(This chapter contains self harm)

Minho’s POV:

We spent most of the day getting used to our new house.

We just hung out in our house, talked, joked.

Near the end of the day, I left to get us dinner, and when I came back I saw Newt sitting on the edge of our bed, his head in his hands, his body shaking with sobs. I immediately set the food down on one of the log-stools, and sat next to him. He made no move showing that he noticed me.

“Newt? Honey? You okay?”

Newt looked up from his hands, and quickly wiped his eyes

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m fine.”

I took one look at his tear stained face, his flushed cheeks, and his red eyes.

“No, you’re not. What’s wrong?”

Newt sat up straight

“Nothings wrong.”

I put a hand on his back

“Yes, something is. Is it about. . .Alby? The others?”

Newt shrugged off my hand and stood up to looked at me

“No, everythings fine.”

I stood up next to him.

“Newt, you know you can tell me, right?

Newt took a step away

“Yes, but nothing is wrong.”

“Something is!”

Newt walked to the door.

“Nothing is.”

I took a step towards him

“Newt, c’mon. Are you really okay?”

Newt opened the door, and stepped out.

“Yes! Everything is okay! Everyone is okay! I’m okay!”

He slammed the door closed, him outside.

I sat down back on the bed

“Newt. . .”

Now I was the one sitting on the edge of the bed, my head in my hands, crying.

Newt’s POV:

My voice broke on the word okay.

I was okay

I was okay

I was-

I fell onto my knees in the sand and started sobbing.

I wasn’t okay

I stopped crying, and started gasping for breath.

Each lungfull didn’t feel like enough.

I really was drowning.

I started running. I didn’t know where. The pain in my leg felt good.

I almost ran into a building.

I guessed it was the kitchen

Oh, well, as good a spot as any.

I swung open the door.

I was right. It was the kitchen. I sat down in one of the corners, and just started crying. Every few seconds I would start gasping for breath again.

Why did I do that?

Why was I so stupid?

Minho just wanted to help me, and I ruined it.

I stopped crying, and just sat there, sucking in breath after breath

I was drowning

I was drowning

I was drowning

Something glinted from one of the counters, and I stood up to look at it.

It was a knife.

I picked it up, I don’t know why.

I moved like a robot to the other side of the room, where someone had left a bucket of water. I held my arm over the bucket.

With the other arm, I sliced the knife into my arm.

I watched the blood seep out of the cut, and fall into the clear water.

I watched as the blood danced with the pure water.

I felt the pain in my arm.

I did it again, on my wrist.

The instant the knife sliced into my skin, my chest let go, and I could breathe again.

Half an hour later, both my arms were covered with cuts, and the water was red.

I stood up.

Minho would be looking for me.

I looked down at my arms

Shuck, why was I so stupid?

I couldn’t just walk in like this. . .

I emptied the bloodied water, and walked to where the cliff was. Next to the cliff, was the area where people were sorting things. It was dark now, and no one was there. I picked up a long sleeved sweater, and slipped it on.

The fabric rubbed on my cuts, making them sting.

The scary part was. . .I liked it.

I cherished it.

I made my way back to our house.

I opened the door, and saw Minho standing there, looking like he was waiting for me.

Suddenly, I felt like he could see through the sweater.

“Hey, Newt. I’m sorry if I hurt you. . .”

You didn’t hurt me. I hurt myself.

“No. You didn’t.”

Minho looked worried

“Are you sure you're alright?”

I crossed my arms, feeling the pain of the scars on my arms, and I attempted a smile

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

I slept with my sweater on. In the morning, Minho and I woke up to banging on our door. I groggily stood up and stretched, then instantly winced as the pain of the now scabbed over cuts. I knew there were bruises around some of them as well. I tried to hide my grimace with a smile, but I don’t know if Minho saw it. When I opened the door I saw Thomas and Brenda. I attempted my happiest-I-definitely-am-not-hurting-at-all smile and greeted them. They, on the other hand, showed no effort to be happy.

They just were.

“Hi, what’re you guys doing here?”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Thomas grinned at me

“We wanted to ask if you guys wanted to explore the forest with us.”

I turned to look at Minho, who was sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes

“Well, Minho?”

Minho walked over to me

“Sure if you want to.”

I nodded

“Alright.”

I turned back to Thomas and Brenda

“Okay, let’s do it. Just give us a second to get some food.”

Brenda grabbed my arm and pulled me out the door.

I swallowed back a cry of pain.

“No need for that, we got your stuff already, c’mon!”

Minho laughed and bounded out of the house after us.

Minho was slightly behind Thomas and Brenda with me, and he looked at me with an amused look.

