She's My Glue// Newt

The banishing

Tegan's POV

I'm up the lookout tower now. I'm off duty. Trying out the sloppers was my last job to try out. I'm a bit calmer now, up at the lookout tower, my feet dangling over the edge as I'm sat on the strong oak wood. While I'm up here I have time to think. So let my brain whir on and on. My Aspergers means I notice every, single, little, thing. So my brain has been bombarded these last two days and today with all these new senses and sights, smells and sounds. And taste. Like Fypan's cooking. I see the sky, a baby blue colour filled to the brim with the whitest, fluffiest clouds you've ever seen. They say every cloud has a silver lining, I haven't noticed a true one, sometimes light makes it able where you can see one because of the way it shines, but hey, it fades away soon enough. There's no birds in the sky. No red-breasted, nurturing robins, no gawking pigeons that seem to be the stupidest of all the bird kingdom. Bluetits and Yellowtits don't paint the sky with their primary colours. It's like god, (if there is one), has put away his paintbrush. I look over to the overgrown, mystery-filled forest. The forest is a luscious remedy of all sorts of shades of greens, each tree different in different ways. Some leaves are intricate, Mother Nature's finest creation which has flourished in the undergrowth of trees. The height of these trees are different two, some are canopy level, mediocre in size but still are rich and powerful and divine. Others are tall gentle giants, their leaves - or vines - dancing in sync with the soaring, singing wind. There are a range of tree types. Wondrous and willful willow trees who will protect to the end whoever protects and looks after it; powerful, wise And ancient oaks, there vast trunks the bark version and tube version of the fountain if knowledge. They are but to name a few. Did you know that if you chop down any sort of tree and you look at the trunk you will see it has natural circles etched it, made by the tree, (this is it's layers, trees are like onions - they have many skins and layers and depth that are either in time made, or striped away); and if you count these circles - outside to inside people normally do it, though, what do I know about normal? - then that tells you how old the tremendous tree is. Say if you counted fifty circles, that tree is fifty years old. Now the heart of the forest - which is in one section only, not the one by me - is dead. The heart is dead. That's what we call around here the deadheads. That's where us Gladers actually bury our dead.

"Tegan!" A familiar voice yells.

"What is it Gally?" I yell.

"It's time for the banishing shank!" His deep voice yells back.

"Names not shank shuck-face!"

"Oi!" He says after I've finished climbing down the ladder, but he doesn't say anymore after a look from Winston.

"You two not been getting on much have you?" He says linking my arm, walking me to the maze doors.

"No. He's so different now isn't he?"

Both me and Winston remember all our memories, so we know.

"Yeah... Just proves what this place can do to a person." Win says as we grind to a halt at the doors.

We stand to the side and Alby, who was waiting for stragglers, tells Minho to bring Ben.

"Bring him Minho." Alby says quietly.

Ben is and now I suppose was a good mate of Minho's, they run the maze together as a pair. Runners do it in pairs mostly. Minho's face is a pained expression, knowing what he is sentencing his mate to. But he knows - as do I, I think - that it has to be done. Ben's hands are tied behind his head, blue and purple veins explode out of his skin. His face damp with sweat and fury. His eyes steely grey. Minho sets him down on his knees facing the open doors as a greiver roar attacks our quiet Glade and sends a guff of wind pelting towards us all. Minho just looks away from the maze. I see a watery glint in his eyes. I see my brother Thomas put his hand on his shoulder, Minho nods and cuts the ties that had tied Ben's sweat-drenched hands together.

"Please... Minho, not out there... I'm fine! I'll get better!" Ben pleads at Minho desperately, "PLEASE?!" He turns around and his eyes dart at us.

"Poles up!" Alby shouts.

These poles are wooden and at the end they have a shorter horizontal piece of wood. They look like a dodgy T. Anyway, they gently push - Alby, Newt, Frypan, Gally, Clint, Max and one other I don't know - towards the maze. A bang erupts and shakes the ground as the maze doors start to close.

"No! No no no. NO! PLEASE?! NOOOOOOOOO!" Ben screams repeatedly as he's pushed into the space between the walls.

In order to not get squished like a pancake Ben runs fully into the maze and screams again and again.

Silence.

The doors are closed.

I absolutely adore description but I always seem to forget it. It's hard to use a lot of similes for this because the characters don't remember any things that they say a certain thing is like or something as.

Hope you continue to read this. I love you guys!