As the Greenie got settled in, Newt found himself thinking more and more about this idea of his. He knew he would eventually go crazy without telling anyone how he truelt felt but that wasn't an option.
After a run in the maze, then a depressing trip to the Map Room in which they drew our the route the Runners took, Newt finally figured out how to keep himself sane with the bloody idea bouncing around in his head.
Deciding to sleep on the outskirts of the forest alone that night, Newt leaned against a tree and took out a crumpled paper he stole from the map room. He grabbed a roughly worn in pencil and began to write.
Newt finished the letter around midnight, according to his watch and sighed, glad he took the pressures of the idea off his shoulders. He read over it one more time, wanting the reader to understand what he'd been feeling. It read:
Shanks,
After spending over half a year in this bloody maze, I have finally found the solution that suits my needs. As a runner, I found that the idea of getting out of the maze is a hopeless piece of kluck. I am sad to say that this was the only way out because we've tried every other thing. There is no shucking way out of the buggin' maze! After seeing Minho climb the walls the first day, my mind has been centered around that idea. All of us were slintheads to think that there was ever a way out. After all the Creators throwed at us, do you think they'll let us boogie on out of here? I bloody think not! The Grievers, the walls, the Box, the maps, EVERYTHING! It doesn't bloody matter! Everything is just part of their shucking, jacked up experiment on us. WE'RE JUST BLOODY KIDS! Kids!
I'm sorry, but I can't handle it anymore. I thought I got it out of my mind but the idea is always there, in the back of my jacked head, waiting for the right moment. And now was the time. I don't blame any of you, it's all the Creators! I hate them! I HATE THEM! I HATE ALL THEIR BLOODY GUTS AND SOULS! When you read this, please, show the buggin' Beetle Blades the scrap of paper you hold now, to maybe, barely show just a small piece of what they've done.
And with that off my beedin' shoulders I know I'm ready to do what I've planned to do since I saw the bloody walls from the bloody box.
I'm ready to jump.
I'm ready to accept death.
Newt heaved in a great, emotional sigh and folded the paper up, placing it in his left pocket. He knew the time wasn't right, but it would be, and soon.
Newt curled into a tight ball and glanced up at the sky. The moon was out, causing the usual amount of stars to fade and for some, disappear.
That night, Newt fell asleep not thinking about his crazed plan or his letter, but of his family, his old life, hoping that somewhere out there someone was waiting for him. Crying for him. Wishing for him.
A/N:
Hey guys! Hope you enjoyed this chapter, I know it was short but the next one will be longer! Sorry, this is kinda depressing. Please review, I'd love to know how you think the story is, or what I could do to improve it in any way! Thanks, that's it so far! :)