Summary:You try to be there during the hardest time of Teresa's life.
337 Words
Teresa was bouncing her leg, something that practically echoed in the cold cafeteria. Her sandwich was untouched in front of her as she stared blankly behind me. Her usually bright eyes grew duller every day, and there was nothing I could do to give her that happy shine back.
She started mindlessly biting her thumb, chewing on her nails, before her face paled even more. Reaching into her purse, she pulled the sanitizer out of the front pocket. She mumbled something to herself while cleaning her hands yet again for the crime of nail-biting.
“Teresa,”I whispered, reaching my hand out. Her brows furrowed at the attempt, lips parting as she flinched.
“I just-germs, you know,”she muttered, pushing her hair behind her ear. I could only nod before turning back to my sad salad. What am I supposed to say to that? What can I say at all? My mom’s not the one in a hospital bed growing worse by the day. Maybe becoming a hypochondriac who thinks your girlfriend’s hands will get her killed is a normal part of the trauma.
“You haven't eaten all day,”I gently pointed out.
“I’m not hungry,”she mumbled, scratching at her arms before crossing them over her chest. Her painfully glassy eyes were hidden by awful dark circles. She looked healthier after all nighters in college.
“That’s okay. We can save it for later,”I promised.
“No,”she shook her head.
“Teresa-”
“No, no. It’s not okay. No-nothing is okay. Nothing is ever gonna be okay again,”she broke, burying her face in her hands. Her shoulders trembled as she sobbed in the middle of the night.
“It’s not. This isn't okay. I know it hurts,”I repeated. Holding out her hands, she reached for physical comfort for the first time in months.
“Come here, sweetheart. Come here,”I soothed, standing up from the small table to wrap my arms around her. When I kneeled down, she gripped the back of my shirt as she hid in my neck. Holding her close, I ran my hands through her greasy hair. Her tears burned my skin, a tainting reminder of how much agony she was going through.
“I’m here for you. I'm always here for you.”
Teresa laid in bed, listening through the thin walls against her will. The screaming only seemed to grow worse each and every night. Sometimes their voices carried so loud, she couldn't even make out the words. As her father and brother's words turned into a mush of rage, she turned the volume up. Her headphones were working overtime to muffle it so she could have some sort of sleep.
As she closed her eyes, trying to get some rest before the sun rose, there was a taunting beep that made her quickly sit up. Scrambling for her phone, she stared at the low power warning on her only method to make it stop. Jumping out of bed, she sprinted to her drawer, searching for her headphone charger. As the voice grew fainter, her breathing grew faster. Her entire body flushed hot as she overturned her neat space, trying to keep her sanction.
Her hands scraped the bottom, making her heart drop. As she fell to her knees, her vision blurring with tears, her escape died, leaving her with only Thomas and Janson’s arguing.
She slowly looked up, consequently meeting her full length mirror she had begged for. She never imagined one day she would be on her knees in front of it, hands clasped in a prayer she knew wouldn't be answered. Her arms trembled from a mix of quiet depression and repressed contempt.
Her bloodshot eyes were surrounded by dark circles that had gone unnoticed. Her hair was on its third day unwashed and unbrushed, a greasy, itchy mess that she was hiding in buns. Her arms were littered with old and new crescent marks that she never realized were there until it was too late.
Taking another breath that hurt her chest, she hesitantly took off her protection. Grabbing her dresser, she pulled herself up the way she always did. Tomorrow she would pretend to have heard nothing and comfort her brother when they were at school. She would go to advanced classes and tell her few friends that everything was perfect. Her teachers would see nothing more than a ready to learn smile that assured them they didn't need to worry about her. When she showed off yet another perfect score, everything would be fixed.
Because if she worked hard enough, if she was good enough, if she was independent enough, she could fix the entire world.
I think I’ve officially gone blind. The letters are all blending together on the screen in a bunch of incoherent nonsense. If I lean close enough, I learn that the essay has officially started speaking to me. It's whispering in my ear, haunting in my head, saying the same thing over and over.
