Thank you so much, SpecialMonsterz for making me this cover! You don't know how much I appreciate your support and this amazing art work!
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I was expecting myself to be wrapped up in my sleeping bag when I first woke up. In fact, I was mostly expecting to be in my room. But as my brain began to slowly function and process why everything was much darker, I realized that I was no longer in my room. I had no idea where I was.
I was on my feet and ready to fight whoever brought me here until a soft voice came from the left of me, "Ame, relax. Newt said you didn't sleep that well last night, so he carried you here and let you sleep. It would've been nice if he did the same for me. The sleeping not the...carrying thing...."
My head snapped to the left spotting Thomas curled up against the wall. My eyebrows furrowed as I thought back to why Newt brought Thomas and I to this secluded part of Glade. My eyes snapped around the concealed area, spotting the bars on the only window available in the room. Realization hit me quickly as I muttered under my breath, "The Slammer."
"Yup." Thomas said with a bored look, keeping his eyes trained on the wall in front of him.
"Great." I muttered, throwing my back against the concrete wall, and sliding down until I was sitting. I threw my arms onto my knees, already annoyed with the silence. My eyes stayed glued to my hands before I noticed what I was wearing.
"What...am I wearing?" I asked out loud looking down at the white blouse draped over my body and clothing.
"I guess Newt put that on you." Thomas shrugged.
I blinked a few times before turning my head over my shoulder and staring at Thomas with a blank look, "You're tellin' me...there is a shirtless Newt wonderin' around Glade...while I'm being contained by a piece of concrete and bars?"
Thomas turned to me, the corner of his lips peaking up into an amused smile. "So...you and Newt," Thomas began, looking at me with a taunting smirk, "What's goin' on there?"
I rolled my eyes with a giddy smile, looking away from Thomas for a second before answering truthfully, "To be honest, I don't have a clue. But...."
"What?" Thomas' eyes widened, as the smile fell from his face.
My lips rolled inside my mouth, while my eyes glistened with secrecy. I felt like all my insides were floating on clouds as memories of the kiss Newt and I shared replayed in my mind, making a giddy smile pull up onto my face.
"Ame...what did you guys do?" Thomas looked at me with a serious look.
I laughed awkwardly at his question before answering with a blush crawling up onto my face, "After we returned from the Maze, Newt came and visited while I was being fixed up by the MedJacks. I'm not gonna go into detail 'cause I'm already feelin' pretty awkward explaining this, so I'm just gonna skip to the main point. Newt and I kissed."
Thomas stared blankly at me for a couple minutes, his eyes wandering around my face as if to see if I was telling the truth. His mouth hung open, his words unable to form. I wasn't sure if he was shocked or in disbelief.
"That's it?" He reassured, looking at me with his head tilted to the side in question.
I glanced to the side of the room before back at him, nodding my head quizzically, "Yeah.... That's it...?"
Thomas visibly breathed out a sigh of relief before saying with a small smile, "Okay, good."
My brows furrowed as I tried to think of all the reasons as to why Thomas would be so relieved. A part of me wanted to know and the other part didn't want to be introduced to the mind of a teenage boy. But as curious as I was, I asked simply, "Why?"
"Well...I just wanted to make sure that...well...y'know...Newt and you didn't-" Thomas began looking at me awkwardly, as if he were trying to explain the whole concept without actually saying it.
"T," I cut him off, speaking to him while a blush crept up my neck, "don't do it. Don't go there."
Thomas looked down at the ground sheepishly, rubbing his wrists to distract himself from the awkward situation that he brought up. It was silent for a little bit, leaving only Thomas' words to hang in the air and in our thoughts like a strange odour. By that time, the slight pink tint on the cheeks of my face turned a shade of dark crimson. Everything felt awkward now.
"So...then...what are you? You and Newt?" Thomas asked, wrinkling his nose in distaste.
"Um...I really don't know. I don't exactly know what to call a relationship - if that's what Newt and I are - in Glade. I mean...there's more important things than relationships," I spoke, muttering the last part of my speech, "For example, trying to find our way out of here."
I stared at a spot on the floor with a blank look on my face, feeling Thomas' stares burn into the side of my head. I wanted to avoid the topic of Newt and I, because it made Thomas look really uncomfortable and a bit protective. The way he acted reminded me of a child getting upset that his friend took his toy. It was strange and a bit unsettling.
The silence that surrounded us, stunk of awkward. The awkward glances, the uncomfortable shifting, the scratching of the head, and the open mouths to say something though nothing left our lips. I felt like I was racking through my brain to find information about Thomas to create a conversation, but the only information I had about him lead to the mysteries of the Maze and the questions of the visions. I knew we were going to have to talk about the visions and the voices one way or another. I'm just not sure what exactly we would talk about. I went over the voices and dreams a billion times and thought of all the reasons as to why I hear and see these events. I don't know what else Thomas could come up with.
