Pasty's story [The Maze Runner]

23

 There was a long silence. Everyone was staring at Minho and Pasty. Minho shook his head in disbelief.

 “Pasty, I-”

 “I don’t know you. I don’t know any of you,” Pasty hissed “Why are you all acting like you’re my friends? Why have you brought me here? Tell me what’s going on!”

 Minho looked to Alby and Newt for help, but they were in as much shock as he was. Eventually, Alby cleared his throat.

 “Pasty, you’ve lived here for five months. I know you’re scared, and I know you’re confused, but believe me, we’re all in the same boat right now. So why don’t we all go and talk this over…calmly!” Alby pointed a warning finger at Pasty’s clenching fists “Don’t even think about hitting anyone. Don’t act innocent, we know you. We know what you were going to do.”

 Pasty’s face creased in confusion, and Minho’s heart melted as her fists relaxed. Pasty… He couldn’t understand why she didn’t know him. He knew he could never forget her. But then he pushed aside his frantic panic for a moment and thought about it. She’d disappeared a few days earlier, and come back up through the Box…which meant she’d come from the same place she had when she first arrived. Someone deliberately took her out of here…and made her forget. Made her forget me.

 Minho let out a yell of anger, storming over to the Box and jumping in. Confused chatter broke out from the other Gladers as Minho began to kick the metal walls of the Box.

 “Take me back, you piece of klunk!” Minho cried “Take me back to the slint-head, pieces of klunk who did this to her!”

 Newt jumped down into the Box and limped over to his friend, putting his hands on his shoulders “Stop,” he said softly “We’ll get her back. You’ll see. It might take time, but right now, we have bigger problems.”

 “Bigger problems?” Minho fumed.

 “Minho, believe it or not, I think the fact that the sun has disappeared is more problematic. The fact that the Doors haven’t closed, and there’s no more food...we’re in deep klunk, bro. If we make it through the night, then we can talk about Pasty.”

 Minho shrugged Newt off furiously and signalled for a boy to drop the rope. He climbed out swiftly, and stormed towards the Homestead. He fumbled in his pocket for the key to the Runner’s storeroom and burst in, breathing hard. He knew what he was looking for.

 He found Pasty’s old boots in her drawer. She’d been wearing her Runner shoes when she disappeared and the boots she’d been sent up into the Glade with five months earlier were tucked neatly in her drawer, along with her other set of clothes. He took her tshirt out, staring at it. It was greying now, and had crease marks all over it. Pasty never folds anything. It smelt faintly of sweat, but it also smelt of her. She always told him he smelt of lemons, but she smelt like the earth itself; like fresh soil, pine leaves, morning dew. Something faintly similar to almonds lingered too. Minho clutched it close to his face, feeling the tears hot on his skin.

 He’d never felt so alone.

 He couldn’t stop thinking of the look on her face when he hugged her. The indignant, almost fearful glare she gave him as she shoved him hard in the chest. He was a stranger to her. They’d barely experienced that before; it was like, when they met, they instantly became friends. It clicked. Pasty and Minho. Minho and Pasty.

 It worked. Like clockwork, it had always worked. But now? It was like someone had dismantled them. Taken out a cog or two. Jumbled them up and left them broken. Minho’s throat was raw.