TST: Searching In The Scorch :Sequel to The Maze In Her Heart: ✔ (UNDER EDITING)

We're off to a sucky start *Chapter 11*

After Rat Man left, the room burst into complaints and questions. People were talking over each other and in loud voices, enough to give somebody a monster headache. I conjure in my mind that the only place to go for quiet was the bathroom. I decide to pick the bathroom I DIDN’T pass out in to go in, seeing as it was new to me and, most likely, unoccupied.

    It was unoccupied, but I kept the door open so passing Gladers could see that I was in there. But it wasn’t a invite to have a lovely conversation about our mission. It was an invite to shut the heck up and relax.

    I wonder what the Scorch looks like. Will there be trees? If so, what kind? Or will it’s name be it’s atmosphere, like Rat Man said, dried, cracked and scorched? Will there be water? Will there be sand? What about the sun, and the temperature. From my fading memory I can only conjure the image of a ceramic splattered sun, large, round, and orange against the candy pink sky.

    I can’t remember what snow, or rain was like but my vague memory only allows me to know what it is, but not the experience of feeling it fall to my tongue, the chill as if drips off my shoulders. Standing in a wet world, on a driveway, shaded by a large oak tree and allowing rain to spill on my tongue. Clothed in all puffy clothing, diving into a white pool of snow, splashing it to my sister then making a snowman.

    Fake memories, I think bitterly, turning to the mirror. Staring at my own reflection, I can almost feel the hate towards WICKED physically. They’re the ones who gave us fake memories. But I know the truth. The sun flares hit when we were only babes. I don’t know about the boys, some of them seem older, but Newt, Thomas, and Minho, along with others like Winston and Frypan, seem around the same age as me. I think about Chuck. He must have not even been born. Was he born into a flare- infested world as a babe, then grow up, only knowing people in white coats who promised it will all be okay?

    Look at him now. He’s not okay. We’re not okay. Our lives are just pawns. I bet people in WICKED are betting who makes it through these two weeks. Well, there’s nothing to do but wait. And survive.

    “How long does it take to take a dump?” I hear a teasing voice and see Minnie in the doorway. She’s changed her clothing, by the looks of it.

    “Where did you get the clothing?” I say, ignoring her sarcastic question. She looks down, as if noticing just then she was wearing new clothes. “Oh.” she says simply. “That.

    “I got them with the food. There were piles of clothes with our names on them. You must have not seen them.” She smirks.

    “Sorry, I was too busy trying to return energy to my broken body.” I snap back.

    “Oooh, feisty!” she says, laughing a little. I push past her. “Whoa whoa whoa, wait a minute.” Minnie says, grabbing my arm. I unbutton my overshirt and let her pull it off, then continue walking. “Stop!” she says and I do so, but I don’t turn.

    “Look at yourself. You’re a mess. Go take a shower, and I’ll go get your clothes.”

    “Minnie, we’re in a three room prison full of boys, I’m not going to take a shower.”

    “If they come near you I’ll kick their balls off. Now go.”

    I find myself giggling. “Okay, fine.”

    I then walk back to the bathroom and take a shower. The water was cool, just like rain, but I want to experience it. Rain. What a wonderful thing it must be. In the New World, there must be rain. But not in the Scorch.

    After I take a shower, I carefully dress into my fitted outfit. It’s much like Minnie’s, only my t-shirt is a light purple. My jeans areblue, and white socks, but that’s it.