White room.
Water.
Pair of blue eyes.
I was back here again in this disoriented world. For once, I wasn't as afraid of it. I was able to keep a clear mind. I was able to comprehend objects and shadows far more lucid than before.
"You stay alive, sweetheart, and you come find me. Got it?"
I was in a room with another person. A white room that was padded down with cushions on all four walls, ceiling, and floor. However, they weren't plush. They were rock solid, digging into my backbone. It seemed similar to a chamber you would discover in an asylum, where they would keep the mentally corrupted patients after running the desired tests. In this case, I was the subject.
It felt so much like a dream, I was so unsure if this was a reality.
"W-What about Tho-" Her words were cut off by the sound of the iron chamber door being belabored, threatening to break open.
"The plan is to send him in after you, I know that. They won't kill you off you are far too valuable. You-"
I watched his lips as the sound suddenly muted out. My eyes focused on his cracked chapped lips, embellished with translucent scruff on his upper lip and chin. I could smell the cheap brand of whiskey liquor heat my face.
"Touch has a memory, Prim...trust it."
_
The walls grinding open woke me up. It did the same for Thomas who sprung up a few hammocks down. We were quick to spot each other, finding it odd how conventionally we woke up at the exact time. Everyone was used to the sound of the walls moving, so most just slept through it.
When I checked the doors there were three figures lingering near them. Newt, to me who was easy to spot, and Minho with his formal attire. What I found odd was that Alby was with them wearing a Runners harness. I blinked just as the two ran into the Maze, Newt wandering as he stared down at them.
Why was Alby going into the Maze? It was a straightforward question that had a few sparse answers. Maybe they were running low on Runners, but I knew for a fact there was nearly ten under the occupation. So it wouldn't make any sense. What were they doing? I was too groggy to figure it out.
My heard was throbbing from the stitches, even stretching farther across the crown of my head. It was like my brain was pulsing every few seconds, pressuring against my skull like it was too big for my head. I sighed, leaning back down. I pulled over the blanket over my head, one I don't remember falling asleep with. I tried to fall back asleep. Tried.
"Prim?" Thomas was like a child at times. Once awake there was no putting him back to bed. Once curious he'll go against what you say and do it anyway. Once he wants something, or in this case wants to know something, he won't go away. I sighed, pulling back down the blanket to reveal that he standing over me. "Why's Alby going into the Maze?"
I slowly sat up, using my elbows to pull me up straight. I shook my head because it wasn't like I knew myself. Thomas was just one who he had to ask his questions to someone. He sighed, looking back to the doors that Newt was retreating from. He was on his way back over here.
"What do you think they did to you." Thomas pulled me back to focus on him. His eyes were on my neck, crouching down on a lower level than I was so he could get a clearer glance at it. "They took your voice from you."
I nodded, wondering why a light bulb as blinking in the back of his eyes.
"Everything alright?" Newt arrived, puzzled to why we were up. He carefully sauntered over, making sure he didn't make much noise.
"So that means you could talk before," Thomas concluded, facing towards Newt for confirmation. I and he shared a look of confusion. I would kind of think it would be obvious...but I guess Thomas would assume I was just mute my entire life.
"What are you getting on?" Newt blinked a few times, resting his crossed arms over his chest.
"Well, I'm saying there has to be a reason, right? They wouldn't have gone through all that trouble without a reason." That light bulb that was an easy fix just magically burned brighter. "Maybe they didn't want you to tell us something."
Silence.
"Prim, you have dreams, right?" Thomas asked. I was flustered at so many questions and ideas all I could manage was a shaking nod. "Well, I have them too."
I stared at him deeply, incredulously. He wet his lips, his nervous tick, adjusting on the balls of his feet.
"And sometimes-...sometimes they can be really scary, right?" Pressure began to build behind my eyes at the memories of them all came flooding back. "And you can't talk about them because they took your voice from you."
Newt came to my side, sinking down the hammock beside me. Instantly I found his hand, squeezing it tightly. He did the same.
"Love..." He whispered, causing me to look up at him. "That night. You didn't have a bug, did you." Timidly, I shook my head.
"Night? What night?" Newt looked at me for permission, which I solemnly nodded for him to continue.
"She had a nightmare that was pretty bad. Worst one she had ever had. Her body couldn't handle it." Thomas's eyes faltered back over to me.
"Was it about what they did to you?" He murmured. Miserably I shook my head, reaching across Newt's lap to fetch my journal from his hip. I peeled it open, flipping to a blank page. My hands were trembling when I wrote,
"What they did to my baby sister." Newt's eyes widened.
"You remember your sister?" He asked. I nodded my head, my eyes fluttering to Thomas.
"What did they do to her?" His voice cracked. For a moment I don't even think he wanted to know because of my harrowed expression.
"They took her from me," I wrote. "...killed her."
"W-What..." At first, he didn't seem to believe me. The apprehension in his eyes liquefied over the rims. Thomas was going to cry.
"They shot her." I wrenched out. "She was just a baby..."
