girl in the maze // {the maze runner, thomas}

chapter 1

My eyes shoot open only to be greeted with darkness. I feel a dull pain throbbing in my leg, and my head is pounding.

I feel around me and am met with four cold, seemingly metal walls in a space just large enough for me and a few unidentifiable items. I quickly try to assess where I am, but draw a blank. I have no recollection of what I could have been doing before now.

My pulse begins racing, and I begin to shake.

I sit myself up, and scoot towards one of the corners, my leg protesting the movement by sending waves of pain throughout the whole lower half.

A panic runs through me as it all sets in. I don't know where I am.

I take a few shaky breaths before my next thought hits me like a stack of bricks.

I don't know who I am.

The more I consider it, the more terrified I feel. I can not remember a single, solid fact about my previous life. Even my name feels like a distant memory, shrouded by a shadow, just out of reach. I can recall little things about life, like the feeling of a bustling city or the sun on my skin, but I couldn't tell you where I lived.

The grinding of the container grows into background noise as I try to sort through my mind. I rifle through cloudy memories, finding nothing solid enough to gain any sort of understanding of my whereabouts. Everything I can think up becomes a dead end, sifting away like sand through my fingers.

It feels like this contraption is going up, towards something, but I can't be sure. Minutes turn into hours, and just as I begin to nod off again, the container screeches to a halt.

My heart rate speeds up.

I try to make myself smaller, squishing into the corner. This movement causes a sharp jab of pain to ripple through my leg, and I let out a small yelp.

Alarms are blaring from somewhere outside, and before I can prepare myself a hatch above me opens, and light floods in. I have to shield my face with my hand while my eyes adjust to the sudden change.

I hear a slight murmuring from the opening, and a thud sounds right beside me. I jolt, sending another shot of pain down my leg, but this time I bite my tongue.

A boy's face, he can't be older than sixteen or seventeen, peers down at me.

"You're a girl," he mutters, more to himself it seems than me.

"Thank you for the observation?" I reply although it sounds like a question.

"Sorry," he shakes his head, clearing away some seemingly unimportant thoughts. "Where are my manners? Welcome to the Glade!"

The boy offers me his hand, and I reluctantly accept it. I try to stand up but have forgotten completely about my leg. It crumples under my weight, and I fall back to the floor.

"Bloody hell," the boy says, "your leg looks like klunk."

My eyes drift for the first time toward my leg, and it takes everything in me not to vomit on sight.

It's covered completely in blood. There appears to be some type of tourniquet attached, although whoever did that apparently didn't care much about doing it right.

Another boy, slightly larger in stature, jumps in beside the first boy and inspects my leg.

"Well she's no good to us wounded," he announces. "Clint, get your Med-Jacks and start working."

Another surge of terror fills me as even more boys I don't know jump into the box, immediately poking and prodding my wound.

I clench my jaw at the burning sensation, unable to stop the groan that escapes my lips.

"Hey, get off me!" I yell at the boys, not particularly enjoying their invasive attitudes.

"We're just trying to help, Greenie," the boy, Clint, glances around at the other guys, rolling his eyes in the process.

"Okay, Greenie," I reply, repeating the same gesture. "I'd like someone to tell me what is going on!"

The boys laugh, and I feel more confused now than I did surrounded by darkness in the box.

"Lesson one, Greenie," the first boy starts, his diction different than the others, "information here is earned, not given. We have to be able to trust ya before we spill our guts to ya. Lesson two, 'Greenie' is only for newcomers. The rest of us are known as Gladers."

"So what, everyone has the same name?" I question the boy.

"No," he chuckles, "I'm Newt. This here's Gally," he nods towards the second, larger boy. "Your name should come to ya soon. But let's worry 'bout that injury of yours first. Looks like you've been through the bloody ringer."

This time, I allow the group of "Med-Jacks", as Gally referred to them, to tend to my leg. Everything in my gut is begging me not to trust them, but I feel too exhausted to care. Whatever happened to me before I was in that box is still a mystery and I figure it's better to quell the thoughts racing around in my mind and let these people, or Gladers, help.

Two Med-Jacks help me to my feet and secure some rope around me. Boys at the top of the opening begin to pull the rope up, and those still in the box help guide my rising body. After I'm firmly on the ground, they unwind the rope and stabilize me by swinging my arms over their shoulders.

I take a deep, steadying breath and look around. The surrounding area is a large, grass field, surrounded by small, rugged buildings that appear as though the boys built them. All around me, boys stare, gawking at what seems like my mere existence. It is only then that I realize the reason for the shock on Newt's face as he beheld me.

I'm the only girl here.