𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐚- Tmr - Thomas

01- 𝙌𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨

"Athena, Athena, Athena"  I mumbled to myself repeatedly.

If my name was the only artifact of my past remaining in my mind, then what was the significance of it? Surely there was a reason why that was the only thing I could remember, or that I was allowed to remember. I have spent over two years in the Glade now and yet our names are all that I and the other inhabitants of this abnormal place can recall.

But that is far from the only question I have. Given that I spend so much time simply sitting with my abundance of thoughts I have many questions, but no answers. For example,

Why have a group of about fifty teenagers been inexplicably sent up into a mysterious labyrinth?

Why have all our memories been wiped except for our names?

Why are we left to fend for ourselves in such a dangerous habitat?

Who put us here?

But most importantly

Why was I the only girl?

 This is the question I had been contemplating ever since the first day I arrived in this unnerving, inelegantly built, hellish location called The Glade. Being surrounded by fifty boys was a cruel fate. I couldn't imagine who would want to subdue me to such torture. Unfortunately though as I've previously mentioned, these are all unanswered queries. And despite how hard I attempt to discover these much-needed answers, they are nowhere to be found, mysteries left unsolved.

"Athena!" An irritated voice belted out from below me. "Athena, you're needed, so if you could make a bloody appearance that would be great."

This startled me and snapped me out of my pensiveness. I rapidly scrambled down from the tree I had been perched in to spend my lunch hour and thumped onto the ground. Before me stood a tall, pale boy with messy dirty blonde hair that I was all too familiar with.

"Hi Newt" I said in greeting to the Glade's one and only, second-in-command.

His green eyes flickered over my hunched-over body, exhausted from my rapid descent from the tree. "You're wanted back in the Med Hut, one of the slicers' gotten himself into a bit of a predicament in there," Newt explains, eyebrows furrowed.

"Oh, okay. No problem, I'll go over there now." I reply noticing the concern in his features. I had now recovered from my previous exertion and began trekking out of the Dead Heads towards the Med Hut. 

While on my stroll I thought about the Glader's unusual naming system, Dead Heads instead of woods, MedJack instead of a doctor or a medic, TrackHoe instead of a Gardener, and a whole abundance of other confusing word substitutes that had become normal to the Gladers over the years of living here.

Eventually, I made it to the makeshift doorway of this tacked-together 'hospital'. I walked under the archway and into the hut making my way straight to my desk. Having my own desk was only one of the benefits of being Keeper of the MedJacks. For example, I got to make key decisions on how the medical system is run here, I get to teach other MedJacks the secrets of the trade, and most importantly, I'm not under anybody else's control. I love being able to freely do my job without being under the judgment and command of somebody else.

Upon reaching my desk I see Clint, one of my fellow medics, speaking with a patient on one of our beds. I made my way over to them to examine the situation.

"Athena, you're finally here." Clint acknowledged with a sigh of relief. He moved to the side slightly revealing a Slicer with a deep laceration on his wrist. His face agonized with obvious pain. "I wasn't completely certain what the best way to treat him would be so I thought I'd wait for you," Clint explained.

"Alright, I can take over from here," I stated confidently. Clint flashed me a grateful smile before returning to assist other patients. "Okay, so what happened here?" I asked the Slicer as I pulled over a chair sitting next to his bed.

"Well, I was slicing as usual, but I can't say I was entirely focused and before I knew it, my hand slipped and my knife slashed into my wrist." The Slicer summarised quickly while wincing in pain.

I nodded as I listened to him recount the story and begin gathering the needed supplies for treating the injury. I began by carefully but effectively cleaning the wound. I then applied an antibiotic ointment before carefully dressing the wound with a clean bandage, wrapping it gently so as not to provoke pain, but tightly enough to do its job.

"There you go.." I quietly remark as I finish bandaging his wrist. "Good for now, just try not to use it at all for a while and come back in about three days for a progress check." He thanks me appreciatively and exits the Med Hut. I sit at my desk and write a medical report on his injury to add to his file. Ever since I was elected as Keeper I have kept a file on every Glader on their medical history. Knowing their past experiences has proven very useful when treating a patient even if for an unrelated issue.

As I'm putting the report into its corresponding file I hear a familiar bell chime. 

The dinner bell. 

Great, I was famished. I hurried out of the Med Hut and towards the direction the bell had rung the kitchen. Once I arrived I took a plate from the stack and joined the queue, slowly making my way to the top. 

"Hey Athena, hope you're hungry, I made my famous stew tonight," Frypan announced to me proudly as he scooped a ladle-full of the unappealing delicacy onto my plate. It's not that Frypan was a bad cook, the lack of quality supplies provided was the main issue. Nonetheless, Frypan always slaved away for hours a day in the kitchen, dedicated to serving up the best he could. Besides he was a genuine, kind guy, and that's not common in the Glade, unfortunately, and although I can't exactly call him my friend, I am grateful to have him around. "Thanks, Fry," I  replied gratefully as I walked off.

Now came the never-ending dilemma that I faced daily, yet never seemed to find a resolution too. Where to sit. There were many options, the Slicers, the Trackhoes, the Runners, and even my fellow MedJacks. But despite the variety, I don't feel I belong at any of these tables. It's not that I'm not friends with the other Gladers, I just don't let myself get too close to them, and they all kind of stopped trying after I made it apparent that I don't want to socialize not long after my arrival. Getting too close will only result in hurt and they'll end up leaving me. That's what I tell myself, where did I develop this mindset? If only I knew, I guess I'll add it to my list of questions.

After my short examination of the area, I zig-zagged my way through to crowd to the empty bench in the corner that I seemed to have claimed. I set my plate down on the wooden table and sat down on the wooden bench and silently and slowly began consuming my meal. After only about a minute a familiar face makes an appearance.

"You wouldn't believe how difficult being a TrackHoe can be" He complained, flopping himself down on the bench across from me. "My arms are practically broken from all that manual labour." he exaggerates. Xander,  the only Glader who isn't repelled by my unsocial behaviour and chooses to spend time with me. My lack of responses and absence of reciprocation never seem to bother him. "Newt has us harvesting all day, and I'm beginning to question my life choices." He states shaking his head. He then looks up at me and asks "How was your day Thea? Surely it has to be some step up from mine."

"It was fine" I recount not taking my attention away from the food before me. 

"Come on Thea, you know I love details, don't refrain from telling me everything." Xander encouraged, maintaining his attempt at making eye contact with a wide grin.

Eventually, I looked up to meet his gaze. "Well there was a builder that had hammered his hand and a Slicer that-" 

Before I could finish recounting my day I was abruptly cut off by a blaring siren I had long since grown accustomed to. 

The box had arrived.

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A/N Heyy! So that's the first chapter done, what do we think so far?

I have so many ideas for this story and I can't wait to write them, hope you'll enjoy reading them! <3