" WHITE BLOOD " T. MAZE RUNNER¹

eighteen.

[CHAPTER EIGHTEEN]
these are my confessions

~

As Eleanor laid in bed that night, she allowed her mind to wander. Darkness surrounded her, the only light being the occasional glimpse of the moon outside whenever a soft breeze would blow the curtains. She listened to the crickets chirping outside, along with Minho's obnoxious snoring, and just thought.

She saw George that night. He was there, sitting on the log beside the boy named Harry. And yet no one else acted as though they saw him. George was dead, and she knew that quite well, though he still managed to haunt her mind- whether she was awake or asleep. He was always there, whether him being the only thing she thought about or just some memory in the back of her mind trying to push its way to the front.

Eleanor tried to sleep, though every time she closed her eyes she would see the same dead boy that had been haunting her dreams since the day she killed him. So instead, she decided to lay awake, staring up into the darkness of the room, simply waiting until she was so exhausted that she passed out.

Unfortunately for her, that point didn't come very easily, and Eleanor was beginning to grow restless. Minho's snores were beginning to grow louder, and thus become even more obnoxious as the girl tried her hardest to sleep. Then, the next thing she knew, she was slowly standing up from her bed, careful not to make too much noise in fear of waking up the Runner across the room.

The entire Homestead was quiet as Eleanor stepped into the hallway; the silence only caused her heart to race faster. She slowly made her way down the hall, careful not to step too harshly on to the floorboards, for they would creak if she put too much weight on them. Her destination was another bedroom just down the hall from her own.

The door was closed when she stopped in front of it, and no sound came from the room. She figured that he was asleep, and though her conscious told her to turn around and head back to bed, she still reached for the doorknob. The door creaked slightly as she opened it, though the boy in the room did not stir. Eleanor slowly crossed the room, the complete darkness that surrounded her making her feel uneasy, until she was standing in front of his bed. She kneeled down beside him, swallowing nervously before reaching out and tapping him on the shoulder.

"Newt," she whispered, but the boy did not stir. She tapped him again, this time on the cheek, and called his name louder. Newt groaned as he woke up, swatting her hand away before bringing his hand up to his face and rubbing his eyes. He sat up slightly in his bed, looking rather confused as he stared around into the darkness. Then, it seemed as though his eyes finally adjusted, for they went wide as soon as they landed on the girl beside his bed.

"Bloody hell, Ellie." The boy quickly reached down and grabbed the single sheet that he used as a blanket, bringing it over his body self-consciously. "What's the matter?"