“Newt, are you sure you want to wear your sweater? It's already hot, probably just gonna get hotter.”

I almost froze

“Um, yep, I think I’ll wear it.”

Minho reached for one of the sleeves

“At least roll up the sleeves. . .”

I drew back

“No! I mean, no, that’s okay.”

Minho looked at me for a minute, then shrugged.

“Your heat stroke.”

I don’t think you can get heat stroke while you're drowning.

Me and Minho caught up to the others, and we laughed and talked for a while. We reached the forest, and for a while, it was just like walking through some trees. Me and Minho found a small tree, still not fully grown yet, but still tall. Minho reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small knife. He started carving into the tree, as I watched.

“What are you doing?”

He pulled away for a second, and I saw the beginnings of what looked like my name.

He was carving our names into the tree.

I smiled and placed my hand on top of his.

We carved our names, with a heart encircling them.

We finished carving, and Minho looked at me.

“Now we’ll be forever.”

I felt my heart crash.

“. . .Yeah. . .forever.”

We kept walking for what seemed like forever.

Then we reached a patch of thorns that we had to go through. The thorns stuck to my sweater, and pulled at my hair. We finally made it through the bushes, and we sat down for lunch. As Brenda was digging around in her backpack, Minho looked at me and started laughing

“Newt, you look like you just lost a fight with a rose bush!”

I smiled

“Well, in a way, you could say I did.”

Everyone laughed at that. Brenda handed out sandwiches and we all started eating. Just as we’re about to keep exploring, I realized my arm felt wet. I looked down, and saw that one of the thorns had ripped through my sweater, and it had reopened one of my scars, and blood was seeping out of it, and onto my sweater. I casually folded my arms in a way that I hoped would cover it. The blood was coming fast, and I glanced down at the sleeve. It already had a bright red splotch, steadily spreading outward. Minho walked over to me.

“Ready to keep going?”

I nodded. I was almost sure I was pale.

Blood loss from the gushing wound, or fright of Minho finding out?

Choose one.

Or both.

“Newt, are you doing okay? You don’t look so good.”

I nodded again

“Yep, absolutely fine.”

Minho sighed.

“Okay, we are taking off that sweater.”

I shook my head and backed away

“No, that’s okay. . .”

Minho shook his head

“You look like you might pass out, we are taking it off!”

I put my hands up as if to calm Minho down, completely forgetting about my cut. Minho took a step back, and I instantly realized that he had seen it. I quickly folded my arms again, and faked a look of happiness. Minho wasn’t buying it though. He grabbed my arm, and looked at it, then looked at me

“Baby?”

I shrugged

“I-It’s just a little cut. . .”

Minho turned to Brenda

“You guys can start, we’ll be there in a sec. Oh, and Brenda, do you have any gauze, or bandages?”

Brenda nodded and handed her backpack to Minho. He kneeled down and started digging through it, and without looking up spoke to me.

“Newt, take your sweater off so we can bandage you up.”

I didn’t move. Minho looked up

“C’mon, take it off.”

“I c-can’t”

“Why?”

I folded my arms

“I just can’t.”

Minho had found a roll of what I guessed were bandages, and was standing up again. He stared me down

“Take it off, or I’ll take it off.”

“Minho. . .”

Minho had a look of confusion on his face.

“It's a sweater. Why are you so scared to take it off?”

I sighed and started to take it off. I kept it over my arms as long as possible, but I knew I had to take it off.

I did.

When Minho saw my scars, he dropped the bandages. He looked into my eyes, his already filling with tears. I tried to smile, but failed

“That’s why.”

Minho ran at me and hugged me. Somehow I didn’t feel any warmth. Minho pulled back and took one of my arms in his hands

“How did this happen?”

“W-Would you believe I fell down?”

“N-No I wouldn’t.”

I sighed

“I-I did them. L-last night.”

Minho choked on his words

“I-I, oh Newt. . .”

He hugged me again. I pulled back

“Minho, I’m so sorry, I’m so stupid, I just hurt you and everyone-.”

Minho was kissing me now. When we broke apart, he had a pained look on his face. It was that look that made me start crying.

“Newt, listen to me. You aren’t stupid. You don’t need to be sorry.”

I slumped into Minho’s chest. I suddenly felt exhausted.

“I felt like I was drowning, Min. I still do.”

Minho wrapped his arms around me

“Newt, please, please tell me when you feel this way. . .”

I was hurting Minho.

I was hurting him.

Why was I so stupid?

First in the maze.

Then after the crash.

Now here.

In the safe haven.

Where it was supposed to be safe.

And, every single time, I failed.

I couldn’t even do that right.

