Erratic // Thomas+Female OC & Newt+Male OC

TRIGGER WARNING - This chapter goes over sensitive topics involving death and child abuse

READ WITH CAUTION

THE SCORCH DESERT

DAY 3 BACK IN THE SCORCH

19:45 HOURS

Buck

My mother did all kinds of things to me that scarred me as a child both physically and mentally. WICKED couldn't torture me but my mother sure as hell could. She would beat me, kick me, rip me apart, chain me up for hours and hours, make me feel like I was nothing, and so much fucking more. The list was endless. But I think the worst part about all of it was that she was still my mother and I loved her. When she was so drunk and she couldn't think straight, she would mistake me for my father and I would have to send her to bed before taking care of Joey.

And I still loved her.

But she was also the only person who scared me.

The storm was as aggressive as they had always been, the winds harsh and the grains of sand would hit our skin like a thousand needles. When I was in the mall, I found these vintage motorcycle goggles that I threw over my eyes. I used to have a pair just like them, but they're with Vince and the Right Arm along with my motorcycle that I fixed up myself. I didn't use it often, I would build it up and take it apart over and over again so that I'd have a reason to ignore people.

The storm was raging and though they never really lasted long, it was ideal that we took cover before the wind brought up some debris and hit one of us with it. Thomas was by my side the entire time, every now and then turning back to make sure everyone was okay. At this point, he had stopped attempting to talk to me, though I could tell he was worried.

Since what happened on the outskirts of the city with Winston, I could feel everyone's eyes on the back of my head. Especially Joey. Him grabbing my writs the way he did sent me way back to the old days before the Maze. To before WICKED. To before the Right Arm. To the day I killed my mother. Worst day of my life and one of the biggest turning points in it. There wasn't much I truly remembered of that day, just that I killed her and never told Joey because why would I? She was barely a mother to him anyway.

We found a crumbled piece of highway to seek shelter under until the storm passed by. Now, even though the storm was gone and the world was silent, we stayed there for a little longer to gather our strength. Charlie was laying down beside me with his head on my lap, fiddling with a piece of rock in his hands while I ran my fingers through his hair. I looked over to see Thomas looking out to the vast Scorch, probably trying to guess how far we were away from the mountains.

Minho passed Newt his water bottle, letting the blondie take a sip while Joey replaced Winston's bandages. I watched him carefully, Winston's breath more and more aggressive and quick. His skin was paler than before, his veins dark and popping out of his skin while his old bandages were stained almost completely black. He was barely awake and the only thing keeping him awake being the horrible gut wrenching pain he was feeling.

Why wouldn't Joey just let me kill him?

Joey lifted his head and his eyes met mine, but I couldn't tell what was going through his head. Was he angry with me? Was he confused? Scared? I thought that by now he'd ask me all kinds of questions about my wrists which I knew he saw, but I got nothing. I wasn't going to complain, but I was curious.

"Shouldn't one of us talk to him?" Teresa asked and I knew she was talking about Thomas.

"Why?" I asked and the girl looked at me as if I were stupid.