The Original (The Maze Runner, Newt)

10 - Letter to the Creators

Chapter 10 - Letter to the Creators

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It has been 56 hours since I was almost killed.

My body felt sore and out of place: I couldn't walk without Newt having to keep me from falling, blood was constantly seeping from all of my wounds, I couldn't function properly overall.

It was as if my body had started shutting itself down. I found it difficult to eat and sleep, much less converse with someone for more than ten seconds. My mind was slowly shutting itself down, and I could feel it happening, but that didn't stop me from pulling on a smile to disguise it all.

"Hey Newt." I mumble looking up at the now entering figure.

Ever since the previous events in the Med-Jacks room, he was more protective of me now, making sure I was okay and checking on me 24/7.

He sits at the end of the bed, smiling slightly. "What've you been doin' lately?" He asks striking up a conversation in hopes of getting me to talk.

I shrug. "Nothing really, just thinking."

"Do you need anything?" He asks reaching over and grabbing my hand.

I smile lightly at the gesture. "I'm good, some paper would be nice though."

Over the last couple of days, I had a sudden attraction to draw or write, to do something that could busy me other than working around the Glade. And as if there was a solution, my mind told me to draw. Problem was that Minho and the other Runners wouldn't spare me paper, so I came up with my own way to solve that problem as well.

"Isabella you know-"

I cut him off. "I'm not going to draw, I just need to write something down."

"Like what?" He asks curiously, leaning forward towards me.

I sigh and run my sore hand through my knotted hair. "You said that you guys can suggest things for the Creators to send up right? You write it down and put it in the box. Well I'm going to make a suggestion."

"They usually never go through with it-" Newt starts.

"Yeah because you shanks asked for a TV. I'm asking for paper and pencils." I argue crossing my arms.

We stare at each other for awhile, his mind most likely battling whether he should or shouldn't.

"Please Newt." I beg desperately, I needed to busy myself more than anything during my recovery.

He squints at me. "I'll see what I can do." He says standing up. "And if Minho doesn't agree, I'll just have to bloody steal some then, won't I?"

I smile, "Thank you."

He nods and walks out the door, leaving me alone until he comes back.

I look out the window to see everyone working as usual, the events not taking a huge on the Glade. What had happened had frightened everyone for a great amount of time don't get me wrong, but Alby was sure of checking that it didn't affect any of our usual routines. He had called a Gathering and claimed that they were working to find out who had done the deed, and that until then, it was best if everyone put it behind them but still stayed alert as well.

I heaving Newt dashes into the room, disrupting my thoughts and holding the utensils I had requested. "You better be requesting some good thinks shank because I did not wrestle Minho for nothin'." He breathes out.

I laugh and take the paper and pencil in joy, scooting over as Newt sits next to me, waiting for me to start. "Get on with it then." He smiles.

I use a clipboard to put the paper on, starting to write eagerly.