I broke away from Minho. I ripped my arm out of his gentle grasp, and I ran.

I ran through the forest, not knowing where I was going.

The thorns scraped my bare, scared arms.

I liked the pain.

My bad leg buckled, and I collapsed onto the hard, rocky ground, crying. I tried to stand up, but just crumpled to the ground again. I curled up into a tiny ball, my body heaving with sobs. Each breath I took in reminded me of how I just hurt people.

Maybe if I hugged myself tight enough I could disappear. . .

I wish.

I heard hurried footsteps.

I knew it was Minho, and that just made me feel worse. I didn’t look up.

“Hey, it’s okay. . .”

My head snapped up.

“No it’s not! Nothing is okay!”

Minho put his hands up to try to soothe me

“Calm down, it’s okay.”

My hands flew up, and I grabbed fistfulls of my hair.

I just pulled at it.

Hard.

The pain was a life-line.

“Minho, it's not! Are the gladers who didn’t make it okay? Is Teresa okay? Is Chuck okay? Is Alby okay?”

The pain in my head reminded me of the flare.

Good.

I deserved it.

I deserved to suffer.

I pulled harder.

Minho reached up, and gently pulled my hands down.

“Newt. . .that's not your fault. . .”

I looked down at my arms

“Yes, it is!”

Minho shook his head.

“No, it’s not.”

I yanked my hands from Minho’s, and crossed my arms.

Even that hurt.

Good.

“Minho, you didn’t see, you didn’t hear.”

Minho put a hand on my arm, and I flinched. He immediately took his hand off of me, an expression that apologized a thousand times.

“Didn’t hear what?”

I was breaking down. My breaths were hitching, and I was starting to feel suffocated again. Why was I like this?

So stupid?

“I t-told Alby that it would be o-okay. Then he shucking jumped i-in front of m-me to save me. I-I told C-Chuck it w-would b-be okay. H-He d-died to. I t-told Teresa it would be o-okay at the v-very beginning. Did th-that turn out okay?”

I was screaming now. Minho just looked at me.

“Answer me!”

Minho looked at the ground.

“No, it didn’t.”

“So it was my fault!”

“Newt, no-”

I felt a stabbing sensation in my arm, and realized I had been digging my finger nails in so hard I drew blood. I felt like I was sinking deeper and deeper into the ocean of darkness. Each breath didn’t seem like enough air. I felt Minho’s hand on my back, and his hushed voice in my ear, trying to reassure me.

“Newt, Newt, sweetie, just breathe. Breathe.”

I pulled in breath after breath.

Then I just gave up.

I slumped into Minho.

I could barely breathe.

But I managed to whisper.

“I-I’m just so, so tired. . .”

Minho put his arm around me.

“I know Newt, I know.”

I was somehow crying.

How can you cry when you can barely breathe?

Minho’s voice was filled with worry

“Newt, I’m going to get the others, Thomas and Brenda, okay?”

He started to get up, then stopped, and looked back at me. He seemed to be debating something. He finally ran off.

I tried to wait.

I really did.

But, I just couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t.

I saw a small piece of wood.

I grabbed it.

It wasn’t sharp, but it was good enough.

I felt like my lungs would give in at any second, and I would finnaily drown.

I pressed it against my arm, and dragged it across my skin.

It cut just enough to bleed.

Almost the instant the stick dropped to the ground, it felt as though a hand let go of my throat.

I almost collapsed with relief.

I took in breath after breath of cool, fresh air.

I heard bushes rustling, and Minho, Thomas, and Brenda burst through, and into the small clearing. As soon as they saw me, they all noticed the scars.

Brenda put a hand to her mouth.

Thomas looked pale.

I caused them pain.

As soon as Minho saw the fresh blood spilling out of the cut, now blanketing my arm, he fell to his knees next to me.

His eyes were filled with tears.

“W-Why. . .”

I didn’t look at him. I looked at the ground.

“I c-couldn’t breathe. I-It helped.”

Minho didn’t make any remark about that. He turned to Brenda, his voice shaking, his breaths unsteady.

“G-Go tell the med-jacks to get ready. Run.”

Brenda and Thomas nodded, and ran off. Minho looked at me, tears spilling out of his eyes now. He gingerly lifted me up, being careful of my arms.

He arranged me in his arms bridal style, and I couldn’t help but remember. . .

Just a few days ago he was carrying me, we were happy, we were moving into our new house together.

Then I had to go and ruin it.

Minho was sprinting. The blood on my arm had dried. We reached the hut. Brenda and Thomas were waiting. Minho set me down inside, on the cot that I had occupied only a couple days ago. Minho didn’t leave. This time he stayed.