Retrovaille | The Maze Runner

08.

A middle-aged man and a woman sat on the stairs leading up to their small house a few feet away, watching their children chase each other with smiles on their faces.

Elisabeth ran as fast as her short legs would take her, with her brother following her closely. Then she trips on few loose branches and falls into the grass. Before she could even roll onto her back, the boy starts tickling her.

"Oi! This isn't fair!" She laughed. "This is torture!"

"Well, back in the eighteenth century people used tickling as a torture method."

"Okay, nerd."

She rolled onto her back and gazed up at the sky, watching the clouds pass by like cotton balls floating on water. The boy laid next to her with his head resting on her left arm.

"I wish we could come out like this more," he whispered. "But you know. . ."

His eyes drifted towards the steel door in the backyard. Elisabeth could see the deserted street behind the bars.

"The Cra-"

Whatever she said next was just a static hum like someone had turned off the working switch of her ears.

"If you can go and touch the padlock in the door," she pointed at the shiny silver padlock securing the gates together. "I'll give you my cookie at dinner."

"No," he replied flatly.

"Okay then, watch me."

She got up and walked towards the gate, small step by small step, across the dewy grass that tickled the part of her ankles not covered by her socks.

Then she heard a sound that made her pause midstep. A haunting cry between a yell and a moan. It didn't even sound like a human.

She could see shadowed figures moving on the other side of the bars. But it was too bright for her to make out their faces.

Then she caught sight of a pair of dark sunken eyes that emanated an emptiness like she had never seen. Thick dark blood trailed down the figure's cheeks, which were covered with scratches and torn flesh.

Elisabeth woke with a start, shooting upright with her mouth open in a silent scream, heart thudding violently. She touched her face. Her fingers came away drenched in cold sweat.

For a few seconds she was still trapped in her dream. Slowly she familiarised her surroundings, trying to clear her mind off anything else and her beating heart calmed down. She was still in her room at the Homestead.

Eventually her mind went back to the awfully vivid dream. And she thought of the youthful boy playfully chasing her around the garden and the middle-aged couple watching them with amused smiles on their wrinkled faces. Her stomach turned.

Elisabeth shook her head, it was just a dream and it wouldn't do her any good to dwell on it.

It was just a dream.

Or was it really? A small voice said at the back of her head.

After a quick shower and breakfast, Elisabeth got ready for her third job trial.

"Tommy are you even listening to me?"

"Yeah, sorry. Couldn't sleep last night." Thomas mumbled, snapping out of his daze and focusing on Newt, who had been giving them instructions for the past two minutes.

"Can't blame ya there. Went through the buggin' ringer, you did." He attempted to smile which came out more as a grimace. "Probably think I'm a Slinthead Shank for gettin' you ready to work your butt off today after an episode the likes of that."