Gladers choice | TMR | Thomas | Minho

Chapter Four

As the first rays of sunlight filtered through the windows, Lyra stirred from her slumber, her eyelids heavy with sleep. With a groan, she reached for her trusty wristwatch, its familiar weight a reassuring presence on her wrist. A quick glance revealed that she had overslept, although only by a mere fraction of time. Yet, in the world of the Glade, where routines dictated survival, even a slight change from her runner schedule sent ripples of unease through her consciousness. She sighed softly, debating the benefits of lingering in the comfort of her bed versus facing the unknown challenges that awaited her beyond the confines of the homestead.

Before she could sulk over her dilemma any further, a series of brisk knocks echoed through the room, followed by the chipper voice of Chuck, the ever-optimistic Glader who never seemed to lose his smile despite the grim reality of their situation. "Hey, Lyra, are you awake?" he called out, his enthusiasm noticable even through the closed door. With a resigned chuckle, Lyra invited him in, her lips twitching into a smile at the sight of his eager expression.

Chuck's arrival announced the beginning of yet another day in the Glade, a day that promised both challenges and friendship in equal measure. With a grin, he askedwhether she was prepared to embrace the day as a regular Greenie, a role reversal that Lyra found both amusing and endearing. With a small nod, she rose from her bed, the creaking of the wooden frame a familiar melody that accompanied her every movement. Chuck promised to wait for her outside, a beacon of unwavering positivity in a world full of uncertainty.

Stepping outside, Lyra was greeted by the soft glow of dawn, the air filled with the sounds of waking Gladers and the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze. Chuck stood waiting patiently, his infectious smile lighting up his features as they started on their journey towards the cafeteria. Along the winding path, Chuck peppered Lyra with a bulldoze of questions, his curiosity seemingly boundless. From inquiries about Minho's reaction to her recent fall to the current state of her injured ankle, Chuck's relentless chatter provided a welcome distraction from the looming sense of monotony that hung in the air.

"Did he laugh as you fell?" He asked with a small grin tugging at his lips. Lyra rolled her eyes and jabbed him in the side and replied with a sassy remark, "Oh, probably, but only because he's never seen someone trip over nothing like I do!" Chuck's laughter errupted, filling the early morning Glade.

As they approached the cafeteria area, Lyra's attention turned towards Alby, who appeared uncharacteristically bored as he guided the new Greenie around the Glade, giving him the monthly tour everyone got when they first entered. A soft chuckle escaped Lyra's lips as she observed Alby's attempts to maintain an air of authority, a stark contrast to his demeanor on her first day in the Glade when uncertainty had filled the air.

Her amusement faded as she caught sight of the new greenie's back, his posture rigid and tense. There was something off about him, a subtle shift in behaviour that set him apart from the other Gladers. Lyra furrowed her brow in thought, her mind racing to unravel the mystery that surrounded him.

Turning her gaze towards the towering maze doors, Lyra felt a pang of disappointment wash over her. If not for her injury, she could have been out there, running alongside Minho, exploring the labyrinthine corridors that stretched endlessly before them. The thought of being confined to the homestead filled her with a sense of restlessness, a longing for the freedom that lay just beyond her reach.

Their journey to the cafeteria continued at a leisurely pace, Lyra's injured ankle slowing their progress. Yet, despite the physical discomfort, Lyra found peace in the familiar rhythm of their footsteps, a reminder of the bond that united them as Gladers. As they approached the bustling hub of activity, Lyra's senses were assailed by the tantalizing aroma of food wafting through the air, the sound of laughter and chatter mingling harmoniously with the gentle rustle of leaves overhead.