The Fight That Haunted Me: The Second Book of Love at First Fight

Sketchbook

(Y/n)'s POV

The day passes in a blur, but there are some pieces that cause me to feel suspicious. Like how this place is a 'home between homes I don't believe it, why would they only take a few at a time? I whisper my question to Winston "I don't know maybe they have to run tests," he says shrugging off my suspicion. I look to Thomas who looks to share my unsure sentiment as he looks at the guards who stand at a set of doors. 

When we are escorted to our bunks I climb into a top bunk exhausted from too many things that had gone on. I lift my head up to stare at the door that was locked and latched shut as we entered "Well that's a fed flag," I say looking over to Thomas and Newt who are still standing "yeah and what did those guys want with Teresa?" he asks giving away the already assumed notion that he likes Teresa. 

"Listen if there is anything I know about that girl it's that she can take care of herself, and they probably lock the doors for our safety don't worry about it," Newt says settling into his own bunk. "I remember the last time there was something keeping us in, and that worked out just great," I said laying back into the bunk and I can hear Newt sigh frustrated with my remark. "(Y/n), here's the bag you brought. I guess they brought it in here for you," Fry says handing off the worn old bag I sit up in the bunk and pull out the first thing my hand settles on. 

"Gally's sketchbook," I say barely above a whisper and everyone is silent for just a minute. "I didn't know Gally could draw," Winston says coming to sit on the bunk next to me as a comfort. I smile weakly "he's good," I say at first but then correct myself "well he was," I open the sketchbook to a random page and my heart forgets the sadness for a quick second at the sight of the image. "Look Winston it's us," I tell him showing him the image, it was Winston picking on me while we worked. 

"I didn't even know Gally was there," Winston said with a light laugh laced into the words "neither did I, he has pictures of a lot of us. Mostly me I'll admit," I say actually smiling down at the pages, and my heart sinks at the image of Chuck drawn onto a page. "How could you ever love someone like Gally?" Thomas asks disgusted by the notion, and I can't help but scowl at him for the way he says it. 

"Thomas, you only saw a small part of who Gally is. This sketchbook is another small part of a way bigger picture of Gally. He loved the glade and the gladers in it, he wanted to protect everyone. Did he do it in the right way all the time, no. He was stubborn and at times extreme, but his intentions were good, and he loved me," I tell Thomas as my eyes look back down at the page and although the image is me I feel like it's Gally I'm staring at past the graphite. 

"I'm sorry he's gone (Y/n)," Winston says to me grabbing my hand and giving it a squeeze in a comforting manner. I smile at Winston and although it's fake, Winston is reassured that I'm okay by it. After everyone lays down I still stare at the pages in the sketchbook until I fall asleep with it in my hand. 

When I sleep, I feel cold not having Gally's form next to me. I have different flashes of memories in place of dreams, I suppose looking at the sketchbook eased my mind. I dreamt of the glade, Gally, and Chuck alive and well laughing and loving. 

I wanted so badly for this to be real, but I know it's only a dream because they're both dead.