NIGHT BEDS ━︎━︎ THE MAZE RUNNER

Gally's letter to Newt. [EXTRA ENDING]

DO NOT READ THIS LETTER IF YOU ARE NOT CAUGHT UP OR IF YOU SKIPPED. THERE ARE SPOILERS.

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Dear Newt or whoever finds this letter,

If this is some random shank that is reading this letter, put it back in the damn bottle and don't get it wet, you asshole. This is for Newt. So let me start again.

Dear Newt,

It's so obvious that you're dead and even I can't fully process it yet. It'll hit me later on again. It's like a switch.

I knew how much you wanted to be my best man, and for that I'm sorry you couldn't be here to see me and MK get married by the beach. Minho took over for you. You should of seen her, Newt. That stupid dress we all saw her wear in the city only paled to comparison to the one she wore while walking down the sand. The girls went crazy trying to dig through the giant boxes of clothes that could be close enough to a wedding dress. It was worth it, because as always— she took my breath away.

Most of the shanks here are wondering if we plan on repopulating and having our way of building a future. Jorge wants to be a grandfather and Brenda told me she will be so mad if she gets migraines of our kids running all over the place and knocking stuff over. But here's where you're gonna shake your head, I guess there's already a future coming soon. I'm not talking about the Safe Haven that we built. That night after I found you guys, I guess MK and I got a head start. Her baby bump is growing and luckily we found some clothes for our baby to wear. I'm not sure about formula or baby food. Vince has to have something.

Thank you for supporting my choice and for not letting Thomas kill me as soon as I took my mask off after saving your sorry asses. Thomas misses you, Fry misses you, MK misses you, I miss you. And of course Minho misses you— he was the one who carved your name on the rock. We all miss you like crazy. I still cannot believe you're not here. I've known you since the Glade and I was so worried about your limp. It's so unfair that I got a spear to the chest and survived yet with you we all tried to help you when you were turning but you had a knife to the chest and you were gone.

I wish you were with us but I'm sure Teresa and Chuck are with you right now. Tell Chuck I said hi by the way. I often wake up from nightmares, the place where I killed Chuck. It still kills me every time. I don't want to call it post traumatic stress but it's something I can't shrug off when I go to bed or when I go on my day preparing food or building fires or building structures for the kids to play in. I still feel so guilty for killing a young boy, our friend, our little brother figure. How can I go on like this. I need help. I hope for the best at the Safe Haven, I also hope you don't have that limp anymore. You're free now, Newt. There's no more mazes to run, no more burning fevers from the Flare, no more cranks, no more Grievers, no more losers capturing kids as lab rats for a cure, no more haunting thoughts of how scary this world can be. All you can do now is rest . . . well . .. once you finish reading this letter I wrote. I feel like Thomas is gonna find this letter and read it, but if I cannot find the time to toss it somewhere I'll hide it. Is this still a letter, a rant, a diary entry, my escape, my cry for help? I don't think I'm the kind of person to write letters anyway, but a change did me good. And I changed for the better and hopefully tonight I will not wake up sweating and snapping at the person next to me, especially my wife. It'll feel like I'm strangling Janson but if I open my eyes it'll probably be Minho or my future child that I'll be attacking in my sleep. That is what I'm fearing about.

My hand is cramping. You were a really good friend of mine. We weren't great runners but we were great friends. So Newt, thank you a million times.

— GALLY

PS. I forgot to mention. It's a baby boy. We're naming him Charles. Chuck for short.