Gladiolus ~ The Maze Runner

1~2: New Friends Because Whoever Is Sending Supplies Knows I Would Die Alone

A month went by. Every day that had passed, I made a tally. I also put my name on the wall because why not? This is basically my house now, so I get to do what I want. 

After losing my shit for a week straight, I pulled myself together and had made a solid lean-to to sleep under. The next week, I had started a nice garden for my seeds. Once I got everything out of the box, it went back down to wherever it came from.

While I worked, I usually daydreamed about who I used to be, and what I was here for. 

Obviously, my first theory was that this was a prison, and I did some heinous crime that they put me away for. I tried to brainstorm what I would do, but I honestly can't give a solid reason for doing something so terrible that my memory would be wiped and the rest of me was locked into a warmer version of Siberia. My second theory is that I signed some form for a social experiment and that I could win money if I survived for a certain period of time. My final guess was that I was basically entertainment for society, and they were watching me and placing bets on when or how I would die.

As for what was beyond those doors, I don't have a clue in the fucking world. I took a few steps out, then went screaming back into the Glade at the slightest noise. Sidebar - my little green space has a name now. Back to those walls. 

What I did find out is that every morning, those doors open and there's a new pathway ahead. One day, there's a pathway to the right. Next, there's one to the left. Then one to the left and right. Then one to the left, one straight ahead, and one to the right. And so on. I figured out that it has to be some sort of maze that constantly changes, which is just wonderful. I hate my life.

I'm being too negative. I've done a good job surviving. No signs of other life so far, aside from those blood-chilling screams I hear at night. Whatever makes that sound I've decided to call a Griever, because I will definitely be grieving my soul if I run into one of them. 

Anywho, I was all alone until that 30th day, when I heard those familiar blaring alarms from the Box.

I took a little stroll over there and watched the Box rise. The first big cover slid back, grinding against the stones. I lifted the cage doors and beheld... a person. I wanted to cry tears of joy because I was going insane talking to myself every day. Peering down, I observed my new acquaintance.

It was a him, and the boy couldn't have been more than fifteen. Dark skin, stocky build, hair buzzed. He was busy hacking up water, like I had been. When he was finished, he took a deep, shuddering breath and sat up on his knees, exhausted.

"Hi there," I said, and he jumped out of his skin. "Sorry!" I exclaimed. I slowly clambered down into the box, keeping my hands up in a surrendering gesture, like I was calming a frightened puppy. I sat down on one of the crates, giving the boy space. I let him look at me, the crates, and the grates around him that formed the Box. His eyes eventually came back to me, confused and afraid.
"My name is Hanna," I said. "Do you happen to remember anything about yourself?" He opened his mouth to speak, then faltered and shook his head in defeat. "I... I..." he looked away, ashamed, and began to cry.

"Hey, hey," I spoke softly, moving beside him, my hand hovering over his shoulder. "It's okay," I said, lightly touching him. He flinched at my hand, then relaxed under it. I continued to speak as I crouched next to him. "I didn't remember anything either. I know how you feel. You have no idea who you are, where you came from, or where you are. I showed up in the exact same way you did. It's okay to cry. But don't freak out too much because I can help you."

Can I?

The boy looks at me, studying my face. "D-do you know where we are?"
I smile and offer my hand. "Let me show you."