The rivers daughter

2- my polite, ladylike daughter

⚠️Trigger warnings! Blood and needles!

When I wake up again, my heart drops to my stomach. I attempt to process what I now remember. Janson is my father and Ava Paige is my mother, I worked for W.C.K.D, I helped to design Maze A, we had dreams and goals in life, I was considered "different" from the others, Newt and Sonya are siblings, and I willingly entered the Maze...

I glance down at my arms, watching as the male nurse injects something into my forearm. It stings, quite a bit actually. A few silent tears fall down my cheeks, my emotions hitting me like a tonne of bricks. "I miss the Glen..." I mumble to myself.

My words go unheard by others, not that they'd be able to do anything about what I said anyway. He removes the needle from my arm, gently dabbing the spot of blood off of my skin. I notice my wrists has been freed from the restraints I was in earlier. I lift my arms off the bed and bringing my hands to my face, feeling a little more comfortable.

I gently tuck my hair behind my ears before wiping my tears from my cheeks, staring across the room at the one-way glass. The mirrored side is facing me, but I know better than to think W.C.K.D isn't watching me. I stare at my reflection, looking for similarities between me and my so called "parents".

I have his eyes and her nose, her hair colour and his skin tone. Seeing the similarities hurts, I can see the resemblance. It's subtle, but it's there.

My train of thought is broken by the sound of Ava's voice. "I need to speak to the subject," she says. The subject, who the hell refers to their own daughter as the subject?!

I watch as the two nurses leave the room, leaving me alone with her. A girl should feel safe and comfortable with her mother, but that's far from how I feel. I feel some sort of expectation that she's going to do something to me, something bad.

Instead, she sits down on the foot of the bed, placing a hand on my knee. "How are you feeling? I know this is a lot to take in and all..." she says softly, her thumb stroking my skin.

Goosebumps spread along my body, my skin crawling at the motherly affection. "It hurts, deep inside," I whisper shakily.

She gives me a sympathetic smile, "do you want to talk about it?" She asks quietly. My stomach twists, feeling uncomfortable with the love and sympathy I'm receiving. I look into her eyes, my own filled with tears. "Yes," I mutter, "you're my mom, right?"

"I am, I'm your mom." She smiles and takes my hand in hers, causing my skin to crawl a little. "And Janson is my dad?" I ask, my eyes never leaving the sight of our hands tangled together.

"Uh, yes, he is," she says, a hint of uncertainty in her tone. I tilt my head to the side at her uncertainty but decide to brush it off for now. "Why did I work for W.C.K.D?" I ask softly, deciding to just ask all my questions at once.

"Because, you are smart, talented, and logical. That's exactly what we need in our employees," she explains, her thumb stroking the back of my hand. I watch her hand for a moment, "I helped to design Maze A, right?" I ask.

She nods, her eyes never leaving my face, not even for a second. I only barely notice her nod out of the corner of my eye, staying quiet for a second as I realise exactly what I've done. I designed the maze that killed a lot of my best friends' friends, the maze that killed people at all, the maze that traumatised my friends.

"Why did they say I was 'different' from the others?" I ask hesitantly, not really knowing if I actually wanted an answer to that question. "Because, you're my daughter," she says. Despite already knowing that, hearing those words exit her mouth creeps me out.