Just give up, and take the failing grade.
I think I should at this point. The alternative has to be some kind of heinous death. My eyes keep drooping despite my attempts to stay awake. I can do this. I know I’m capable of this.
Maybe just not for this specific assignment.
As I groaned, burying my face in my hands, someone firmly grabbed my shoulder. Snapping my head back, I stood up, clenching a pencil in my fist. My heart was beating out of my chest, my cheeks growing warm at the adrenaline.
“I just figured you’d want a little bit of energy,”he shrugged, setting a cup on my desk. Collapsing back in my seat, I rubbed my aching temples.
“Maybe I’m not cut out for this,”I accepted, looking back at my own reflection on the screen. I don't think I recognized him anymore. His eye bags could make a raccoon jealous, and something about him seemed like hadn't eaten in weeks. He was pathetic in every way, clearly not built for this.
“Maybe I should drop o-ow!”I was cut off by a slap on my back. Turning around, I glared at him.
“No boyfriend of mine is going to be a failure. I love you, because I know you can do things like this. You're resilient even when it's hard.”
“But-”
“So you're going to drink that coffee, you're going to finish your essay, and you're gonna fall asleep on the couch before you proofread it.”
I sighed as I looked at the hot cup steam rising out of the small cap. Minho was looking at me through the screen, his dark eyes gazing expectantly. He believed in me more than anyone else, and he was my favorite person in a way I never expected. He was confident in himself and confident in what he said.
He was confident in me.
“Do you have anything to-”
“Already on it,”he promised, plopping a bagged sandwich on my desk. Sitting up straighter, I looked at the word count that was right there. I just had to keep going, keep working, and maybe ask my Minho for another coffee.
Summary:The act itself is the easiest part of self-defense.
771 words
Teresa kept the pillow over her ears to try to ignore it. She had done nothing wrong. It was an accident really. It was an accident, and she had nothing to feel guilty about.
It was late when he rung her doorbell, at the very least for a woman living alone. She immediately paused the television, holding her breath as she waited to see if it was real.
They knocked again, a little harder this time. She moved in the middle of nowhere to get away from that, to live in solitude unless she wanted to see people. She had a simple life. She got up to the sun shining and drank her coffee on the porch. She showered before going to the office for a few hours. Sometimes she hung out with her friends or picked up dinner. Most of the time, she headed back home and read for a little bit or watched television while having a meal.
Nobody disturbed her, because she designed her life that way.
So if someone was knocking, they had to have a reason.
Her stomach churned as she creeped closer and closer. Her mouth dried as shivers traveled up her spine. Something felt wrong in a way she never experienced before. She froze as she stood outside her door, her heart racing in her ears.
When there was a demanding knock and maniacal laugh, she stumbled back. Her hand went to the dresser by it for stability, only for a vase to smash on the floor.
Silence.
Complete and utter silence.
Then a crack.
She stood up quickly, sprinting away from the door and to her phone. As she was still in the living room, there was more splintering of the wood. She screamed for help as she leaned her hand against the wall, her head spinning in circles as she tried to think.
The door busted open as she was on the third step. Never one to back down, she kept going with no plan. She had to think of a plan. She was in the middle of nowhere, her keys were in the bowl downstairs, and her phone was at six percent when she put it in the charger.
As she was in her doorway, trying to push inside, a hand grabbed her ankle. A man was shouting incoherent threats, his voice crazed to the point where she knew there was such a thing as reason. His hands were wet, and she didn't want to know from what.
She kicked him in the face, making his grip loosen. Her door had no lock, and there wasn't time to block it off. In a last resort, she ran to the window, trying to push it open.
It was no use as her door was off its hinges. When she turned around, she saw what could have been a zombie. He was missing patches of hair, and bits of flesh were scraped off. Deep crimson was dripping from his mouth which seemed fitting with his bloodshot eyes.
She didn't think. Not really.
She just grabbed the shotgun she had been gifted more as a joke than anything. She was never one for violence and certainly had no enemies.
Not that she knew of.
