Before we begin, I would like you to note that there are spoilers for both the main 5 books and all 3 movies in this story. There are no explicit descriptions of violence in here, but there are a few swears so…

This is my first ever story, so I'm anxious to see your opinions, don't be shy to bash the story. Without further ado, let's get into it!

The taste of salt in the brisk sea air was not nearly as bad as the metallic taste of blood. With the amount of fights that I had gotten into in the last few months, you would have thought I was used to it by now. Well, at least I was past that hell hole. I had certainly had enough of running. Running straight into a death match, away from crazed souls who wanted to eat my nose, you name it, I've done it. These years were for forgetting and so far, I hadn't had much luck.

I could thank many things for that - my scar for example, being one of them. It still ached, leaving a hollow feeling in my stomach every time I exerted myself. A lot of healing was due for it, though not nearly as much as the memories required. Every. Fucking. Night. Faces and voices and scenes played out in my head. When the night was silent, save for the occasional snore or crash of distant waves, I was able to make out whispering. It was "Please, Tommy, please" that got me every time. My own fucking mind was taunting me. At least I wasn't alone. Plenty of us needed time to heal and all of us needed time to forget.

The ocean was my therapist. I could work through my thoughts and emotions if the backdrop was stunning enough, tranquil enough. Stunning and tranquil it was, especially with the streaks of pink and orange decorating the darkening sky. This is why I was caught off guard when the blond-haired girl from the train approached me. I had an inkling that her name was Sonya (though don't quote me on that) and she probably knew mine from the number of times people had yelled "Thomas" during an episode of stupidity, of which I'm not afraid to admit were frequent.

"Nice sunset, isn't it?"

Her voice was more mellow than I remembered, but I guess the constant threat of death gives you the need to shout quite a lot.

"Not as good as yesterday"

How can you compete with a gradient that bled gradually from black to purple, red to orange and gold? Not to mention the stars that were scattered across the sky like paint across a Jackson Pollock painting.

"You have a point."

"Yeah."

I can tell she has unrivalled conversation skills.

The pause was long, but at least filled with the screeching of seabirds that perpetually hovered around the campsite. Better than silence. I cast a glance at her two best friends laughing at something or other by the fire. They seemed happy, well, happier than Sonya anyway. She hadn't taken her eyes off of the horizon. Something was bothering her.

"Why are you here and not with your friends?"

I had barely seen the trio separate since we got here, they're worse than Jorge and Brenda.

She looked over to me, her hazel eyes reflecting some of the fleeting ocean. Her mouth twisted to the side and she was bobbing her leg up and down like she needed to go to the bathroom, although I'm sure that if she needed to go, she wouldn't waste her time talking to me first.

"I wanted to ask you something."

Everyone always does. How can we heal if we dwell on the past?

In any case, she sure was polite about it. I'd rather not be reminded of the time that some weirdo came up to me and so very nonchalantly pointed at my slightly wonky (and still very painful) nose and bellowed "How'd that happen? It's not supposed to bend like that". He then tried to rub my broken nose with his grubby digits. I'm fairly certain he was drunk.

"Go ahead, it's not like I'm not used to it"

"Well you got shot-"

Understatement of the year.

"I know"

She rolled her eyes at me. I kinda had that coming. Humour is one of the most effective ways of surviving a conversation like this. I couldn't help the edges of my mouth twitch to form a smug grin. There wasn't much to be smug at nowadays. Sonya, however, stared at me with some amount of disdain. I stopped.

"...and I wanted to know what exactly happened"

"It hurt like a bitch"

Nothing better than stating the obvious.

"I gathered that. Who shot you?"

I know it sounds naive, but I was genuinely surprised that Jorge and Minho hadn't told everyone what had happened.. It's not like his crimes were a secret or anything. They were the reason we were here in the first place.

"You don't know? I would have thought Janson's name would have become a fucking expletive or something"

"Expletive? I'm sorry, that's just about the most pretentious thing I've ever heard"

Despite how serious she sounded two seconds ago, there was no denying that a simple language slip could set her off giggling in a matter of seconds. I had overheard her conversations with Harriet and Aris before and trust me, they barely ever talked about anything remotely serious.

"Teresa had that effect on people. No matter how much of a asshole she was, she still spoke more eloquently than if a peacock could talk"

Huh, I miss her more than I thought I would.

Sonya stared straight at the ground. Talking about the people who died along the way is still a touchy subject, no matter how much of a douche they were. Except for Janson. He hurt me in so many more ways than just a physical scar and a broken nose. It's almost impossible not to mention him in a conversation.

"Whatever, this isn't about Teresa"

Yes it is, everything always comes back to her. I'm immune to the Flare invading my thoughts, but I'm vulnerable when it comes to her name.

"You haven't accepted it yet have you? She's not coming back and most of us would rather punch her in the throat than invite her to a tea party"

I'd rather not do either.

Silence again. More screeching. Vince is behind us, I know it. He's laying kindling on tonight's bonfire. It won't be dark for much longer.

"Yeah, I tackled him through a pane of glass and punched him a few times. The real fun started when he pulled out the gun. What a fun night that was."

"Sounds bloody awful"

Yeah, it was full of blood - mostly mine - and definitely awful.

"He was mauled to death by two cranks that I may or may not have accidentally freed. He fucking deserved it."

I wish he got worse honestly, being shredded alive seems tame compared to what he put us through. Would you rather die slowly or watch all your friends do it for you?

I had fled before I watched anymore of that grisly scene and judging by Sonya's wrinkled up nose and expression of extreme disgust, I probably wouldn't have enjoyed the experience. The whistling wind replaced the words. I allowed her a moment to let the horror of the thought of being eaten alive by your own kind sink in.

"Wow. He more than fucking deserved that, the complete and utter scumbag."

The waves clashed a little more. The birds screeched a little more. One of them had stolen a bread roll from Frypan's cooking station where he was busy concocting some sort of casserole. I wondered why she had suddenly struck up a conversation with me. I couldn't shake the thought that she was less disgusted by the manner in which Janson had died and more trying to work up the courage to ask me something else. Something more important than how I obtained my most recent life-threatening injury. To me, it seemed strange that she would even think to go directly to the source and not to Minho, who was, of course, a huge gossip and master storyteller. I wanted to ask her what she was really here for, but she beat me to it.

"Sonya-"

"I got my memories back."