dandelions || 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘩𝘰 (COMPLETED)

vi - just a dream?

JUST A DREAM?
-
"i've never felt so happy."

• • •

          AND IT WAS MINHO, of all people.

oh no, please no.

"what are you doing here?" she asked him. she could feel her cheeks heating up and turning a shade of bright red, but she prayed the low light was concealing it well enough for him not to notice.

"it's my room, shebean. remember? i think i have more of a right to be in here than you. and if you must know, i was just coming to find a fresh shirt to sleep in." he noticed the book in her hands, and his face changed expression suddenly. he straightened his posture and snatched it away from her in one swift movement. "you haven't read this, have you?" he questioned, inspecting it frantically.

"no."

"good."

"why?"

silence for a second, and then, "important glader stuff. too important for you to know."

the girl rolled her eyes at him, irritated by his constant changes in attitude. "is that everything?"

"don't go snooping again; it won't get you anywhere. lucky i caught you, not some shank like gally."

lyn could only imagine what the angry boy would have done if she was going through his belongings instead, but in some ways she wished it was him rather than minho.

"right. got it. you can go now," she told him, ushering him out of the door.

just before he walked away, he turned and asked her, "do you keep speaking to me?"

"what? well i'm speaking to you right now, so—"

"no, like, without actually talking."

"what are you on about? are you feeling alright?"

"doesn't matter."

she heard his footsteps grow quieter as he left the room. weird.

and a few minutes later he came back again, this time with a little pot of stew and water. "frypan's special. we thought you'd be too tired to come down and eat with us, but we didn't want you to starve."

"thanks." and then he left again, and this time didn't reappear.

the stew was delicious, but lyn wasn't sure whether it tasted that way because she didn't remember the last time she'd eaten or because the people there were actually good cooks.

and she drifted off to sleep with a full stomach, not even noticing the fact that she hadn't changed her clothes, and still thinking about minho and that book.

~

she's around ten or eleven, and she's surrounded by people. boys, mostly, except for one other girl. but she recognises some of the faces.
minho is stood beside her, thomas on her other side. and newt, gally, alby, alex and ben are there too, spread around the room. and a few other boys she doesn't know the names of. they are all happy, all laughing, and all friends.

but suddenly they all disappear, the other girl with dark brown hair included.

and it's just lyn, in a huge, white room. she can't move. the only thing she can hear is a voice repeating, "wicked is good." she hears herself scream. a long, blood-curdling scream.

"no!"

she places her hands over her ears and hugs her legs tight against her chest, willing the torture to stop.

and then everything goes black and noiseless, and she isn't sure which is worse — the deafening noises piercing her ears or the deadly quiet.

sometimes silence can be the loudest thing imaginable.

the girl is now around fourteen, and a man in an all-white suit approaches her. she's still in an endless-looking room. "rat man," she whispers. she knows that's not his real name, but she remembers the boys calling him that. he glares at her, dragging her to her feet. she follows him towards an open door, and behind it lies a blinding light. he steps aside for her to walk through.

she does.

and then she's in the box. on her way into the glade, she presumes.

but when the box stops and the top is pulled apart, there's no sign of the gladers she's grown familiar with. instead, there's a crowd of different people — if they can even be classed as that — with sores across their bodies and empty-looking eyes. she can't tell if they even have eyes, actually. they all edge towards her, reaching out, knives in hand.

she hears a whisper of her name, and a strong hand grips her mouth.

lyn's eyes snapped open. alby was looking down at her and put a finger to his lips, implying for her to be quiet. he released his grasp on her mouth as she got up and followed him out of the homestead, already dressed since she didn't have anything else to change into the previous night.

the sun only just rising, the light hit the glade in a flawless, beautiful way, illuminating all the right places.

alby didn't speak a word to the greenie until the both of them were at least twenty metres away from all of the sleeping gladers in their hammocks and sleeping bags.

"time to make your mark, greenie." he handed the girl a knife, and carried on walking beside her until they reached a part of the stone wall with at least fifty names sprawled across it, some of them with a line through their centre.

"if you're really the last one," he sighed, "make it special. put it right there." he pointed towards a large empty space above minho's name and to the left of one of the crossed out ones — nick.

she began to carve her three letters into the stone, and couldn't help wondering who the crossed out people were — and why they'd been crossed out in the first place. alby seemed to sense her confusion, since when she was halfway through the "y" he mumbled, "they're dead. nick was leader before me. we had to banish ander. and that one there, he... jumped. off the cliff."

lyn didn't know what on earth the cliff was, but decided not to push any further; alby was obviously struggling just thinking about them. "it's not always been like this, ya know. when we first arrived — around thirty of us — we had supplies, and the animals, and the homestead, although we've extended it since then. we had everything we needed, but no order. and order is very important.

"we lost some to fear. some to the creators, we're assuming. and no, before you ask, we don't know why we're here — or who the creators actually are. there's the beetle blades constantly watching us and relaying information to them, we know that much." as if on cue, a small metal cylinder around three inches in diameter by their feet caught the girl's attention.

its body had the word wicked sprawled across it, illuminated by a red light shining from inside.

"wicked?" she asked.

alby merely shrugged. "we're just as confused as you."

the pair stood in silence for a moment.

"anyway, you'll have your tour soon. minho volunteered to do it." her eyes met alby's once again as she heard the loathsome boy's name.

she must have had a notable look of distaste on her face since alby laughed and said, "he's never volunteered to give a tour before. says every greenie annoys the klunk out of him with all their questions. he either hates you or loves you, no inbetween." and as much as she knew she hated him, she hoped it was the latter.