"Then bad luck is all I got," Newt's vision blurred, but she wouldn't let the tears fall. She'd cried enough and it didn't change anything. "Doesn't matter, liking people hurts when they leave. My fault or not. The not knowing is even worse than knowing they're dead."

If they were back where they belonged did they remember her? Did they miss her like she missed them? Was disappearing the same as dying, just without a body?

She hadn't been able to help any of them. She wondered if she would have if she could, or if she'd run away like she did as her brother screamed. Not knowing... it was empty.

"I lost everyone I ever knew. They either die really bad or just go away," she didn't know where the anger boiled up from.

Only moment's before coming to the kitchen she just felt hollow , blank. Dead inside. Now she felt violent, wanting to strike out at fate, or luck, or whatever was responsible. Maybe even sock God in the nose.

It may be something bigger than all of them, but in the end all SHE knew was that she was doomed to be alone.