Thomas arrived in the glade, confused and without his memories just like anyone else, but it was less than a week before things began to change
I also added some of my own events for a little bit of ✨spice✨
This will probably be a mixture from the...
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Everyone packed their things and left on the day that Jorge had given him, three days since they had talked. Thomas put his pictures in his breast pocket, close to his heart.
They loaded up in "Bertha," AKA some sort of truck the Jorge had acquired along the way. Thomas, Newt, Frypan and even Sonya had joined them as well, they were all piled in the back. The truck had been filled with anxiety and fear, and they hadn't even left yet. Newt looked at Thomas and squeezed his thigh with a small smile and a nod.
"We can do this." Newt said. "We trust you." Thomas looked at his friends in the truck, who all nodded in agreement. They drove in silence after that, nobody wanting to speak about the horrors that they might see.
They stopped at nightfall, they had found a small patch of trees for cover and made camp there. Thomas watched the fire crackle, his arm propped on his good leg. His mind was buzzing with what they might see.
"Tommy," Newt nudged his leg. "Come walk with me." Newt helped him to his feet, and they set off down the path away from the others. Newt was fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, his other hand balled in a fist as he chewed on the string of his hoodie. "Sit." Newt said, gesturing to a log. Thomas set down the light that he'd been carrying, it's soft glow illuminated the clearing. Newt handed him a clean pair of scissors and sat between his legs. "Give me a trim?" Thomas furrowed his brow, taken aback that Newt thought they needed privacy for Thomas to cut his hair. "Not too short, base of my neck will do." Thomas stayed quiet, scissors in my hand.
"What's this about?" Thomas asked, making the first cut. Newt stayed quiet for a long time, his heart was pounding in his chest as he stared off into the dark forest.
"Have I ever told you how I hurt my leg?" Snip. This was a rhetorical question, Thomas knew that but he didn't want to answer. Snip. "Well, there was this time in the Glade. Alby called it the Dark Days." Newt cleared his throat. "Boys were killing each other, everyone was freaking out before we could establish order, but for me, the Dark Days meant something else." Newt paused for a long time.
Snip.
"My mind has always been a hard place to be alone with. When I first came the the Glade, they dropped a big group of us there including Alby and Minho and it was the same thing every day. I was a runner, back when there wasn't too many of us. Every day we ran the Maze looking for a way out, I ran every inch of that Maze myself and we never found a way out."
Snip.
"One day, I finally had enough. I saw no hope for us, for the future. I couldn't stand one more bloody day in that maze anymore. So, one day I left my bag behind and ran into the maze just like any other day. Except it was different this day for me. I ran into the maze and found the tallest wall I could with ivy thick enough for me to climb to the top."
Snip.
"You know the Maze doesn't really have a top? I climbed and climbed until something stopped me. It was engineered somehow to make it look like there was a top, but something stopped me when I thought I was about 3/4 of the way up. I hang on to the ivy, and I'm looking down to the ground. I was so high up." His voice cracked on the last word, this was hard for him to talk about.
