Minho,

I really, honestly hope that you never have to read this letter. But, if you are, it's because WICKED won. They have my brain, the Right Arm failed its mission, and we aren't living in a world any better than how I left it. Sadly, I wish I could say that that's the only reason I hope you don't read this letter.

If you're reading this letter, it means that there is a high likely hood of you ending up hating me. I have two very shocking things to confess to you, both of which will be talked about here. Funnily enough, (in an ironic hopeless kind of way), the first shocking confession is probably going to astound you to the point where you ask yourself what else could he possibly have left to say.

Let me explain briefly why I did what I did.

Before we left to go to Denver, before we even left the WICKED headquarters, after we found out that Newt was not immune to the Flare, he gave me an envelope. His instructions were to read it when I knew it was time and to follow out the orders no matter what, even if I was against it with every fiber of my being.

Naturally, me being the shuck head I am, I didn't open it while we were at the Crank-place, while Newt was holding that gun. While he spoke about how he was scared of spiraling into madness. While he stared at me and urged me to read the note and do something. I did absolutely nothing, which was ultimately what caused what I did do.

On my way to the WICKED headquarters with the Right Arm, we ran into a massive group of Cranks. Newt was there. He looked horrible, hair ripped out partially, bleeding, with an insane look on his face. I'll never forget the way he stared at me when he saw me, like he hated me with every part of him.

I don't blame him. I talked to him, begging him to come with me, to let me tie him up and bring him with us to the cure. He yelled at me about how I was a terrible person, how I never even read the note. How I was never his friend in the first place.

I read the note. Minho, can you guess what it said? It said: Kill me. If you were ever my friend, kill me.

Two simple sentences scrawled in black marker that will never leave my mind. I kept begging and pleading, stalling, trying to come up with a way to do anything except pull the trigger of that gun.

Newt told me how he got his limp. He climbed up the wall in the maze and jumped off. He tried to kill himself.

I was nearly broken at this time, if I'm not anymore, and Newt was screaming at me, yelling for me to do. To kill him. To save him from becoming one of those savages. The anger wasn't helping me. And then, all traces of anger and psychoticness gone, he looked at me with wide eyes and begged. "Please Tommy. Please."

I pulled the trigger. I killed my best friend. I killed him.

Right now, I can't think about it without wanting to kill myself. I'm sitting at a desk typing this out for you, a letter you might never read, while I finally let the tears fall. You have every right to hate me, to wish me dead, to plead to some nonexistent god that I get what I deserve.

I just thought you should hear that before you read what I have to confess next. I don't want any martyr like actions from me to cloud your judgement. You had to know the lowest of my low moments. And now you do.

Anyway, the second reason is a bit more emotional, I suppose you could call it. Please, don't hate me for this reason. If anything, hate me for the other thing I just explained.

I guess I should start out by saying that I'm bi. I know that everyone always assumed that I was in love with Teresa, but in all honesty, she was my best friend who I might have felt an attraction to at one point. I don't even know if I can call her that anymore. Since I met him - that's right, it's a dude - I've been completely starstruck.

I know it's a shuck faced thing to do with the world we're living in, but I fell in love. I fell so hard that I think I broke myself. I haven't been able to think of much else besides him (and saving our lives but that's a given) and it's been distracting me like crazy.

Wondering who it is?

Yeah, I'll get to that.

Let me set the scene: It's the afternoon in the maze. The doors are a few hours from closing when suddenly, this new Greenie Glader catches sight of one of his precious Runners sprinting past the doors and into the Glade. The boy is astounded for a moment as the other boy falls to the ground, completely collapsed. Something in his heart catches as he runs to him, hoping and praying that he isn't about to go through the Changing or whatever it is.

As soon as this new kid lays eyes on the Runner, he knows he's screwed, because well... This Runner is beautiful, despite the sweat and the dirt on his face and clothes. When the Runner begins talking, the boy likes to think that he was slightly turned off from his rudeness, but in all honestly, it just lured him more in.

Months pass and the boy and the Runner become best friends. They go through hell and back because that's just what they do, trying to keep themselves alive. And the boy, now second in command of these Gladers, is still spiraling ever deeper in the black hole of suck: love.

Guess what, shuck head? If you haven't honestly figured it out by now, I might as well say it flat-out. I'm fricking in love with you. Have been forever. And I know that if you didn't hate me before, odds are you hate me now.

I wish I could say the same. Sometimes I think it would make life so much easier, hating you instead of loving you, worrying over everything that could go wrong.

Wishing for your love back.

I can't quite explain why I do as I do, why I feel like I feel, or why I'm a shuck headed idiot, but I thought you had to know.

Let me say it plainly one last time:

I love you.

If I die today, you should at least know that my last thought will be you. It always will be.

With love,

Thomas

I know that in the Death Cure Thomas writes notes to Brenda and Minho while he's waiting. This is immediately what popped into my head and shouted at me to write. XD Hope you liked it! :D

Dani ;)