𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐈𝐄

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐒

OVER THE course of a few minutes, Newt and I walked in unison. We didn't speak any words, nor were there any to be said. I figured that we were both tired enough and for some odd reason, I didn't want to pester him with questions. The very same questions that were still pondering in my head.

The grass slightly crunched and cracked underneath our feet, bending due to the abundance of weight. I felt sort of similar to the grass in that aspect. There was an abundance of weight-- about being trapped between walls-- over me. I felt as if I would crack and give out. There wasn't much going on in the background. All I could hear were the swaying of the trees, the crunch of the grass, and the footsteps of Newt, the remainder of the boys, and me.

"There we are," I heard the soft melodic voice speak. Until now, I had been gazing at my feet, watching my feet as they walked in synchronization with Newt's. I looked away from our feet and up at Newt, our faces being a few inches apart. He cleared his throat and turned away from me and toward a building of some sort. It was almost entirely made out of wood.

"This is the homestead. It's where we sleep," he enlightened. I watched as he opened up the door to the two-storied homestead. On the right of me, I barely missed seeing the occasional tables plated outside. The tables were made of wood, just like everything else. They weren't huge, but they weren't small either. They were perfectly in the middle of both. Mid-sized. He continued as he walked inside. "Where we live."

Newt's footsteps slowly disintegrated into the wooden homestead and I was left outside. Alone. Before stepping into the homestead and once again trailing behind Newt, I observed my surroundings. There was grass and trees. There was dirt, mud, and wooden buildings.  And lastly, the concrete walls. My eyes surveyed the walls. The walls that kept us all in here. Stuck. Together. My body let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding.

I forced my reluctant feet to walk up the pair of stairs and walked inside the homestead. It was bigger than I had thought. Interesting. My eyes scanned through the narrow wooden hallway, a staircase at the end. The staircase wasn't well built, but it was decent enough. It could hold the weight of an average-sized male.

Leaning against the railing of the staircase was Newt. He was biting his thumb, a habit he and I seemingly shared. I began my cautious stride toward the slender male, his weary eyes already on mine. His eyebrows were furrowed as he observed my figure, mostly wondering why I, a girl, was sent up with a bunch of males.

Newt pushed his back off the railing, his left knee almost immediately buckling. I caught up to him as he made his way up the rickety stairs. I stayed quiet, watching him. I could hear the slight wincing again. Curiosity clouded my brain. What's wrong with him?

"The keepers of the jobs sleep up here. Alby, Minho, and I," he informed. Minho? Who was Minho? Before I could ask him about Minho, he spoke. It was as if he heard my thoughts. "Minho is a keeper of the runners. One of the jobs we have. You'll meet him soon."