Dear Teresa,

Happy tenth birthday! I know we haven't known each other for all that long, but you're all that I've got and I'm all that you've got. It would suck not to let anybody say happy birthday to you, huh? Nobody likes a birthday where the attention isn't all on them! Anyway, it's obvious that I can't go out and buy you a present, since those mean grown ups wouldn't dare let us go out alone. Maybe they'll let me go out when I'm a big ten year old like you. But I hope you like what I made you!

Love,

Thomas

P.S. Maybe when I'm a big ten year old and I can leave this sad place, I can take you out to the playground and we can swing together.

Dear Thomas,

You know, there is such a thing as words. You could've easily just said this to me instead of getting ahold of a pencil and paper and leaving it under my pillow. You're lucky I sleep with my hands under my pillow, because I was starting to think that you forgot my birthday.

Anyway, I really like your drawing. Even though I don't think my hair looks like spaghetti strings, and my hair isn't orange either, it's a cute picture. I am going to guess that you drew us swinging together? Cute. Thank you for the happy birthday. :)

Love,

Teresa

P.S. I think I want to call you Tom. Is that okay? It feels better like that.

Dear Teresa,

Happy twelfth birthday! Woah, you're getting old. Kidding.

You still look the same as you did last year. Except I think you're getting prettier. Are you getting prettier? You're getting prettier. I kind of wanted to ask you a question. I know you're a big twelve year old, and I'm a little eleven year old, but I think I like you. I kind of want to be your boyfriend, so I can hug you and hold your hand. I'm not sure what the word means, but I still want it to happen! I'll figure it out soon enough. I hope you like your present this year!

Love,

Tom

P.S. I'm still going to take you swinging on the playground.

Dear Tom,

Thank you again for the happy birthday. I guess we still haven't established the whole, "this could be spoken" thing? Hehe.

Thank you for saying I'm pretty. It means a lot to me, actually. I think I would love to be your girlfriend. Hugging and holding hands sounds fun. I've always wanted to do that with someone, to see what being more than friends looks like. Maybe when you take me swinging, we can hold hands on the swings!

Love,

Teresa

P.S. I really like this paper ring you made me. It fits really good on my pinkie. Thank you.

Dear Teresa,

Happy fifteenth birthday! Woah, time has flown by. Know what today is? Do you? Eh, I'll just remind you.

OUR THREE YEAR ANNIVERSARY! I have the biggest surprise ever for you tonight. It'll top the drawing, the paper heart I cut out, the paper ring, the song I wrote you, and the kiss on the lips! It'll top all of the birthday presents I ever gave you, and I hope you'll love it.

WICKED has no idea about any of it, so when I meet you on the third floor by the men's bathroom, we have to be really quiet. Shh. I'm going to get slapped if they find out. IT'S GOING TO BE SO MUCH FUN!

Love,

Tom

P.S. Sorry I couldn't take you to a real playground.

Dear Teresa,

Sooo.. happy day-after-your-fifteenth birthday. I just wanted to make sure there isn't any.. erm, awkwardness? Is that a word? I hope you still love me. I'm sorry I sucked.

Love,

Tom

P.S. Sorry I left before you woke up. I love you.

Dear Tom,

You didn't suck. I want to cover two things about last night.

I love you. I do. You're my best friend. You can't even imagine how quick my heart was beating when you led me down to the basement and showed me the swingset you built me. I wanted to puke out of excitement when you told me you had been gathering the materials and hiding them under your bed for years. Swinging is a lot harder than it looks, huh? I hope I didn't tire you out too much when you had to push me on the swing for two hours. It was so much fun. Thank you for everything. And I still love you, even though it broke and I fell flat on my butt. You probably shouldn't be a builder. ;)

And there's no awkwardness at all. I didn't really know what I was doing, either. I think it was mostly romantic. I loved how you snuck the candles out of the kitchen and lit them all. You didn't suck, either. Isn't what we did how you make babies? Hopefully there's no babies in my stomach.

I love you always,

Teresa

P.S. I still have all of your gifts, and no matter what happens, I'll never forget this one.

Dear Teresa,

Happy seventeenth birthday. I guess I don't have much to write this year, I'm not in a very good mood. I haven't been since they told us we were going into that place. The Maze. I didn't realize that when we built it, we would eventually have to go in it. It might sound stupid, but I'm really scared, Teresa. I don't want to forget you. I don't want to forget everything we've done together. A lot of people sent into there die, y'know? We've seen so many people die.. so many. I don't want to die. I don't want to go in there and die without knowing who you are. I'd rather know who you are and die than die without any memories of you.

I'm sorry I got us both tasered when I tried to break you out two weeks ago. I just wanted you to be safe, I wanted to make sure you lived. But I guess I failed. I'm going in tomorrow, so I guess this is the last night we can spend together. Tonight. On our five year anniversary. Crazy. I guess I'll put all of this shit into words, then. Here we go.