She cocked the weapon and positioned at him. As he ran at her, she fired. The loud bang was echoing in her ears, louder than anything she ever heard. The force shoved her back, leaving her disoriented.
There was no time to focus on that. She had to be sure he was dead.
So she fired again and again and again until there weren't any bullets left. Then she fired some more.
She shut down as she acted on autopilot. She extracted the bullets from the body and put it in the garage while she figured out what to do. She started bleaching the walls, scrubbing the floors, and wiping the baseboards. If she was a suspect, they would look at every room. She couldn't let there be any evidence.
The door would have to be a tomorrow problem. She was done with thinking and too exhausted to stand.
As she laid there in bed, staring at the ceiling, she knew she couldn't handle this on her own. She couldn't exactly look up what to do, and someone might go looking and would definitely suspect the forest.
Picking up her phone stuck at four percent, she went to the only contact that she could trust to help and keep his mouth shut.
Summary:Teresa's supporting basketball for one girl alone.
246 words
Brenda could feel sweat dripping down her neck before she even got on the court. She had put her all into this sport. She had given up sleeping in and not looking at protein counts and free time. Some days, it didn't even seem like she had a social life.
The net was standing proudly, towering above her. It was a neverending building, stretching to the sky as she craned her neck to look up. It was looking right back at the uniform she would wear for the last time and laughed.
This was it. This was the final game of the season. If she screwed this up, she could never show her face anywhere again. Her heart thumped erratically in her chest, a preview to what would come. And what to come didn't seem to be something she liked.
As she was frozen in place, she heard someone already cheer. Turning to the stands, she saw a familiar face that made her breathe. Teresa smiled when they made eye contact before making a heart with her hands. The bracelet with the number ten slid down her wrist, a not so subtle appreciation to the number on her jersey.
Her girlfriend showed up like she did every game just to watch her. They both knew damn well she didn't care about sports. She cared about Brenda. That's why she was going to play, and she was going to win. Simple as that.
Can you do a maze b one please? Reader in maze b, the spring, and was skating through the maze, mapping it, and has been so overly tired the past few days after the maze and this is because of their pots. They dont know its pots they just know they have a chronic disease, and they kinda tried to hide it from all the girls in the maze when they come up. Because of their athletic state and the dash they made across the snow that a former skater had to chase after them and tackle reader because they were going so fast they quickly got promoted to explore the maze. Also because of how mature they acted. So reader was just coming back from the maze still in their ice skates, right out of the maze, they collapse. Face first into ice. And Harriet is stubborn and wont let it go for a very long time and makes them spill. The person everyone knew who was always positive, happy, there for comfort, was weaker than ever and cut n bruised.
I'm a sucker for a good group b fic, especially with hurt/comfort aspects. I'll work on that you for as soon as I can :)
Hiii I just wanted to ask if you could pls do a female self harm one in the Scorch and everyone finds out about it at the way station before we leave, like we get taken away with Teresa and are kept in a room to see what will happen? Sorry if you can't do it, I know that self harm is a hard subject to talk about, I used to do it but hearing other people's stories even if it's a fan fic, it really helps me for some reason
Heyy. Sorry, I thought I responded to this for some reason. I actually used to do the same thing when I was self harming. I think it was the reading about being comforted that made it better. Yes, I can write that for you, and I hope you're doing okay <3
Summary:After turning to WCKD, it's no shock that people aren't overly drawn to Teresa. While the general consensus was to leave her be, Sonya can't push past the memories of her friends' faces. The growing resentment was inevitable.
Sitting alone together every night was a choice.
Summary:Your desperation to get to the Safe Haven almost kills you.
1,894 words
“I don't think I can do this anymore.”
“It’s okay. We have to be close by now,”I said firmly, adjusting the sleeves of my bag. I can practically see it. The beautiful beach, the ability to breathe without knowing you’re being watched, the ability to wake up without wondering if we’re going to die. The Safe Haven is in reach. We just have to keep going forward.