But as the word "vision" entered my brain, my mind automatically went to the dream I had the night before.
"I had another dream last night." I finally said to Thomas; pictures of the dream flashing past my mind.
Thomas' head snapped up, his eyes staring into my head as if to see the dream himself. He gulped before asking, "W-what was it about? What did you see?"
My eyes flashed down, collecting my thoughts before spilling to Thomas what I had seen, "It's really hard to explain. But...I think it was me and this girl talking. I was disagreeing with what she was saying. I remember saying something like...'twenty were sent up and sixteen are dead'. Then I remember saying something about...someone killing off the rest of society. Much of that is just a shuc-freakin' blur."
Thomas furrowed his brows staring out the window, gnawing on his bottom lip as he tried and process the information I was feeding him. "Anything else?" He asked, his voice barely audible.
"Yeah, sorry," I said, clenching my jaw nervously, "There was an older woman. She kept calling me Amy for some reason. She explained to me that whatever they were doing, it was for the greater good."
Thomas nodded, his teeth claiming his own lip. His eyes flickered back and forth like he was reading an email off a computer. He was completely focused on my words, analyzing each sentence. "Is that all?" He asked, not even looking at me.
"Yeah, one more thing," I said picking at my fingers as I rolled the three words around my mind, "'Wicked is good'."
Thomas' head snapped back up to me his eyes widening into the size of two coins. His mouth hung open, his jaw bobbing in the same rhythm as his Adam's apple. The colour drained from his face, the words hanging in the air.
"Wicked? Like on the signs out in the Maze? And on the thing we found in the griever?" Thomas asked, his face contorted in confusion and excitement.
"And on the supplies." I nodded, my lips pursed as I stared at a random spot on the floor.
Thomas sat up a little straighter looking around the room to see if anybody was eavesdropping or close by. He scooted closer to me before whispering, "Am I the only one that feels like 'WICKED' has more of a meaning other than evil?"
My eyes flickered up to Thomas before looking out the window toward the North Doors. The Doors stood silent and tall as the sun beamed down on the stone. The Doors did nothing except open and close, but they seemed to have an effect that made me fear them more than be thankful for them. The Doors were a life and death situation; they either killed you or saved you. Even though most nights, the Doors saved you, that hunk of concrete made fear its definition.
"Tomorrow we'll be out in the Maze. That'll be our chance to see those metal signs. Maybe that'll give a clue as to what the shuck WICKED is." I said through gritted teeth, hating the feeling of fear I was currently being plagued with.
"Since when did you start using Glader slang?" Thomas looked up at me with furrowed brows as amusement flash in his eyes.
"What?" I looked at him, confusion written across my face.
"You just said 'shuck'." Thomas said with a quirked smile.
I thought back to what I said before, my brows knitting together. Once I realized I let the word slip, a sense of panic tugged at my heart. I was already starting to use Glader slang without acknowledging it. How long will it take until that becomes a daily routine? Until "Glader slang" becomes my language?
I shook my head before speaking, trying my best to avoid Thomas' concerned look, "Looks like I am spending too much time with Minho." I gave a halfhearted smile.
Thomas opened his mouth to say something but before a sound could escape his throat, a youthful voice rung from the barred window, "I better gain some major shucking friendship-brownie points for this; I just took a whole loaf of bread and two cups of water from Frypan's kitchen for you two rule breakers."
A smile instantly pulled up onto my face as I cocked my head over my shoulder and met the playful eyes of my first friend. "Chuckles, that hair of yours gives you all the brownie points you'll need." I smirked widely, standing up and making my way over to the window.
"I know." Chuck ran a hand over his curly locks while looking off into the distance with a vain look on his face.
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"Everything's going back to normal, y'know. The Runners are out in the Maze, everyone's working, doing their normal routine. Maybe we'll survive after all. Still no sign of Gally though. Newt told the Runners that if they find him or his body, to come back lickety-split. Oh! And Alby's up and about! He seems t'be fine. Newt's pretty shucking happy about that. He doesn't have t'play boss anymore." Chuck went on, leaning against the window while Thomas and I gnawed on a piece of bread.
I looked up at the young boy at the mention of Alby's name. She's good. Probably the only one we can trust. Alby's voice rung through my head as flashes of Alby trying to choke himself came into view. I gave a side glance to Thomas for a quick second before shoving more bread down my throat.
