Forever Winter
Tommy…
Thomas heaved while he dragged Newt across the stone ground, aching everywhere, but, surely, it was worse for Newt. He couldn’t imagine what it felt like, to lose his mind. But now he was going to see it, first-hand.
No! Thomas internally yelled at himself. He couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t. But it seemed he also wouldn’t have a choice.
Newt started groaning. He was conscious? That was…good, Thomas assumed, but the more Newt’s mind was awake the more it would deteriorate.
Thomas couldn’t carry Newt anymore. He tried to drag him across the cold stone floor, but to not avail. Newt was too heavy, Thomas too weak. Too weak. Like always.
Too young to know it gets better,
Newt started rising slowly. Thomas kept his distance, wary of what might occur, and then be felt guilty of feeling borderline terrified of his best friend. The upmost cruelty was inner punishment.
Newt was standing, slouched over to one side. He started stumbling.
“Newt?” Thomas said carefully. “Are you…are you there?”
The blonde boy turned around. His black eyes bore straight into Thomas’ soul, like knives, piercing his heart in half. Black drool was dripping down his chin and the ebony-colored veins were more prominent than ever. The sight broken Thomas down even more, chipping off another chunk of his soul. Everything wrecked him more and more.
“Newt…” Thomas said, warning him, holding out his arms as a sign of peace but not yet defeat. “Are you still in there?” Thomas saw something change in Newt’s eyes. Pure hatred overtook him.
Newt ran at Thomas, showing him and they tussled. Newt had become much stronger since the infection, much faster, with better reflexes. It was almost a pointless battle.
Newt pinned Thomas to the ground, willing out a sharp-bladed knife. He pierced it slightly into Thomas’s chest, but hesitated, and Thomas took that faltering moment as an opportunity.
Thomas threw Newt off, hurting at the inhumane growls that Newt made. Newt started grappling for a gun, but it was pointed in a direction Thomas didn’t expect.
“NO!” Thomas yelled, batting the gun away and it slid a few meters away from the two boys.
“Kill me.” Newt said helplessly. “Just kill me, Tommy. Please, Tommy. Please.”
“Never.” Thomas vowed, a promise he was soon to break.
“I can’t do this anymore.” Newt choked.
“I’ll be bright enough for the two of us.” Thomas promised. “I swear. Just come with me…”
I’ll be summer sun for you forever,
Tears ran down Newt’s filthy cheeks. “I…I can’t. I just…”
Newt’s expression changed as quick as the tides again, back to one of fury and vengeance. Anger to the depths of the greatest ocean.
Thomas pulled the knife away from him, keeping it tight in his hands, not daring let Newt get anywhere near it. They faced each other again, pain lacing Thomas’ words, an ache that felt like a crime.
“Newt…”
If he could go back to that moment, he would not have been gripping the knife, for in the very next moment Newt impaled himself on it in a last attempt at suicide.
He didn’t have it in himself to go with grace…
Look at how my tears ricochet.
Forever winter if you go…