“You know how important breaks are,”Marianne said firmly. Her voice cut through the thin hot air like a blade from the skates she left behind. Never again would we have to put up with that or wet snow or WCKD. As long as we get there in mostly one piece, we should be alright.
“She's right. We need a break for now. We can squeeze under some rocks for a bit,”Harriet suggested, though her voice held no real room for debate. The fact that everyone was agreeing certainly didn't make my case any easier.
As what was left of the group practically collapsed, I reluctantly set my stuff down. The sun was beating down on me, making my clothes stick to me. I smelled the way I felt, like dirt and sweat that proved I needed to burn everything I was wearing.
I watched everyone pull out their snacks and canteens, doing their best to keep their strength up. If we want to make it, there's not really much of a choice.
As I opened my water, I saw Amanda shaking hers, trying to get any little droplet. There wasn't a single sound from it, like even the air had abandoned us. Opening it anyway, she put it straight over her mouth, searching for any hint of hydration.
“Here,”I offered, holding mine out. She stared at it, then at me as though I had Cranked out. I didn't pull it away, promising that I hadn't lost my mind. I’m sure I still have a good three days before that happens.
She accepted it with shaky hands, a sign of weakness we were all feeling. Leaning back against the rock, I crossed my arms over my chest as I went silent. Even speaking takes up too much energy.
We’ll survive though. There's not many of us left to die. That means more resources, less people to look out for, and makes it easier to stick together. We just have to keep going.
♡ - - - ♡
The heat seemed to have gotten worse the next day. Even my spit had evaporated. If hell is real, this is the free trial.
The sun was blurring my vision, leaving me blinded. The light burst until my head was spinning. My throat was burning with nausea while my entire body ached in a way I never felt before. Each and every step brought a wave of shock to me until I could barely breathe.
When I forced myself forward, just one more step the way I had been telling myself, I seemed to have missed the ground. My legs refused to cooperate with me anymore, instead screaming for the abuse I put them through.
My knees hit the ground before I could catch myself. The sand dug into my skin, cutting through my pants. Everything went black for one bleak moment before I forced my eyes open.
“Hey, hey. Don't get up yet,”Harriet demanded, her hands on my shoulders when I tried to lift my legs.
“I’m fine. Just a little tired,”I assured her, patting her hand for reassurance.
“Y/N-”
“I’m okay. I feel fine,”I promised, trying to ignore my heart racing out of my chest. The sweat that made my clothes stick to me was gag worthy, and none of that would get any better. Not until we get there.
“People who are fine don’t pass out,”she said firmly.
“I didn't pass out. My legs just hurt,”I defended, getting to my feet.
"Everyone's does. Collapsing isn't a normal part of that.”
“Harriet, I’m fine.”
“No you're not. You're going to kill yourself,”she insisted, gesturing to me. The only way that would happen is if I don't make it there. I’m tired of suffering. I’m tired of going through hell. All I want is somewhere I can sleep without worrying about what comes when I close my eyes.
“I’m doing fine.”
“Then think of everyone else. We all know if anything goes wrong, you’re the best person to patch them up.”
“Harriet-”
“I’m not going to believe you that you are fine because I might not be a Medtech, but I sure as hell know you’re not fine. You need to rest.”
“If I rest now, I’m not going to get up. We need to keep moving.”
“You can't move at all if you're dead.”
“Except I’m not going to die.”
“You’re certainly on your way to it.”
“This isn't-”
“Enough, Y/N. As the leader, I’m ordering everyone to stop now,”she instructed in that voice I hadn't heard in what seemed to be forever. She wasn't just leader because she was the first up. She knew how to make people listen even when it was the last thing anyone wanted to do.
“Fine.”
♡ - - - ♡
The cold night wrapped around me like a soft blanket. I was somewhere else entirely, somewhere that made my head stop aching and stomach stop growling. It was so faintly familiar, a world that wasn’t perfect but wasn’t heinous.
The sound of footsteps made all of that go away. They were pacing in a frantic pattern, the kind that means they were going to pull their hair out.
