black veil ◦ scorch trials || thomas

11.

ELEVEN ; WILL O' THE WISP

     Had he always looked like that?

     Lips parted and no creases on his forehead. The steady rise and fall of his chest as he lay on his back with his head turned towards her. Had he always looked so serene? Did he always look so free of worries? Or could only sleep bring him the calm he needed, to get through the day?

     The sky was a dark blue, though it gradually begun to lighten the closer morning came. There was still no trace of the sun, and Evan was shivering beneath the extra sweater. She assumed it was somewhere between four and five in the morning, which would explain the cold and the lack of sunlight.

     Her eyes were locked on his face, though his features were blurred by her unfocused gaze. She felt the sweat drip down her back, her breathing labored. Letting out a frustrated breath, she squeezed her eyes shut and buried her hands in her hair.

     As soon as she averted her gaze, the sliver of tranquility she felt disappeared from her body. The calm demeanor of Thomas that had put her at ease vanished from her thoughts and Evan bit down on the inside of her cheek.

     The painful images flashing through her head became more apparent and Evanna rapidly shook her head, as if it would rid her of them. The intense heat, the deafening shouts and screams and the cries surrounded her and she felt as though she was choking. Like someone had placed an anvil on her chest.

     She couldn't breathe. Her throat constricted and her eyes refused to open. Evan pulled at the roots of her hair. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip to contain the scream desperately trying to fight its way out. She felt stuck, and she couldn't get out.

     Evanna clenched her jaw and pressed her hands against the side of her head. A strangled sob escaped her lips but she couldn't stop. The pressure on her chest was too great, the ache in her head too agonizing.

     The sunken grey eyes of an old man was all she could see once her mind brought her back to that day. The eyes of someone so determined and sure of almost everything. And Evan watched as they dulled. She watched as the fire in them slowly diminished the closer they got to the blinding light of the exit.

     She watched helplessly as he stumbled forward and fell to his knees, pushing her into the arms of someone she couldn't see. The heat enveloped him before she could shout his name, cry for him. He was out of her sight the second he let go.

     Why had she dreamt it now? After all these years, why now? She couldn't figure out why, and what the point of her remembering something so vague could possibly be. Evan knew the old man was familiar. He was someone important to her, but she couldn't put her finger on it. All she could see were his eyes; washed out and hopeless.

     She shook her head once more, pulling her knees to her chest. Over the screams, Evan could hear a distant murmur. It was as if someone was humming something. A song or a simple ditty, she wasn't sure. But that, too, was familiar to her.

     Evan wanted to kick and thrash and scream in exasperation. Everything was coming back, and yet it didn't help her at all. It was all so unclear and frustratingly vague, she almost wished none of it had come back at all.

     The cold sweat on her back had her shivering, and Evanna buried her head between her knees as she wrapped her arms around them. She tried to make herself as small as possible. As if she thought could hide from the world.

     She couldn't.

     And the anger she felt towards everything and everyone slowly morphed into exhaustion. Her quick breathing slowed down gradually and wavering breaths slipped past her parted lips as she tried to gather herself before the others woke up.