The First Gladers

Chapter 23: Angels and Devils

 Newt's face instantly turns dark, as if he's forgotten up until now just how he broke his leg. The whole room is deathly silent as you all await his answer, even Minho has stopped snoring.

"I thought you knew." Newt answers solemnly.

You sigh, "I got the gist, but it's hard to tell what's real and what's fake after a concussion."

You didn't mean that to sound so sarcastic, yet as the words fell from your mouth, they came with all the bitterness you didn't know you were feeling.

Newt hangs his head low, "Sorry about that."

Your face softens, "It's ok Newt, truly. I just want to know what's going on so I can help you."

Newt looks up at you with shining eyes.

"This place is just horrible. There's been so many losses, so many innocent people died. For what? The hope to find a way out that may not even exist? What's the point of living?" Newt hugs his good leg up to his chest, "I just don't understand how cruel a person has to be to put us in this horrid place. Even if we do escape, I don't want to live in a world that allows this kind of monstrosity for kids! So what's the point of living!?" Newt softens suddenly, breaking down into tears, "What's the point?" He whimpers.

You glance at Alby who hangs his head low, he's thought all these things before, you have too, everyone has. Yet somehow the slightest chance of hope has forced you to push on, but to hear it all said out loud... It's soul crushing.

You squeeze onto the bed next to Newt, wrapping an arm gently around his shoulders. He turns his head around, burying it in the crook of your arm crying into your shirt.

"There will always be hurt, always be pain, that's what makes us who we are. Just know that you're loved by all of us, and you're enough. We'll be there for you no matter what. We're a family, we can't give up on each other." You say softly.

You know it's not the perfect thing to say, there probably isn't a perfect thing to say, but you mean what you said.

You look up at Alby who nods, letting you know that what you said was good. You smile softly, then lay your head on top of Newt's. Alby and a newly awoken Minho slide out of the room quietly to get some breakfast, while you stay and comfort Newt.

Eventually, he calms down and his crying stops. He looks at you through red, puffy eyes.

"Thank you Y/n. For everything." He croaks softly.

"Of course. Like I said, I'll always be here for you, ok?"

Newt nods, then his face twists with concentration.

"What is it Newt?" You ask.

"There's just something I don't understand... Did you see anything weird when you were taking me back to the Glade?"

"Not really, no... Why?"

"Well, I could've sworn I saw an angel. It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen."

"Sorry Newt, it was just me and Minho."

Newt glances at your face, and for a second his eyes begin to gleam.

And at that moment, Newt sees you for the first time. Truly sees you. His Angel.

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A heavier set woman, short and stunning, watches you lovingly as you play around in the sand. Her soft round face is framed with short brown hair that falls to her shoulders, her deep brown eyes gazing at you with wonder. You recognize her face, you've seen it before. It's your mother.

You're playing with a toy truck, using its big shovel to scoop up sand and dump it into an ever growing pile of more sand. Then sun shines down on you like a blazing fire, soaking up all moister from the air. Without warning the sun goes dark... or at least that's what it seams like to your young mind. A high pitch scream emerges from your mouth and your mother is buy your side in a second, scooping you up into her arms.

Just like that, she's running, carrying you with her. You want to ask her what's going on, but your lips can't form the words. So you sit in silence, listening to the panicked rapid breaths of your mother. She takes one look behind her. There are men shouting, chasing the two of you. When she turns her head back to see where she's going you can see tears brimming in her eyes. She bolts around a corner into an alley way skidding to a stop at a dead end. She swears under her breath.

She sets you down inside a rugged wooden crate and puts on the loveliest smile she can. Although the fear and sorrow is still hidden behind her shining brown eyes.

"Y/n, I need you to be very quiet ok?" She says softly.

You nod your head vigorously, wanting to please you mother.

"Take this, keep it safe and don't let anyone touch it." She whispers, handing over a small devise of shining silver.

You slip it into the hem of your pants, and look up at your mother expectantly. She smiles at you, stroking your cheek with a soft hand.

"Someone will come for you very soon." She pauses looking over her shoulder. She quickly grabs the lid of the crate, gently placing it on top of you, all the while whispering.

"Y/n, remember that no matter what, I'll always love you."

Then she's gone. The shouting men grow nearer and nearer. Then they go away. So you wait. You mother said someone would come for you. Three days you wait.Finally, with your stomach screaming for food and your mouth parched, you climb out of the cramped wooden crate. A low guttural laugh emerges from the dark corner across from you as a shadow creeps out from the depth of the darkness. A man, with a cruel smile plastered on his twisted rotted face. The smell of burnt flesh stinging your nose. The man lurches step by step toward you, his laugh never ending. His eyes bulge out of their sockets. And he freezes.

"Someone left me a snack!!"

You jump backward and scream like you've never screamed before. You crash into the crate. You're engulfed by soft fabric, twisting, writhing and straining to free yourself. You can't see anything as you continue to scream, trapped by the sheets. You roll along the hard ground struggling to free yourself as hands from outside try and rip you from the sheet of fabric. Your breath become labored as the fabric wraps around your throat.

"Y/n stop!" A voice yells from above. A familiar voce.

You freeze. The sheet is pulled from your head, revealing the concerned face of Newt.