Newt,

I need you. Since the day you told us to leave, I've felt like I needed you. But, now I really do.

I wish you could come back. But you can't. You shuck can't!

I found Thomas. I gave in and went to find him, and I got my wish.

Did you tell him, Newt? Did you tell him what you did? Why you have that buggin' limp? You must've. That's the only explanation.

This didn't happen by chance.

I found Thomas at the bottom of one of the biggest trees here. Drowning in his own pool of shuck blood! He jumped out of the tree, Newt. Just like you did on the wall.

When I found him, all these memories came. By some horrible chance, they were all memories that I've longed to buggin' forget.

Alby yelling for help. You, looking just like Thomas does now. Surrounded by blood, unconscious, with your body laying in a heap. Bones bending in ways that they never shuck should.

I remembered that look on Alby's face - disgust, sorrow, and fear.

Fear.

Absolute, complete buggin' horror.

I know I must've looked like that when I found Thomas.

It was so hard to fight off my instant urge to collapse and puke my shuck guts out. I just ran over to him and it seemed worse and worse and worse as I got closer.

I slid his arm over my shoulder and somehow managed to stand up. I yelled for help, and my voice sounded so loud, but no one would hear me. We were too far.

Thanks a lot, Thomas.

I dragged him for what seemed like forever. That shuck-face is heavy! I kept yelling and yelling. I was desperate for help. If there was any chance that Thomas was still alive, I needed to get him help. I can't lose him! No one ever buggin' showed up to help!

Just like every other time we needed help. It was Alby in the maze all over again, Newt. Thomas was just in a much worse shuck condition.

I hoped I'd never have to relive that moment. Shuck it, I'd practically forgotten about it! We've gone through so much. I didn't think I'd have to worry about it again.

But you never know what the heck's going to happen.

I finally made it about half way back to our sad little village when some shank from the so-called "search team" finally heard me. The guy ran over and stood there. He just buggin' stood there! Then, sounding stupid as klunk, he says "He looks jacked up, man. What happened to him?"

You should be proud of me, Newt. I didn't freak out him like I normally would; like I shuck wanted to! I stayed calm - on the outside, at least - and got him to help me carry Thomas. It's not like he helped much; the shank is skin and bones. He can't be older than 15 or 16.

Somehow, some medical supplies had arrived in Paradise with us. Someone took care of Thomas. He was alive when we finally made it. Barely, but he was.

He tried to kill himself.

He tried to shuck leave me!

Just like you did. Twice. Except, you succeeded the second time. Hopefully Thomas doesn't have that shuck second.

Thomas is dyeing. I'm fading. And you're sickly crazy and gone forever.

I miss how it used to be.

That was the real Paradise.

-Minho