamas over the rail that holds the curtains.
My eyes cannot help but glance at my right side, trailing along the faded, lightly discolored scar that runs down from the pit of my arm to my hip, just short of two inches in width. A mark of a lost memory, a story lost in a reset mind. However, in truth, with the excitement of today, I think my nightmares and mysterious scar may not be able to haunt me as much as they normally do.
Finger brushing my hair, I walk along the white tile flooring that seems to shimmer with a golden glow due to the warm-tinted bulbs in the showers, making my way to the furthest end. Turning the hot and cold knobs and reaching my free hand out to feel the water temperature, I adjust the heat until the water feels just right. With that, I step beneath the stream spouting from the shower head, embracing the hot water with a sigh of relief.
Three years. I went over three years without a proper shower until I arrived to this facility last week. Undoubtedly, I will never take showers for granted.
As steam radiates from the water, my muscles finally relax, the pressure of the water breaking away the tension built up between my shoulder blades. With the water streaming down my head and into my face, pushing my hair forward along with it, I look down at my hands, examining them. The gashes on my knuckles have healed significantly, and, flipping my hands over, I scan the subtle lines in my palms. Amidst the creases in my hands, I can faintly make out the scratches that remain from the splintering wood of a spear.
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The Other Side - A Newt Fanfiction
Fanfiction{Book 1 of 3} (y/n) and Aris have been stuck at WICKED's facility for days on end, and the meals are beginning to drag on, now that the rest of Group B has either been taken to Janson's promised paradise or disappeared. Although WICKED has been supp...
