Chapter Sixty-four

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- It's just better to forget him... -


That night, sleep feels impossible. I toss and turn in bed, desperately trying to find some comfort, but the images of Ben's terrified face as the doors closed keep replaying in my mind. His screams echo in my ears, haunting me with every blink, every turn. I can't escape it.

I sit up in bed, frustration clawing at my insides. Slipping on my boots, I decide to leave my hut, hoping that maybe, just maybe, walking around in the quiet of the night will help clear my head. The air is cool and still, the only sound the soft rustle of the leaves. As I walk through the Glade, I see Gally and two other Gladers walking toward the walls, their movements slow and deliberate. They stop in front of the wall, and I watch as they begin scratching out Ben's name, the marks fading with each stroke.

I turn away, not wanting to watch, and notice the other boys sleeping soundly in their hammocks. The sight makes my chest tighten, but then my eyes fall on Thomas and Chuck, who are still awake, sitting in their hammocks, watching the others.

I make my way over to them, careful not to wake anyone else. "Hey..." I whisper, sitting down between their hammocks. Both of them glance at me as I settle in, and Chuck gives me a small smile. "Can't sleep?" he asks softly.

"No," I answer, feeling the weight of the words in my chest. "Every time I try closing my eyes, all I see is Ben's face right before the doors closed." A shiver runs through me as the images flood my mind again, and I wrap my arms around myself, trying to stave off the cold that's creeping into my bones.

Thomas shifts, looking toward the wall where Gally and the others are still marking over Ben's name. "Do you think he might make it?" he asks, his voice quiet but heavy with hope.

"Ben?" Chuck says, looking at Thomas with a thoughtful expression before turning his gaze to the wall. He sighs, the weight of the situation hanging over all of us. "No." He says it with finality, and I can hear the sadness in his voice.

I speak up, my voice barely above a whisper. "It was pure luck I even survived." The words taste bitter on my tongue, but it's the truth. I was lucky. I should have been just like Ben, or worse.

"You just gotta forget about him," Chuck says, trying to offer some comfort before turning over in his hammock, signaling that he's ready to sleep.

But Thomas and I stay silent, staring at the walls. I can feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating, and I can tell Thomas is struggling with it as much as I am. After a long moment of silence, I finally sigh and get to my feet.

"Well, I think I'll try to get some sleep as well," I say softly, trying to shake off the heaviness that's settled on me.

I walk back to my hut, but as soon as I lie down, my mind refuses to stop. No matter what I do—closing my eyes, turning over, pulling the covers tighter—I can't escape the images of Ben being shoved into the maze, his face twisted in fear, his pleas echoing in my mind.

The night stretches on in a blur of restless tossing and turning. After what feels like an eternity, I finally drift into a deep sleep, but even then, the dreams are filled with Ben's face and the crushing finality of the maze.

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