Changing the glade

Eighteen

My body is detached. Each living cell in its own little world.

Something's buzzing, getting louder like a vacuum. I feel myself (all of me) shooting towards the source. I reform, tiny pieces of dust slowly coming together to make whatever I am.

My lids still feel heavy, but curiosity takes over my fatigue. I blink them open.

All I can see is blackness, they swelling hole of mystery clouds my brain, thoughts swallowed by the large bulk of the dark.

I Know I’m not dreaming, i can feel walls around me, like I’m in a room. Like a box.

I stumble to my feet, tripping and crawling to my right, sure enough cold metal meets my fingertips. I lap the box, my fingers trailing behind me, checking for a bump and door handle, anything.

 No exit.

I groan, am I dead? What has happened? Where Newt, Minho and most of all where is 'Thomas'? My feet slip from under me once again, and I slide my back down the wall cold metal sharp against my skin. All I can hear is my own breathing and the occasional sigh that creeps over my lips. My eyes well with tears, spilling over and tumbling down my cheeks. I don't want to remember. 

I close my eyes, tears finding their way through cracks in my eyelids, looking into the hazy darkness of the unknown, colourful bubbles and smudges dance in my vision as light floods in. something’s opening. 

{sorry its short, really don't know what to write anymore! i am abit lost :) hope you enjoy it :)}