I'm sorry for pulling on your hair when we were wrestling when we were nine. It got you in trouble because you cried, and I've felt extremely guilty ever since. I'm sorry for throwing temper tantrums when you said you didn't want to play with me all those years ago. I was just lonely. I'm sorry for biting your lip when we tried to kiss more deeply for the first time, I don't know what my teeth were even doing in that situation. I'm sorry I made you fall when I built you that swingset, I guess I should've made sure it was a little more sturdy, huh? I'm sorry I almost burnt you with the lighter when I was lighting the candles. I didn't realize that you were coming up behind me to help since my hands were shaking so much. I'm sorry about the time when I cried in your arms when I was ten because WICKED had told me my Mom died that day. I shouldn't have put all that pressure on you. I'm sorry about that fight we got in a few nights ago, and I walked away once you started to cry. I'm so sorry about that, I just can't stand to see you cry, Teresa. I should've never walked away. I'm sorry I kicked you in the lady parts when you started tickling my sides that one day a few years ago. My body does crazy things when being tickled. I'm sorry that you lost the picture I drew for you for your tenth birthday. Attached to this letter, you can see I drew you another one. :)

I pinkie promise you, Teresa, that I willremember you. When you come into The Maze, even though I won't have any of my memories, I will still remember you. I mean, how couldn't I? You're my best memory. My best friend. My angel. And you want to know how you know if I remembered you or not? Right when you arrive, I'm going to sing you the song I wrote for your fourteenth birthday. And your cheeks are going to turn red and you're going to slap my chest and kiss me just like you did the first time.

I love you forever and ever,

Thomas

P.S. You're my Once Upon a Time that will end in a Happily Ever After. I promise. 3

Dear Tom,

I just watched them put you in The Box. You're actually gone. I can't stop crying. My bedroom door is locked and I'm clinging onto your letter. I'm sorry that I smudged it a little bit, my tears are kinda wet. I want to kill all of them. I hate them, Tom. We've evolved so much within the past eight years, from friends, to best friends, to lovers, to soulmates. And now that's all washed away. It's all forgotten. I pushed by the guards right before they put you in, and I yelled your name. As they pulled me away, you made eye contact with me. You looked scared, but the look in your eyes was distant. You had no idea who I was, Tom. How could that be possible? You bastard.

I was reading all seven of the notes you wrote me, and I just realized how much of a little bastard you are. Leaving me, forgetting me after all of this time. God, I hate you. How could you leave me? How could you do this? You promised you wouldn't forget me, you promised that we were going to end in a Happily Ever After. You lied. I could never hate you more.

Sincerely,

Teresa

Dear Tom,

I didn't mean that last note. Not like you're ever going to read it, but I swear I didn't mean it. I love you. I know it's not your fault. I know we are going to have a Happily Ever After. I'll show them. I'll see you in a few days, my love.

I'll love you forever and ever,

Teresa

P.S. I don't hate them either. After all, WICKED is good.

Dear Tom,

I got my memories back. You didn't. I really wished you did. Then you could remember all the times we shared. Then you could remember how good WICKED really is. I guess you have a reason to be mad at me, Tom. I'm on the Berg right now. You're with Newt, Minho, and I think that's it. I'm sorry you have this weird, atrocious thought in your mind that I betrayed you. I never wanted to. I remember when you used to trust me, Tom. What happened? I told you to trust me, and you didn't. I would never actually hurt you. I was just trying to protect you. You should've trusted me.

Anyway, Brenda seems nice. She's super pretty. I don't think she likes me very much, but then again, neither do you, huh? I have noticed how you don't let anyone else call you Tom, though. You seem to get angry when anyone else calls you it besides me, even though it's like you get angry everytime I open my mouth.

I think the thing that is hitting me in the gut most is how I can't tell you about all of the memories. You won't even talk to me, Tom! I tried to tell you to trust me, I tried to tell you to forgive me, I tried! I even kissed you. The look in your eyes said you felt nothing, though. And I guess I understand. I guess Brenda can be your new Happily Ever After. She's good for you.

If I die, because I really don't care if I do, I want you to know that I've only ever cared for you. I love you, Thomas.

Your Once Upon A Time,

Teresa

P.S. If you ever read this, and you ever escape, go to the WICKED facility and go to room 435. Look in the top drawer, underneath all of the magazines. Those are all of the letters you wrote me.

Dear Tom,

I'm not actually writing this note. I'm kind of thinking it in my head. I don't have many accessible places to get paper while I'm underneath a piece of ceiling. I just watched you go through the TransFlat. Holding hands with Brenda. I'm glad you got through safely, Tom. I really am. It really hurts, you know. And I'm not talking about the big chunk of ceiling that's currently making my waist down numb. It hurts emotionally.

The letter I wrote to you in the Berg is currently in the back pocket of my pants. I guess you'll never get it. It's okay, Tom. I saw you say you were sorry. I didn't hear you, but I know your lips so well that I didn't need to hear you. I guess I should be the one apologizing. You didn't let me finish, Tom. You didn't even let me finish my last words. I was trying to say that I only ever cared for you, I was trying. I just wanted you to say that you forgave me.. I guess that'll never happen now. I understand though. You would've died if you stayed in any longer. Like you said in you letter for my seventeenth birthday, you would never want to die without knowing who I was. Maybe you'll figure it out some day.

I'll never forget the way you held me when I felt upset with our lives, how you whispered that stressing won't help anything. That we should just be happy that we had each other. The way you came up behind me and kissed me neck. I'll never forget our first time, I'll never forget how you took years just to build a swingset for me. I'll never forget how you snuck food out of the kitchen when I was on my period so I would be happy. I'll never forget how you told me fairytales that your Mom used to tell you since I never had a Mom to do that for me. I'll never forget how you taught me how to love.

It's getting really hard to think now, and I just want to pull myself out from underneath here and get through the TransFlat.

It's gone. It just disappeared, and so did you. My vision is starting to get blurry, and I can feel my legs burning. I think the fire from the roof is spreading to my body.

I hope you have a good life, Tom. I'll be sitting on the swingset waiting for you in Heaven. I love you.

Always and forever,

Teresa

P.S. You're my happily ever after, even though I wasn't y-