I really hate people. Why don't they just deal with their own problems instead of trying to solve mine? Because that's definitely what they try to do in group therapy.

"Okay guys, so today we have a newcomer. He'll be coming in a bit later and I hope you'll all welcome him with smiles," says Crawford in that sickly sweet voice of hers.

Poor sod. He's gonna have to deal with this bloody woman patronising him twice a week.

The patients surrounding me nod in unison like they're under some sort of spell, apart from one.

Teresa.

Oh god. She's going to start something isn't she? Bloody hell.

"Teresa?" Crawford smiles, "You didn't nod."

The black haired girl looks up and smiles.

"Well, you see, Dr. Crawford, I'm not going to listen to everything you say so I don't see why I should nod. Let's face it, the shank's probably going to be too psycho to understand what I'm saying anyway."

Bloody hell.

Crawford's facial expression turns from sickeningly sweet to terrifyingly stern in a matter of moments.

"Teresa Agnes. You know better than to use such sensitive language. You forget, we're only trying to help you here. You and everyone else."

Teresa stands up, causing a few of the surrounding patients to flinch in fear.

Well, her outbursts are quite famous around here.

"You're trying to help me? Well, Dr. Crawford, I've been here three years and all you've done is patronise me. You call that helping?"

She stops suddenly, staring at the door, causing the rest of the circle to turn in the same direction.

Oh great, the greenie's arrived.

I turn in my chair and see the newcomer. He's a boy of average build, brown hair, with eyes that match perfectly.

Why are you staring? Stop staring. Wait, you can't. Why can't you? What is about those eyes that you can't tear yourself away from? Bloody hell Newt, he's going to think you're more crazy than you already are. Wait, why do you care? You don't care what he thinks. Or do you?

He clears his throat, nervously.

"Uh, hi. This is group therapy, right?"

Dr. Crawford smiles.

Again with the damn smile that makes me want to puke.

"Ah, you must be Thomas. Come take a seat next to Teresa", she says, pointing at the seat directly opposite me.

Why that one? There's a number of empty seats. Why the one opposite me? Again, why do you care?

Thomas nervously shuffles over to the empty chair, scratching the back of his neck anxiously. He sits opposite me and gives me a brief half smile. I give one back.

Wait. You did what? Why did you smile at this kid? You don't like human contact. Did your heart rate just go up? What. No. You're imagining things. Wouldn't be the first time.

I focus my attention on something else. Unfortunately that something else happens to be Dr. Crawford's annoying voice.

"Okay, so now that we're all here, I think it would be nice if we all introduced ourselves to Thomas. Please, Newt, you go first. State your name and why you're here."

Bloody hell, this isn't Alcoholic's Anonymous. And you just said my name you stupid cow.

I consider protesting, but the curiosity in Thomas' eyes changes my mind.

Seriously? You haven't even spoken to this guy and you're already making decisions based on what he thinks? What is wrong with you?

I reluctantly stand up.

"Newt. I-uh- I hear voices...in my head."

I quickly sit down.

I hate this. I bloody hate this.

"Thank you Newt. Winston, you next."

I look down. I know the condition of everybody here. Winston and Jeff. Drug addictions. Clint. Rough home life. Teresa. Abused as a kid. Thomas-

"I hear voices in my head too."

My head snaps up.

Wait. What? No-one, no-one has ever had the same thing as me. Never in one of these bloody sessions have I ever heard someone say exactly the same words as me.

I watch as he sits down sheepishly and drown out the noise of everyone else talking.

I wonder what the voices in his head say? I wonder if he might be the one person who actually understands me. The one person who could help me get rid of them. Help me control them.

"Okay guys. So I thought we'd try something a little different today. I'm gonna put you guys in pairs and you can talk about your week with each other. Sound good? Okay."

Well we don't really have a choice in the matter do we? Wait. If we're going in pairs then maybe I'll end up with Thomas. Maybe I might actually be able to talk to someone who understands.

"Jeff. You're with Clint. Newt. You're with-"

Please be Thomas. Please let me be with Thomas, please.

"Teresa."

Shit.

Thomas ended up with Winston. As we move to sit with our partner, Thomas ends up one seat away from me.

Close enough to listen to.

Teresa sits by me.

"So, has Alby told you that greenie over there is his new roommate?"

Oh great. Alby knows him.

"Oh no, he hasn't. We're not really on speaking terms at the moment."

She looks shocked.

"What? Why? You guys are best friends. What the hell happened Newt?"

I shrug before looking down at the floor. I don't want to talk about it. I hear her sigh.

"It's them, isn't it? The voices."

I slowly nod. I feel her hand on my shoulder. I don't know why but I've always felt like I can trust her.

"What else did they tell you Newt?" her tone is serious now.

What the hell. Might as well tell her.

"To be friends with Gally?"

Never make a statement sound like a question. Always makes it sound worse than it is.

Teresa checks to see if Crawford is looking away before slapping me round the head.

"You idiot! You know he's from The Glade, right? You know he murdered a thirteen year old boy in cold blood? How could you be so stupid, Newt?"

Out of the corner of my eye I see Thomas' jaw twitch.

Frustration? Anger? Hatred? Has he been listening to us?

"Trust me Teresa, if I had a choice I wouldn't be friends with him. But I have to be. I have to do what they say."

"Newt. You know they're not real, don't you?"

"Yes. They are," I say through gritted teeth.

Seriously?! Even you now Teresa. You think I'm crazy too?

She stands up, catching the attention of everyone there.

"No, they're not and the sooner you realise it, the better."

I stand now. I'm a little taller than her and so I look down.

"They're real Teresa. They. Are. Real."

"Guys," Dr. Crawford steps in carefully, as Teresa continues to taunt me, causing my anger to build and my hand to curl up into a fist. Crawford sees my action.

"Okay, so I think that's today's session over," she says with a tone of panic, "Everyone back to your rooms, we'll continue on Thursday."

I breathe out just as I see Thomas glance at me before walking out the door.

----------------------------------------------
I updated earlier than I said I would! Also, I am very sorry about the tiny little death cure reference in there. Certain readers (you know who you are) you now have permission to banish me to the grievers. I am deeply ashamed of myself.

Anyway I hope you liked this guys!

Love you all,
LJ xx