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The other people, also known as Gladers around here, were minding their own business in the Homestead. Though, it was almost impossible to ignore the stares burning my skin as I walked by.
Newt led me upstairs to a row of several bedrooms. Most of the doors were closed while others were slightly ajar, allowing me to see that some rooms were nicely decorated. Others, not so much. He pointed to the door at the end of the hallway to my right.
I turned the doorknob and opened the door, hearing a quiet squeak as I did so. A small bed sat in the corner of the room with a window hanging above it. The sheets looked like they'd been sitting there for decades, slowly collecting dust over time. A maroon pillow lay flat on the bed next to a beige blanket that I believe was white at one point.
The room wasn't in the worst condition, it just wasn't very welcoming. The floorboards were uneven and thin. The Gladers downstairs could probably hear every step I took. A crate sat at the foot of my bed, catching my attention right away.
I kneeled down and detached the clips that were holding it shut. The crate had nothing inside. I raised an eyebrow in confusion and disappointment.
Right when I was about to ask, Newt walked into the room with his hands in his pockets, observing my new living space.
"That box in front of you is meant to hold your clothes. But, uh- we don't have any that'll fit you right. I can go rummage through some old ones no one wears if you'd like." He offered, avoiding my eyes awkwardly. A part of me considered that he might be afraid of me. Did I look intimidating?
I gave him a small smile, "That'd be nice. Thanks, Newt."
He quickly nodded, rushing out the door. I chuckled and closed the crate. I got back up on my feet, looking for anything to do in here. There weren't any options that caught my eye so I walked out into the hallway, shutting the door behind me.
I glanced over the other doors, noticing small wooden boards with names carved into them. The one in front of me read Minho and the one to my left spelled out Clint.
There were others further down the hall, like Zart and Frypan. I audibly laughed at that name. Frypan must be a spontaneous guy. Maybe it was a nickname. If I can't remember my name, I might just come up with a nickname of my own.
Before I walked away, the door in front of me opened, revealing a tall Asian boy behind it. He adjusted his light grey shirt and quickly ran a hand through his dark hair before looking up and meeting my eyes. He jumped back, letting out a gasp.
"Who the shuck are you?!" He spat out, squinting his eyes at me.
"To be honest, I don't really know. I just got here from this weird box-" I began before being rudely interrupted.
