c h a p t e r . o n e

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I woke suddenly in the darkness, gasping for air. My lack of vision immediately sent me into a state of panic. I was moving, and a wave of nausea washed over me as I felt myself being thrown around in the little space I was in. I groped around in the darkness for something, anything, to signal where I was. I heard a clang, and everything around me shuddered as the horrible, mysterious contraption I was stuck in came to a stop.

Suddenly blinding light seared through a slit above my head. As quickly as it had appeared, it seemed to plummet away from me and I felt a far off clang resonate in my head as it smacked the floor, sending my eyes rolling into the back of it. The light disappeared.

* * *

I came to sitting up in what looked like a hastily built bed. I looked around, taking in my surroundings. The building I was in seemed nothing more than a recklessly made wooden hut. But as I stared in front of me, it wasn't the hut that caught my interest and confusion.

Everyone, at least in this room, were teenage boys.

There were four of them. They all looked to be of similar age - somewhere between seventeen and nineteen. One certainly had the presence of being in charge, and I suspected that maybe one of them was the closest thing to a doctor.

The leader spoke first. "Look, shanks, she's awake." This boy was tall and skinny with blond hair, and had rolled the sleeves on his worn jumper, exposing thin yet muscled arms. All their clothes were grimy looking, which caused me to look down at my own. Similar to the others (but of varying colours) I was wearing a simple, dark - and also grimy - green t-shirt, dark trousers, and trainers. I didn't remember dressing myself into this, but then again-

I couldn't remember anything.

"I-I don't know my name. Why don't I know my name?" I said, barely above a whisper.

"Hey, the Greenie talks funny like you, shank," one of the other boys laughed to the leader. He spoke in a significantly different accent to him - and me. This boy was also significantly heavier-built and muscular, although not as tall. His veiny arms were crossed, and when he finished laughing, his face returned to somewhat of a resting scowl.

"Slim it, Gally," the leader told the boy. He turned back to me. "It happened to us all. Your name'll come back to you soon. It's the only thing those slintheads let us keep."

Who? What?

"What does the note mean, do you know?" he questioned.

"What? What note?"

"No, course ya don't. Sorry," he muttered, pulling something from his pocket. He handed me a scrap of paper. "This was found in your hand when you arrived."

An ominous message was scrawled onto the paper.

She's the last one. Ever.

"What does that mean? What is this place?" I asked hopelessly.

"That's a long story," the last boy - dark haired and athletic looking - said. "But I'll do my best." He cleared his throat. "I'm Thomas, by the way," he introduced finally.

"Wait for the bloody Tour, Tommy," the leader interrupted. "You'll give her a buggin' heart attack, tellin' it all at once."

"I had to wait for the bloody Tour, lot of good it did me," Thomas argued. "I'd be wanting to know." The boy named Gally rolled his eyes. Thomas ignored him, and turned back to me.

"Right. Okay. So, you're in the Glade."

"Glade?" I asked skeptically.

"Sure. This is the Glade. Where we're living. We've all been sent up here in the box. Every Glader does. We can't remember what came before the box, but we were all in it, and every month a new Glader comes out of it."

"Right, but that's a load of klunk now," the one who appeared to be a doctor jumped in.

"Yeah, three new Greenies in only a fortnight. Something's wrong," the leader said gravely.

"Greenies?" I repeated.

"Fortnight?" Gally repeated. "Is this some new term I ain't heard of, or do you just speak really funny, shank?" Gally's comment was ignored.

"Greenie means the new guy," Thomas explained. "I showed up here maybe two weeks ago. Last week was the first girl. Teresa. And today - you."

"I'm just one of two girls?" I questioned.

"Yeah, and you're the last one, ever," Gally said, sounding angry, as though it was my own fault.

"Alright, that's it," the leader interjected. "You wait for the Tour now. You'll get it tomorrow."

"But-" I started to protest.

"Slim it, shank," Gally ordered aggressively. I frown confusedly. Shank, Slinthead, Klunk, Shuck-face - what did any of that even mean?

"So am I stuck here?" I asked. "In this Glade?"

"For now. We all are."

"We're all stuck here?" I repeated, horrified.

"Yeah, but we'll be out soon. We're close, ain't no two ways about it," the leader said confidently. "We'll tell ya more on the Tour. Good that?"

"Uh, good that," I responded uncertainly.

"Name's Newt, by the way, Greenie."

"Okay, Newt. So-" I stopped. One word echoed around my head, as clear as anything. "Anna," I whispered.

"Sorry?" Newt asked, not hearing me.

"My name," I said quietly. "I remember my name."

"Do ya?"

"It's... Anna," I repeated, more confidently this time.

"Well, welcome to the Glade, Anna."

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