My eyes burned as they adjusted with my brain to my surroundings. Harriet’s brown boots walked back and forth past me while her words were spilling scarily fast for someone trying not to wake the group.
“I don’t get it. Why is she still pushing herself?”she questioned, stopping for a second to look at someone for an answer.
“You know that's what she does,”Sonya whispered.
“Well, she needs to stop. She’s going to get herself killed before we even get there.”
“That's why you have to make her stop.”
“I can’t make her do anything. I swear it’d be easier to rip all of my teeth out with no hands than convince that girl to do anything,”she groaned, running her hands over her face.
“Huh. I wonder if there's ever been anyone like that in the group,”she drew out, no doubt giving her that look. Harriet stopped to give her a weak glare like that wasn't true.
I don't think I’m being that stubborn though. I want to see the Safe Haven. We all want to experience it. There's nothing wrong with pushing yourself a little.
“I just, it’s so dangerous out here. I don't want her making that worse for no reason,”she sighed, shaking her head.
“I know. We're all here though. I hope-I think it’ll be okay though. I think.”
“I . . . think so too. It’d just be a little easier if Y/N would use her head. I know she's smart enough to see what she's doing to herself.”
I’m not doing anything to myself. We don't know if WCKD is following us, we don't know when we'll run into the next deadly thing, and we don't know how long we'll be out here. There's just no time for rest.
♡ - - - ♡
The sun doubled down on its hellfire today. It’s so close to night yet the worst thing I’ve ever gone through. The sweat on my forehead alone was enough to fill a pool. This has to be some kind of crime, if those are still around.
My feet may have been bleeding. It’s hard to tell seeing as I can't feel them. I can't feel anything at this point really.
“Are you okay? You're limping,”Sonya questioned, turning to look at me.
“I’m fine,”I dismissed, squinting at the sun in my eyes. The small speckles in my vision certainly weren't helping with that. The ache in my chest grew worse, a bad sign I more than know I should pay attention. If I do though, I’ll slow everyone down. My legs felt impossibly weak, like everything was bound to go wrong. If it does wrong, that means I’ll slow us down.
When I tried to move, my foot slipped, hitting what felt like nothing. The world grew dark, like someone slipped a bag over my head. Someone screamed my name, a voice I knew but couldn't make out. Not when I couldn't make out anything at all.
♡ - - - ♡
The world was way too bright, blinding flashes of light that left me nauseous. My face was cold from something pressing on it. I think someone was talking, though they sounded like they were drowning under water. Or maybe that was me.
Slowly raising a hand to my aching head, I found a rag or some kind of fabric on it. It was damp, a refreshment from the constant heat. There was small lights flickering above me and something bigger above them.
Nightfall.
“You’re finally awake!”Sonya whisper-yelled, touching my shoulder.
“I don't,”I tried to think of something to say, sitting up as I came to. Because I fainted. Somehow, I managed to do the complete opposite of my only goal, of the only thing I wanted.
“Y/N!”she snapped, her footsteps the kind that I knew but was never at the other end of. I opened my mouth to defend myself, to explain, to assure her, only to be stopped by the glossy eyes.
“I-I can be better. I-”
“No! No, that's the problem! That's exactly the problem! You're trying to do everything! You're trying to play hero!”
“Harriet, maybe-”
“No! This isn't okay! None of this is okay!”she ranted, shaking Annie’s hand off her shoulder. She took a shaky yet determined step forward, looking at me with a frenzied expression.
“People won't stop dying! Nobody-everybody just keeps leaving right in front of my face! And I can't stop it! I’m never able to stop it! And I’m watching the same thing happen to you! I’m watching you die in front of me, and I-and I won’t be able to save you!”she screamed, gesturing to me as though I something more. More than me, more than a number, more than an Icer. She was looking at me like I was everyone she lost.
“Because I couldn't save them,”she whispered, a single tear falling down her cheek.
I’ve never seen Harriet cry before. I don't think anyone has. Not when we barely got out of the Maze, not when we had to leave people behind, not when we ran from Cranks. None of that had ever made her cry before.
