Escape

Chapter One

The deafening noise of grating metal sent jolts through your skull. You sat bolt upright, gasping for air, chest heaving with the strain of your desperate breaths. The floor was shaking and you felt incredibly disorientated, thoughts swirling around in your mind. One thing stood out, the repeated mantra of 'WICKED is good' You recoiled in shock at the woman's gentle voice. You saw a dark haired boy, staring at you with sad eyes. Something unspoken between you. Everything seemed to empty out of your mind, like a drain. Thoughts and fleeting memories were being sucked out of you, leaving you feeling scared and confused. What the hell was happening? The room began to spin around you, you felt light headed, pulling in shaky breaths in an attempt to calm down. Your eyes rolled back into your skull and you collapsed onto the hard floor.

Light penetrated your eyes, you squinted into the blinding brightness. Holding one hand over your face and shuffling back until your spine hit the cold metal wall. Voices. You stared up at a large group of people who were gathered around the room you were in. A tall, blonde boy was standing beside and you recoiled in horror, springing up and backing away. The boy smiled reassuringly, holding his hands out, palms facing upwards as if he was confronting a scared animal. Shouts and yells of "What's going on Newt?" "Tell us slinthead!" "What the shuck is happening?" reverberated through your throbbing head. You clutched your hands to your ears, pressing them tight against your head. The tall boy cocked his head to the side, concern ruling his handsome features.
"Hey there, it's okay. We're not going to hurt you."
His voice was melodic and accented. British, a thought popped into your head. You glared at the boy in mistrust, edging further away from him. You felt the cold walls of the room pressing into your spine, a shout from behind you made you whip around.
"A girl! It's a shucking girl!" The boy who said it was frowning, fists clenched at his sides. You stared up at him, completely confused.
"Hey, Gally. Don't scare her."
You turned back to the blonde boy, "I'm not scared."
The people standing around all quietened down, as if a smothering fog had descended upon them.
A dark skinned boy jumped down into the room, moving closer to you. You stood still as stone, watching the newcomer wearily.
He spoke, not to you but to the group of boys, yet he never broke eye contact. "Get her a place to stay and some food. Now. If anybody touches her they'll be spending a night out in the maze."
The crowd dispersed, you watched them go with a detached interest. The blonde boy -Newt- and the leader were whispering heatedly, the dark skinned boy throwing his arms up in exasperation. You walked towards them cautiously, suddenly Newt turned to you. His eyes were crinkling at the corners, mouth set in a friendly grin.
"Greenie, come with me."
He climbed out of the room, and you followed. You were standing in the middle of a huge green pasture, a dense forest was to your left. You sucked in a surprised gasp, four colossal stone walls towered around you. Ivy draped itself on the stone, clinging to the sides. Newt was watching you intently, a sad smile on his face. You turned to him and raise an eyebrow, gesturing casually at the entrapping walls. He chuckled softly, "You'll learn soon enough, Greenie."
"Greenie?" You ask, furrowing your brows quizzically.
"Well, you tell me your name and I'll stop calling you Greenie." Newt replied, grinning.
A thought raised unbidden in your head. Sarah, my name is Sarah. It floated on the surface and you snatched it away before it could sink back down into the dark, empty abyss that was your memoryless mind. "Sarah!" You said the name as if it was a lifeline, something to hold onto.
Newt smiled, "Sarah, I like that."
Your name on his tongue sounded like the best thing you had ever heard. Well, that you could remember.

Newt turned around and began waking towards a tall, rickety wooden structure that looked as if it could topple over at any second. A ladder with uneven rungs led to the top, a wide platform that overlooked the area.
"What is this place?" You asked, staring down at the bustling activity below where boys were going about their jobs.
Newt turned to face you, sad brown eyes staring into yours.
"We call it the Glade."
You leaned back from the railing, suddenly feeling light headed. A nauseating feeling like sea sickness (how the hell did you remember that feeling?) washed over you like a tide. You clutched at your stomach and slid to the wooden floor. Newt was on his knees beside you, hand lightly resting on your back as if he was afraid that you might break if he touched you. You saw his lips moving but heard nothing, you shook your head quickly, different sounds were coming into your mind. The last thing you saw before you lost consciousness was Newts worried face.

"Sarah, WICKED is good." Fleeting images surfaced in your mind; Embracing a dark haired boy with the words "See you tomorrow," still sour on your tongue; Lying on a gurney with several masked doctors peering at you; The silver haired woman, saying "WICKED is good" over and over to you as you both stood in an empty hallway; Leaning over a digital screen, typing in code and looking up to see the same dark haired boy gazing at you.

You gasped for air like a drowning man, hand reaching desperately at your throat. Your mouth was dry, skin cold and clammy. It was dark and you began to panic when you couldn't make out anything. You pushed yourself up, rubbing your eyes in exhaustion and confusion. The dreams had seemed so vivid, and so, so real. A shuffling noise sounded to your right and you crouched down, arms held out in front of you defensively.
"Sarah?"
It was Newt, sandy hair messy and tousled as if he had woken from a restless sleep. He was looking at you peculiarly, like you were a puzzle he could not solve.
You licked your chapped lips, blinking in the dim light.
"WICKED is good." You said without hesitation. Newt clenched his jaw, frowning.
"Wait, what is WICKED? Newt, why am I thinking this? In my head all I can hear is her saying WICKED is good."
Newt looked scared in the dim light, you could see his face cast in shadow.
"Her? Who?"
"Her! I don't know! All she says is that WICKED is good."
"This is bad Sarah. Really bad. Don't tell anyone, please." He was moving closer to you, so close now that you could feel his body heat.
"What's going on Newt? What is WICKED? What is the Glade? Why can't I remember anything!"
"Don't worry, it's the same for all of us. You'll find out on the tour."
You shook your head in disappointment, scowling at the British boy.
He shrugged apologetically, "Might as well get some sleep."
You rolled your eyes and turned away, annoyed at yourself more than him. You tried to get comfortable on the bumpy wooden floor, listening to Newt sigh and then move around.

After a few minutes of silent darkness you heard Newt begin to move around again. You tried to ignore him, closing your eyes and hugging yourself for warmth. A soft woollen blanket was placed over you with gentle hands, you stayed as still as marble, listening to Newts rhythmic breathing as he smoothed out the blanket and tucked the corners into your sides. Then he was gone, climbing down the creaky ladder. Leaving you to contemplate everything that had happened since arriving in the Glade.