Jealousy // Gally x reader

Chapter Twenty-Eight - Teresa

Y/n's dream

I suck in a sharp breath, and my stomach tightens as I realise I'm trapped in another memory, except this time, I'm extremely young, only around 5 or 6 years old.

I'm seated comfortably on a toddler-sized wooden chair, completely infatuated with what's in front of me. Resting on the table is a collection of brightly coloured crayons, and a booklet, each page lined with twists and turns of different mazes that I'm completing relatively quickly.

I snap my view to the side, and spy the unsullied, dreadful gingerish blonde woman beside me, watching as I work. "Wow y/n, you're very good at this." She exclaims, smiling at younger me's pleasure. "It's so fun! I wish there was a real life puzzle like this." I squeal, and her face snaps into deep thought.

"Y/n! You clever, clever girl! That's just the answer we've been looking for!" She picks me up, spinning me around effortlessly before planting a careful kiss on my cheek and striding out into one of the overly cleansed hallways.

Fuck.

I finally understood what Ben meant, this was my fault. I had given them the idea to make the maze, this wouldn't have happened if it weren't for me.

Little me, so naive, just picks up a sunset orange crayon, and flips to a new page of her booklet, unaware that she's responsible for the murder of so many young boys. As I study the parchment, buried in concentration, and the lines return to my conscious, the twists and turns become all too recognisable. This was it.

This was the maze.

End of y/n's dream

Panting, I snap upright, irritation burning deep within me. Of course, just as I'm about to find the possible escape from this confinement, my body decides to give me an unwanted break from my relentless nightmares.

Light floods into the unexpecting arms of the Glade, pouring through the shallow gaps in the trees above. I notice a few of the other boys walking slowly over to the section of the maze of which the door will open, sleep still attacking their drowsy bodies.

I can tell that the entrance will open soon, and this is further supported as more boys start waking up, earnest faced, and marching glumly to those already perched by the cold stone walls.

I follow them like a shepherd to sheep, resting my hand sympathetically upon Chuck's boyish shoulders. His eyes are laced with hope, unfortunately, I can't afford that innocent luxury.

I suck in a sharp breath as the walls begin to roar, a gap separating them by a growing interval. I search every inch that I can see, silently praying with everything I've got that three figures will come sprinting around the corner.

But nothing happens.

Nothing changes, no movement stirs, and there's not even the faintest sound of murmuring coming from the dark haze of the maze.

"Told you, Chuck. They're not coming back." Newt spits, and I shoot him a deadly glare. "Shut the fuck up Newt." I yelp, my voice raised as anger boils in my stomach. "What's your problem?" He asks, getting up in my face. I press my finger against his chest. "You, you're my fucking problem. Minho was your best friend, and you were practically ignoring your own boyfriend for the greenie, and now you treat them dying as if it doesn't matter? What the actual fuck!" We begin to scream at each other, neither of us being able to hear the points that the other is making, and I can feel Enzo's eyes flicking between us.

"Stop!" Zart jeers, trying to create a gap between us with his hands. A few of the other boys join in, attempting to calm Newt and I from our bickering. It doesn't work, we're both too worked up.