Because she was trying to keep us alive.
As she was standing there, her breathing heavy, I stood up. When she wiped her face, staring at the ground, I wrapped my arms around her as tightly as I could, which wasn't much seeing as I wasn't nearly as strong as I could be. It was what I could give though, one of the only things I could at that moment.
“We’ll get there. Even if we have to slow down,”I promised.
Summary:Brenda doesn't get the reaction she expected when she comes out to Jorge.
637 words
Pansexual.
The word really was simple. She likes boys, she likes girls, and she likes everyone in-between. She just wanted a partner she could share her life with. Why would someone judge her for that?
There was no reason to, but people do it all the time anyway.
Jorge was different though. Not quite her dad but not quite not. He raised her when her parents just disappeared and George went with them. He took in the weird neighbor girl and taught her to shoot a gun. Not liking guys couldn't possibly be where he drew the line.
She sat at the kitchen table, reading without taking in any information. It was an excuse to run her fingers along the page to give her hands something to do. The sun was just starting to come out, subtle rays of light shining through the windows.
Oh damnit, the sun was coming out. How was space doing a better job than her?
Slamming the book down, she groaned as she ran her hands through her hair. Her foot tapped anxiously on the ground, awaiting something she was still arguing with herself about. How could she know how to pick locks and be nervous about saying words?
“You're up early.”
She jumped at the voice, turning to the doorway. He was already dressed and ready for the day, which she didn't understand. She was barely aware of her own existence yet.
“Unfortunately,”she sighed, pushing her novel away. She turned her attention to the table, trying to force herself to just say it. She should have done this at a Taco Bell. Nothing's ever gone wrong in the afternoon at a Taco Bell.
“You have a long day ahead?”he asked, pouring his coffee.
“I’m pansexual.”
The two words spilled before she could take it back. Her face grew hot as she said it aloud for the first time. She had written it in her journal and taken all the online quizzes. Saying it out loud though, that made it real. That meant it was just another fact about her.
“Oh. Well, you did say the rainbow was your favourite color when you were a kid,”he recalled, taking a sip from his mug.
She could only stare, her brows furrowing in confusion. Of all the reactions that could have happened, not once had this crossed her mind.
“Oh?”she echoed.
“It's true. I got a note about you arguing with-”
“No, I mean . . . you don't care?”
She was looking at him with such hopeful eyes, still asking for approval. As he looked back, another image crossed his vision, another version of her. There was a time when she didn't even want to leave her bedroom. She would lash out at everyone, screaming her voice raw. She was violent, mindlessly getting into fights over the wrong look and breaking her own things. Most of all, she was scared. She lost the only family she had and didn't know what to do with that.
“As long as you can help me with Bertha this afternoon, I don't care what you are.”
She breathed out a sigh of relief as she leaned back. The weight had finally lifted off her shoulders. The chains on her wrists broke, leaving nothing but hope in her path.
There was time for that in a few hours though.
“I’m going back to bed,”she said simply, not bothering to force a smile as she turned around.
In truth, Jorge had no idea what pansexual was. He understood at the very least it didn't mean only guys, but it would be more shocking if that was the case. She was a magnet to the other queer kids for a reason.
Thomas’s eyes refused to leave the screen. It was harder to breathe every time those brown eyes even glanced at the Beetleblades. His heart fluttered in his chest before crashing on the ground.
Newt was miserable in the Glade.
He was miserable holding Alby’s hand and forgetting his first love.
Summary:Cheyenne and Teresa are two sides of the same coin.
263 words
Stay Gold
Being true to yourself, innocent, uncorrupted, unblemished etc.
Teresa looked at the small hand in hers. Cheyenne’s condition wasn't anywhere near where she wanted it to be. Her eyes had only grown redder, her pupils dilated with blood. The growing veins had only gotten worse, the infection spreading up her arms.
She was still her though. Even though it hurt, even though every day seemed to bring something new, she was still her.