Newt suddenly looked entirely horrified, his eyes fading to the floor. Thomas looked like he was consummately distraught, searching between my eyes. Both were eerily silent. And I was blank. A hollowing breeze whipped through the canopy, injecting goosebumps into their skins. I felt nothing, however.
"Who did," Thomas asked weakly. I didn't know. There was so many of them I couldn't remember all. However, I remembered the man.
"The rat man."
"A-And what did he do to you?"
I couldn't take it anymore. I threw the journal down, bashing it against Thomas's chest. Who was he to ask all these questions? He was the newcomer, he shouldn't be asking these types of unnecessary things. The pressure I chose to build was released, crying into Newt's shoulder as I clung to him like he was my lifeline.
"That's enough." Newt shot at Thomas while securing his arms around my shoulders.
A silence sunk between my strangled wisps of air. A silence that none of us knew how to corrupt. A silence that lasted till the sun reached the top of the walls. A silence that left us as we left each other. A silence that stayed as even though Newt never left my side. It was the silence that was too loud for a voiceless person like me.
The silence that had left us took our conversation with it. Newt nor Thomas never told another soul.
_
Later in the day, I found myself sitting on a fallen over a trunk of an aged tree, along with Thomas and Chuck while Newt and Zart worked a few feet away from us. While Chuck and I occupied ourselves with our trademark hobbies, Thomas was back in the trance of bombarding Newt with questions. It probably didn't help the irritability he felt since the broiling sun berated down on his back. I offered Newt to help, but he had ordered I stay. He didn't give a reason why.
"But why would Alby go into the Maze? I mean he's not a r- he's not a runner."
"Things are different now." Panted Newt, standing up straight to give himself a break. His hair was congested with sweat that trailed down his jaw. He had been working at chopping up this stump for nearly an hour with only Zart's help. "Alby went to retrace Ben's footsteps before sundown - look are you gonna help?"
"So he's gonna go back to where Ben was just stung-"
"Alby knows what he's doing, alright?" A shiver shot up my spine as Newt pointed his machete towards Thomas, not in a threatening manner of course. More along the lines of 'I am addressing to you' and 'you're getting on my nerves'. Even Newt seemed to have limits. "He knows better than any of us."
Thomas hung his head, sinking the tip of his own machete into the trunk of the tree dejectedly.
"What does that mean?"
Newt sniffed, scratching behind his ear with the hand that wielded his tool. He turned to face us, taking a few steps forward.
"Well, it's like you've heard, yeah? Every month, The Box sends up a new arrival. But someone had to be first, right? Someone had to have spent a whole month in the Glade, alone. And that was Alby." My jaw fell slack.
Imagine how that must have felt. All alone, trapped inside four colossal walls. No one to greet you and offer you a helping hand once you arrived. Had to climb out of The Box only to discover you were all alone. If you didn't know how dangerous it was in the Maze you might have made a terrible mistake. Alby had to learn it all the hard way.
"I mean, it can't have been easy." Newt trailed, continuing to hack at the roots. "But when those other boys started comin' up, one after the other...he saw the truth. And he learned that the most important thing is that we all have each other." Newt's eyes burned when he stood to stare Thomas dead in the eye. Determination. Newt carried such a great sense of it upon his back. "Because we're all in this together."
Thomas was silenced after that. He glanced over at me, which I gave him a look to go help them. He seemed to have already that in mind. He stood, using his knife to push him forward. I smiled, watching as Thomas nodded to Newt, taking over his spot to help cut out the roots.
"Yeah," Newt smiled. "There you go, Greenie."
Our conversation really did seem to just magically dissipate. To a level, I was happy for that, but on another, I wasn't. Newt seemed on edge the entire day after I spoken out about it. I didn't catch his eyes with my own as much as I usually do. He just wasn't his cheeky self when I first met him.
"Hey, Prim! Chuck!" Our heads shot up as we saw Winston run up. Just like everyone he was drenched in sweat with fresh dirt turned up onto his clothes. "Can ya' lend a hand since your not busy? Builders need more wood for the structure their building. No one has the time to bring it over to them."
I didn't hesitate to agree, and neither did Chuck. We stuffed our belongings in our pockets, hopping off the trunk. Newt didn't comment but watched as I followed after Winston.
"Don't overwork yourself." He said as I passed him, however, did not look at me. I gritted my teeth together, turning back on my heel and stomping straight up to his face. I jabbed my finger into his chest, (which didn't do much to his posture), before pointing sharply to his face. He knew what I meant by this. I wasn't the one who usually overworked themselves. He restrained a smile, running the tip of his tongue inside his cheek. "Alright, alright."He defended.
Attempting to hold back my own smile to keep a serious persona, I followed after Winston.
"How did you even get that?" I heard Zart ask. He probably had no idea what I was gesturing about. A lot of the boys here had a hard time deciphering what I was meaning to say without paper.
"You learn to understand her."
Letter Twenty
If we die
I hope we all become
A part of the sky
So every time it rains
We are everywhere
We couldn't be when we were alive.
-Prim