The First Girl

---seven---

You wake up while the sun is barely in the sky. His arms still holding your back to his chest, Minho is out like a light in your bed. You lay there, waiting for him to wake up.

"Minho," you whisper to him gently.

He moans as his eyes flutter open.

"Five more minutes?" he pleas.

"Sorry, you'll be late,"

At your remark he practically jumps up onto the wooden flooring. He scrambles to grab his shirt and get out of your room. With one leg out of the window, he slides it back over his abs.

"See ya," he says smiling.

"Bye," you say, walking to the window to see him off. "Don't get caught you slinthead!

He drops the last few feet to the ground and takes off towards the kitchens.

☮♢☮ TIMESKIP ☮♢☮

"Which knife do you want?" says Winston as he gestures to the rack of silver blades.

"Um, I think I'll just watch for a while. You know, to get a sense of how it all works,"

"Sounds good to me," he says as he jogged to the fence containing the pigs.

Okay, you're up for eating food and looking at live animals, but NOT anything that take place between the two. You doubt today will be a fun experience.

Winston and few other boys herd a few of the largest ones into separate, smaller pens.

Once Winston has his prey cornered, he raises his machete in the air above the pig's neck.

As he brings it down you covered my eyes, but you can still hear the squeals from his innocent victim. You heard it go through the flesh and crack the bone. Winston brings it up again, and attacks the cut again, and again, and again, until you hear a thud of something hitting the hay-covered dirt floor of the blood house.

You couldn't stand being in that room any longer, so you excuse yourself to go to the "restrooms."

In those few spare minutes, you decide to go to the one place where you feel completely comfortable, the clearing.

You walk slowly along the walls to make sure you can go unnoticed.

In the distance, you can see the builders putting the final touches on the chickens' pen. From what you could see, they'd seemed to had done a good job.

As you pass an entrance to the maze, you stop and stare in. The tall walls continued to the end of the passageway, and split off into two separate paths at the end.

You wonder how Minho and the other runners could go in and come back out before the doors shut. You wonder if you could do it without getting completely lost. As you ponder, random questions pop into your head.
Who else in the Glade could run that maze and come out alive?
How do the people that go in get chosen?
How often do people not come back?
Why did they go every day?

All of the questions and theoretical responses jumble up in your head and get pulled into a whirlwind of "what if"s.

Your head aches from the over activity, so you push the craziness down and to cleared your mind.

With a cool and collected head on your shoulders, you continue your journey to the deadheads. As you pass each tree on your way to that special spot, you skim your fingers along the coarse bark. Once you reach it, you just stand there, remembering the night before. It was your first kiss, or at least the first you can remember, and you think you're in love with who you shared it with.

In the middle of your daydreams, you remember where you're supposed to be. You run back as fast as you can, back to that horrible place.

Once inside, you see Winston and the other boys pulling bones out of the freshly skinned slabs of meat.

Mentally scared for life, you couldn't take it anymore. You run outside again and loose your lunch near a shrub on the side of the barn and the Glade wall.

As you wipe the grime from your mouth, you hear someone come up behind you.

"You okay Greenie?" asks a voice.

"I'll be fine," you reply, looking down at what used to be last night's pasta.

As you turned to face him, you see a thin, tall boy with brown hair. Another notable quality was that he was carrying a butcher's knife that was dripping with blood, but in his line of work it's normal.

Reluctantly, you follow him back inside.

"(y/n)!" Winston calls to you as he works away.

"What?" you reply halfheartedly.

"Go help Apollo,"

Winston uses his unarmed hand to point to the boy who led you in. You roll your eyes and trudge over.

"Hiya," he says as you come over to his work area, a wooden table dripping with blood.

After that quick greeting, he gets back to work on the red-stained, raw meat. You stand on the other side of the little table and watched him cut.
Apollo put down his knife and reached into the flesh to pulled out a piece of its backbone. He yanks on the bone until it dislocates from the others. Then he passes it to you.

"Hold this will ya?"

"Sure..."

You slip your fingers around the slimy bone and grip it tightly as he begins to dig his knife in and out of the flesh. He quickly slips it in between each rib to get all of the meat off.

"Slow down a bit, will ya?" you say as your hands begin to slip on the bone.

"Relax, it I'll be-"

The knife slips.

Thankfully it misses your hands, but that's because it went in between them to hit just above your knee.

"Oh my God," you say simultaneously.

"Winston!" he calls out with a look of complete panic on his face. "I dropped my knife!"

"Then bloody pick it back up!" he calls back in a terrible British accent.

"Stop trying to mimic Newt! I dropped it on her!"

You throw the bone on the table and takes the knife out of your leg. Ow.

"Then get her to the Med-Jacks!"

Apollo rushes to your side and picks you up bridal style.

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry," he says as he runs.

You look down at your injury, only to see a pool blood leaking down yours leg.

"Clint! Jeff!" you call out as you reach the med-jacks' hut.

Jeff comes running out and takes you from Apollo's arms, all the while staring at the red gash in your leg.

At once, he rushes you into your room and takes off your shorts. Then Clint walks in through the open door.

"What the shuck happened to you?" he asks, looking at your leg.

Finally noticing Apollo, his eyes got bigger. Because he was a slicer, it was obvious you had been cut.

"Will someone please close the shucking door!?" you yell, still in pain.

Clint leaves in a flash and returns just as quickly with supplies and a needle containing a purple liquid. He closes the door and puts the needle through the skin in your thigh above the gash.

For the second time in the Glade, you fall unconscious.