“Teresa?”she asked in a soft voice. Despite how saying one name strained her throat, she still said it with hope. When there's a disease, people find a cure. It was practically a biological instinct. Get rid of the weakness, of the pain, of anything that wasn't making life better.
“Yeah?”she smiled, trying to ignore the creeping doubt. She still had so much light in those reddened eyes, like someone with too much to live for. If anyone would make it, it had to be her.
“I’m gonna see my mom when I get better. Right?”
Her smile dropped for a second, her head filling with memories. She wasn't sure when everything inside of herself changed. Maybe it was when she couldn't hide the bite any longer. Maybe it was when she tore her own eyes out. Maybe it was when WCKD kept promising they were right there.
It didn't matter. Either way, she would never remember the innocence of being a child. It was too late for her.
But it wasn't too late for Cheyenne.
“Yeah. You’re going to see your mom when you get better.”
Summary:Getting out of her toxic house doesn't mean Teresa's mind escaped.
1,166 words
“That’s it. I’m changing major's,”Teresa repeated, slamming her medical textbook shut. As much as she wanted to find the cure for every disease out there, she couldn't do much if she went insane.
“You say that every week,”Brenda reminded her, lightly nudging her side. Covering her face with her hands, she held back a scream. She could practically see the light at the end of the tunnel. Each class made it more and more tempting to just disappear into. She could be Alice in Wonderland, except she’d never leave.
“It’s going to be fine. You'll do what you always do and study until you go blind, be convinced you failed, and end up with the top score,”she assured her, reaching out to push some of her hair back. On instinct, Teresa jerked away, her gaze downcast on their blanket.
The atmosphere around them dropped. The shining sun was back home again, refusing to let them taste peace. Just because they were free to be who they were didn't mean they had escaped.
Teresa could hear her mother's words clear as ever. She had taken the life she was given and spat on it. She chose lust over heaven, and she would lay the price. Her entire family would pay the price. Their legacy in their town would be a sick daughter corrupted by a queer.
“I’ve got to run. Don't wanna be late for class,”she excused, shoving her book into her bag.
“Teresa-”
“I’ll see you later,”she rushed out, throwing it over her shoulder. Her legs worked before her head did, leading her to the room she didn't have to be in for another two hours.
Brenda knew that of course. It only made sense she would know her own girlfriend’s schedule.
But she also knew now was one of the times she couldn't even say I love you.
Ă— ~ Ă— ~ Ă—
Teresa could feel herself being lulled to sleep by the hands running through her hair. Brenda's fingers scraped her scalp, leaving her eyes half open. She would say the long day helped if not for the fact that those only make sleeping harder. This was truly the only way she could turn off her brain.
“I hate this part,”Brenda grumbled, grabbing a handful of popcorn.
“Well, yeah. It's not made to be enjoyed.”
“Why couldn't he just kiss his girlfriend?”
“Would you rather watch a movie where nothing happens?”
“I’d rather watch a movie without scenes that make me want to blow my brains out.”
“You're ridiculous,”she sighed, sitting up. Leaning on the headrest, she crossed her arms as she watched her stretch. Pulling herself off the couch, she yawned as she raised her arms.
With a mischievous smile, she wrapped her arms around her waist, tugging her on her lap. The blue-eyed girl smiled as she shook her head. Tightening her grip, she kept her safely on top of her.
“I was trying to get water,”she stated. When the short haired girl sighed, loosening her grip, she fell right into the trap. As she started to stand, she scooped her into her arms. Teresa had no choice but to hold her shoulders while scolding her for the lack of freedom. Despite her words, she had an uncontrollable smile on her face, caught up in the moment.
She was lightly tossed on her bed, a place both of them had spent hours in. Taking her spot beside her, she wrapped herself up in her lover again. Grabbing her face in her hands, she pressed their temples together, keeping them close.
Her eyes were beautifully dark, the color of fresh coffee. Those eyes were the first important things after their nights together. The other was that fresh cup meant to wake her up. She could see their future now. They would spend their days immersed in the world they built together. With walls they painted, pets they adopted, and shows that were theirs, they would have the perfect life.