I glanced up at Chuck, watching as he numbly played with an object in his hands; a distant expression stained on his face. I was just about to ask what was wrong but before I could get a word out, he already began talking, "It's weird to feel sad. Or homesick. Especially when you have no idea what it is you wish to go back to. All I know is...I just don't wanna be here anymore. I just wanna be back with my family. Whatever's there. Whatever I was taken from. I wanna remember."
My heart hammered against my ribs as I listened to the young boy. I could feel my face fall as I watched his eyes glaze over with tears.
"I know what you mean." Thomas muttered as I placed my lunch onto the floor.
Chuck wiped his nose with the side of his thumb, keeping his left hand curled around the small object he was playing with earlier. "I used to cry myself to sleep. Every night." Chuck admitted, his voice cracking slightly.
"Yeah?" Thomas spoke, his voice barely audible as he tried to process the newly found information on the young boy.
"Like a wailin' lil' baby. Almost until the day you got here, Ame. Then I just got used to it, I suppose. Between these four walls became home, even though we spend every day hoping to find our way out." Chuck sighed, resting his head against one of the bars on the window.
"I've cried a few times since showing up. But that last time was after almost getting eaten alive. I'm probably just a shallow...shuck-face." Thomas smiled slightly at the kid, hanging onto the bar beside the kid's head.
"You cried? Out in the Maze?" Chuck turned and looked at Thomas, obviously holding back tears.
"Like a wailin' lil' baby." Thomas smiled softly at Chuck, quoting him.
A smile had somehow pulled up onto my face as I listened to Thomas comfort Chuck. Thomas spoke to him like a human. Not just as a child who was taken from his home but as a person who was just lost.
"It kinda makes ya feel better, huh? Weird how it works." Chuck gave a pathetic laugh.
I felt sympathy mask my face as the words left Chuck's mouth. A moment of silence went by as Thomas took a step back from the bars giving me a chance to snake my thin hand through the bars. Going onto my toes, I stretched my arm through the window, picking up Chuck's small, chubby hand.
At my gesture, Chuck turned his head and looked up at me with large doe eyes, tears threatening to spill, "Do you think I have parents, Ame? Actual real parents?"
My lips parted as my eyes gazed at the youthful boy's face. The heart break in his voice made the hope in his eyes dim as his despair grew. Everything about him seemed as depressed as he sounded. His eyes sunk, his doe orbs staring holes into my soul. His skin seemed almost grey as the tears blinked in his eyes. His curly hair even drooped slightly.
"Of course you do, Chuckles. That's how we're all here." I smiled softly at Chuck, barely even thinking about what I was saying.
"Most of the Gladers who've gone through the Changing...they remember terrible things that none of them will even talk about. It makes me doubt I have anything good to go back home to. So, I mean, you think it's really possible I have a mom and a dad out in the world somewhere, missing me. Do you think they cry at night? Over me?"
My heart ached at the despair in the boy's voice. I felt my eyes get teary at the thought of the boy crying himself to sleep each night. I felt disgust rise up in my stomach just thinking about the Creators placing Chuck in the Glade. It seemed wrong to put such a young, lively smile in such a dark and dangerous place. It is wrong.
"Chuck, look at me," I spoke, trying to contain my cracking voice, "With every fibre in my body, I believe you have parents out there. And I bet that you are constantly on their mind. Every second of every day, I bet your mom and dad ask themselves, 'is my son okay?'. Each day you're alive, is another day closer to reassuring your parents that you're okay. Don't give up, Chuck."
Chuck kept his eyes locked on mine, tears threatening to spill. He sniffed before looking back down to the ground. In that moment, all I wanted to do was hug the kid until all the sadness in his heart disappeared.
"We're gonna solve this thing, Chuck. We're gonna get out of here. Ame and I are Runners now. I promise my life I'll get you back home." Thomas said, resting his forehead against the bars to look down at Chuck. His voice was filled with pure sincerity, as his features were masked with determination.
"We'll get you back to your parents, Chuck." My voice was quietly but I could feel the promise lace around my words. I could feel the promise pierce my heart like the needles of a permanent tattoo.
"I hope you're right." Chuck said, his voice wavering as he pushed himself off the wall. He dropped my hand, sending both Thomas and I a quick, small smile before walking away.
"I swear, Chuck."
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FINALLY DONE!!!!!
Now...before you all decide to spear me, let me explain.
Lately, I have been incredible busy. Homework, dance, family, friends, and other personal stuff. Plus, I have no motivation to continue. I've gotten bored with the story and I can't seem to find any inspiration.
BUT like before, I'm NOT giving up on the story. Though my updates will be SLOW.
I hope you all understand. Thank you all so much for continuing to support and read my story! You have no idea how much I appreciate your comments and votes! <3
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Love, xoAwkwardDiamond <33