teresa-agnes

He finally pulled it all back into his heart, sucking in the painful tide of his misery. In the Glade, Chuck had become a symbol for him__ beacon that somehow they could make everything right again in the world. Sleep in beds. Get kissed goodnight. Have bacon and eggs for breakfast, go to a real school. Be happy.But now Chuck was gone. And his limp body, to which Thomas still clung, seemed a cold talisman__hat not only would those dreams of a hopeful future never come to pass, but that life had never been that way in the first place. That even in escape, dreary days lay ahead. A life of sorrow.His returning memories were sketchy at best. But not much good floated in the muck.Thomas reeled in the pain, locked it somewhere deep inside him. He did it for Teresa. For Newt and Minho. Whatever darkness awaited them, they__ be together, and that was all that mattered right then.

I remember remembering,_ she muttered, sitting down with a heavy sigh; she pulled her legs up to wrap her arms around her knees. __eelings. Emotions. Like I have all these shelves in my head, labeled for memories and faces, but they__e empty. As if everything before this is just on the other side of a white curtain. Including you.

I'm so sorry," he whispered to her, knowing she couldn't hear. I'm so sorry." Her mouth moved, working to speak, and he leaned in to make out what she was trying to say. "Me ... too," she whispered. "I only ever ... cared for...