But beyond that was something else. It was darker than those sparkling eyes, darker than hot coffee, darker than what everyone said. She would live a perfect life.
And then she would suffer for it.
Brenda saw it before Teresa even stood up. The guilt, the shame, the embarrassment. She wasn't sure if it was because of her or because of wanting to be with a her, but it stung all the same. Because at the end of the day, she was the center of it all.
“Tess-”
“I have to go,”she cut her off, grabbing her jacket off her chair.
“It’s okay. Please? We don't have to worry about them anymore,”she pleaded. Turning her back to her, she slid out of the open door. Her arms were crossed over her chest to make herself smaller, to hide away from who she was. Following right behind her, her girlfriend begged her to listen, swore on everything she had that it would be alright.
“I know it's still scary after everything. I feel it too. But-”
“No! You don't know!”she yelled, snatching her hand away. Her fingers burned from being touched. Her heart yearned for more, to be held and loved as she cried on the floor. Her body remembered what happened when someone first noticed, the way her stomach churned at what could happen.
Stepping back, she stared at her. She was struggling to breathe, tears brimming her eyes as she was caught between what she knew and what she was taught. Her world was collapsing around her more and more every day while Brenda kept flying higher.
“You don't know,”she whispered, dropping her head. She felt something deep in her chest crack, her brittle bones splitting in two.
“You don't know. You went home and knew-and knew you were allowed there. You were loved and cared for and could exist. Jorge was as good as your dad, and he kept you safe. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry it was so sad that you couldn't hold my hand or kiss me or-or tell me that you loved me. But when you did, when I did, I was shunned from my entire family. I lost my entire life. I can never go back without being insulted or-or who knows what. So I’m sorry if it makes you feel bad that I’m still scared to accept this. But at least you’ll have someone in your corner if you stop loving me.”
“I-I could never-”
“Just get out,”she demanded, stepping back. Opening and closing her mouth, she tried to find some way to make it better. She could talk about how she had chosen her family, or how great she was doing, or just say she loved her.
Instead, she stood there speechless.
“Please?”she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper.
With no idea where they stood, no idea if there even was a them, she left the place she thought she belonged.
Summary:If you escape the Glade, it'll have to be on your own.
403 words
I could feel his hand in mine for maybe the first time in front of people. Hiding there in the dark, surrounded by the people that had been designed to be first in our memories, were tense threats in the air. The heavy breaths made the small room even hotter, panic that escaped even with fingers clasped over mouths.
His palms were sweating. This wasn't just a petty argument or someone being given a night in the slammer. This was real. Real in a way WCKD had manipulated, real in a way they watched, real in a way that made you realize this could be your last night alive.
You squeezed his hand tighter as your legs trembled. The screaming outside echoed in your head. The image of bloodied bodies that disappeared in a flash, of the home you scavenged together being destroyed, brought an entirely new kind of grief. Your life, your friends, and your world was being destroyed under a microscope.
When you sucked in a breath, your fear shining through in the dim space, he dared to lean closer. Making the choice of your comfort over the already limited safety, he went to whisper something in your ear.
The second his lips parted, disaster struck. The mechanical legs of a Greiver smashed through the thin roof. As if knowing who would most tear your world apart, it targeted the leader, snatching him in its hold. With a scream tearing itself from your throat, you desperately gripped his wrist. He tried to hold on, his heart stopping despite how he was fighting. The other Gladers were desperately reaching, doing their best to not lose another person tonight.
There, in the faint moonlight, surrounded by blood and flames, you locked eyes. While there was obvious terror in his eyes, the unknown of death approaching, the subtle glimpse of acceptance was what really made you unable to stop the tears.
The promise of something better had always included Alby, and if he wasn't going to be there, why escape at all?
With no amount of loyalty, of familial bonds, of love being enough, he was torn away. Time stopped in that moment as he was ripped out of sight. One more scream of trepidation echoed throughout the Glade walls before the entire world fell silent. Even as someone grabbed your arm, urging you to move to another excuse of safety, nothing mattered anymore.
