Stars ➳ TMR, Thomas [1] ✓

Chapter {13}

(A/N):
Important notice at the end of chapter.

Loud, blaring siren cut right through Gally's words, as they floated from angry to something more of confused. His cheeks have drained of color, pale even through the dust filled air and sunshine so weak it barely lit up the room. Its dying rays played on emptied chairs in patterns of both light and shadowy darkness.

Boys have hurriedly piled out, their dust stained foreheads strained in confusion as they left series of questions unanswered after them. Thomas and I were the last, not speaking, not even breathing in fear or partly question as if every word or breath could initiate heaps of problems that no matter what still built on higher and higher.

Comparing the peacefulness of the Glade, the happy chirping of birds as their song managed to fill me with hopefulness and thin grass strands that tickled my ankles to our current problem, one could easily consider that barely a problem, as if it was something easy to overcome, something we would have to face today but it would disappear tomorrow.

Yet it was not that kind of problem, it was bigger and much worse than a single plaque that we've noticed in the Maze. As Thomas had said, a new Greeine was coming, a person who wasn't suppose to come after a few weeks but a whole month and that was exactly what worried them; Chris, Gally and their groups.

As Thomas helped me walk toward the Box, I could help but to still feel a giant burden settle on my heart. The worry maybe he wouldn't find strength to forgive me, yet it seemed like he already did.

Crowd of boys was already formed tightly like a web around the Box when Thomas pushed through them reaching for a better look at whatever or whoever was in there. Sadly, the rusty metal doors were still closed to what the faces of Gladers gained even more suspicious looks, confused by recent events even more than I was. As Thomas noticed them, he instinctively pulled me closer.

Not two minutes later, the Box stopped as did the alarm that pierced the otherwise buzzing atmosphere of Glade sharply. Like a cure for my ears, the silence was heavenly, in that moment never have I thought how much I needed it. Quietly, I leaned on Thomas as support, as finally the doors of that dreaded Box opened. Silence fell on the Gladers, not the comfortable one but the one that would make you want to leave as quick as possible; tense silence. Like no one could move, or word anything at all the Gladers waited for somebody to take the initiative. So they did; after unbearable few seconds spent stuck in silence Newt jumped down.

"Newt, what do you see?" Somebody on my right side asked our leader, from whom we haven't gotten a word.

"It's a girl." And he was right. I only noticed her after leaning forward, the petite frame, unmoving as she lay in sleeping state and the stillness which made it clear she wasn't breathing. On her porcelain skin a few of her raven hair strands were caught.

Murmurs and unpleasant talks, occasional loud exclamations filled the air, but otherwise no one dared to utter anything. Sharp looks weren't only directed my way, but also Thomas's.

"What's in her hand?" Gally, who leaned dangerously close to the edge asked since no one did have any courage to do so.

"She's the last one. Ever." Newt looked up, eyes creased in worry as he observed the group of collected Gladers. The wrinkly paper in his hand consisted of only those words. Five simple and plain words, yet they sent so much fear.

Again, silence fell uncomfortably over us, only to be interrupted by another voice, sweet, female voice of a girl that lay on the hard metal. "Thomas!" Her blue eyes fluttered open, falling closed not a second later as Thomas's name left her mouth. As if in coma, she exhaled one shaky breath, stilling afterwards. In that moment it seems like the world stopped spinning, like birds stopped singing their cheerful song ending in such stillness that a single breath could be heard.