the analyst - (NEWT)

(unedited)

—

to say that the teen had a rough first day and night would be an understatement. here she was, heaving in the deadheads at the darkest hour of the night, unable to contain the tears at bay. she hated the feeling that overcame her, the heaviness of grief, the intensity of sadness. on top of it all, even though she could not remember half of anything of her life before the maze, she hated that she chose to process emotions this way. she hated that the creators had sent her up with the same emotional intelligence and personality. if the creators had it in them to make her forget her name, the least they could do to make up for it is to change her as a whole.

she figures if she had been this way her entire life; perhaps she didn't wish to go back to it. she didn't want to experience treating her family the same way she had these boys who had shown her nothing but hospitality (most of them at least).

she's grateful that the deadheads were significantly far from any of the buildings, letting her sob to her heart's content. truth is, she hadn't started crying because of her own self-loathing; she started crying because of a dream. somehow, she wished she was warned of this; but she understood it was a sensitive topic to all.

her dream felt so real, she felt she hadn't imagined it; she had lived it. although nothing seemed familiar, she knew it all. but, oh, how she longed for it all to feel familiar, the people, the emotion, the connection; why did it have to be a crime to be curious? why did she have to damage herself outside and in just to be able to uncover the information that she should know all too well?

sobbing even harder in frustration, she doesn't hear the crinkling of grass beneath the noise of her emotion. "greenie?"

she could recognize the accented voice anywhere, and when she registers the name to the voice, she quickly wipes away her tears. "newt", she acknowledges, refusing to look up.

she hears the rustling of his clothing and assumes he nods his head in understanding, "can i sit?"

she sighs, "go back to sleep." but he takes a seat anyways. he sits in front of her and in turn, she brings her knees to her chest and looks to the side. she didn't know why she was so embarrassed to be vulnerable in front of anyone, but she figures that being the only girl played a part.

"it's late, did something happen? are you ok-"

"i remember my name", she states quickly, newt mentally notes the nasalness of her voice.

"i'd love to hear it", his tone almost makes her heart burst open like a firework, her body slumped as it slowly grew more tired of holding down her emotions.

"it's yn."

"pretty, it suits you", he smiles gently, eyes softening as he gets a glimpse of her glazed eyes.

when a sob escapes from her mouth, unable to stay lodged in her throat and newt's brows furrow with empathy.

"i had a dream... i saw my sister, or at least she told me she was my sister..." she sniffles, burrowing her head in between her knees and chest.

"she was crying, but her cries were so quiet i could barely hear her utter my name... but when i did it was so- so painful. i couldn't move newt, i wanted to wipe her tears away, i wanted to be there for her but i couldn't move." newt moved closer now, trying to respect her boundaries by straying from touching her, but comforting her nonetheless by listening and letting her know he was still there.

"she saw me as her sister... but to me she was just a stranger" and the wind blew gently; condescending the paining cries pouring out of the young girl.