➊ 𝐑𝐮𝐧 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 - 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐡𝐨, ᵗᵐʳ

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟗: 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐧 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞

A familiar figure appeared as soon as I put the gasoline on the ground. A builder with quite a lot of anger issues and a deformed nose. Someone I knew too damn well. Gally.

"I..." I started speaking but couldn't figure out what to say. 'This isn't what it looks like' was a total lie. And trying it with Gally was way worse than dealing with a Griever.

"You're not supposed to be here." He said, and surprisingly, he didn't seem as angry as usual. Maybe he finally got the message I could break his neck. Ḩe crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for an explanation that never came.

"I just wanted to get a look at the weapons." Even I knew this wouldn't help. The basement of the homestead wasn't accessible to anyone, Keepers and Runners only. I may have been a Runner, too, he wouldn't believe me anyway.

"Didn't you choose the bow?"He added, raising an eyebrow.

"I needed more arrows, you know, for tomorrow." I laughed awkwardly. Why was I acting all weird all of a sudden? Regain yourself, Evelyn. Quick.

"Don't lie." Those two single words sent shivers down my spine; now was not the time to get caught.

"I'm not."

"Then why are you standing over here while the arrows are over there." He pointed to another side of the room, which was on my opposite side.

"Okay, fine, I wasn't! And why are you here? Are you gonna say it's my fault that this thing came up?"

He looked at the gasoline and then back up at me. He walked toward the container as if he was going to grab it. I moved in front of him; he didn't have to look at it.

"Chill, that's not what I wanted to get." He gently, surprisingly, pushed me aside, going a few steps forward and grabbed a little box. He opened the box, revealing the many papers inside, I couldn't quite see what was written on them before he closed it again and spoke.

"That's what came up the box."

"Okay, and what do you want me to do about it?" It was my turn to cross my arms.

"Listen, I don't like you, Evelyn, but if someone can understand what those mean, I think it's you." He forced the compartment into my hands as I looked up at him, confused.

"Are you actually giving me those? You, Gally, the most self-centred Shank, want to give me this? I'm not buying it."

"Look, take it or not, but it might help you understand things."

"Fine, thank you, I guess?" I stared at the box in my hands, not daring to open it again under his gaze. That's what I came for, first of all, so why was I so reluctant to just take it? For all I knew, it could reveal stuff I wouldn't want to know.

"Just let me know if you find anything." He sighed, and I simply nodded. "Now get out of here before I tell Alby what you were doing here."

"Right..." I made my way to the door, but he stopped me, making me turn around to face him. "Aren't you gonna take some arrows?"

"You know what, I don't need them." I gave him a fake smile and made my way to my cabin. I had a long night ahead of me. When I got out, I tried the best I could to hide the box, but obviously, in a space that big, I had to run into Chuck.

"Hey, what is that?" He joined me and walked by my side.

"Feminine stuff." It was the first thing I could think of that would keep him and his curiosity away for a while.

"Oh." His smile faded quickly as he passed his hand in his curls nervously. "I... uh... leave you to it..."

"Thanks, goodnight Chuck."

"Night..." He whispered. I had probably traumatized him, sort of.

I got to my cabin and threw myself over the mattress, looking at the ceiling for a while, determining if I should open it now or later. The chance that someone would go and look into my cabin while I was running tomorrow was quite high. I didn't have time to explain to anyone what this was, so I decided myself and did it.

"Alright, I'm doing it."

I opened the lid only to see about 50 papers where a single sentence was on it. The writing was weird, yet it wasn't a foreign language, no. It was as if someone had written those only for them to understand, like someone with an ugly handwriting no one could read. I didn't know where I got this comparison from. There wasn't any paper in the glade nor pencils.

So why did I get this feeling that I wrote those, that this handwriting belonged to me? Maybe it was because of that time I engraved my name on the wall, how I struggled to write the six letters of my name. I took a closer look at the papers, no, it wasn't a different language because I could read those seven papers.

"ᎷᎥᏁᏂᎧ Ꮧ7 ᏖᏂᏋ ᏝᏋᏗᎴᏋᏒ"

"ᏗᏝᏰᎩ Ꮧ6 ᏖᏂᏋ ᏗᏕᏕᎥᎴᏬᎧᏬᏕ"

"ᏁᏋᏇᏖ Ꮧ5 ᏖᏂᏋ ᎶᏝᏬᏋ"

"ᎦᏒᎩᎮᏗᏁ Ꮧ4 ᏖᏂᏋ ᎦᏗᎥᏖᏂᎦᏬᏝ"

"ፈᏂᏬፈᏦ Ꮧ3 ᏖᏂᏋ ᎦᏒᎥᏋᏁᎴ"

"ᏖᏂᎧᎷᏗᏕ Ꮧ2 ᏖᎧ ᏰᏋ ᏦᎥᏝᏝᏋᎴ ᏰᎩ ᎶᏒᎧᏬᎮ Ᏸ"

"ᏖᏋᏒᏋᏕᏗ Ꮧ1 ᏖᏂᏋ ᏰᏋᏖᏒᏗᎩᏋᏒ"

Minho A7 the leader. Alby A6 the assiduous. Newt A5 the glue. Frypan A4 the faithful. Chuck A3 the friend. Thomas A2 to be killed by group B. Teresa A1 the betrayer.

I knew five of those names. I did hear Thomas before, in my distant dreams. This was only proof that I wasn't going crazy; this guy really did exist, and it wasn't my imagination. Teresa, though, was the only one that sounded feminine and yet so familiar.

If all those names were in the Glade did it mean those two would be the next to join or that they created the maze? It was as if I was juggling with the past and the future. Nothing about it inspired confidence. Gally was wrong, It didn't help me understand anything at all.

It made me realize that I wasn't the only one with a name or with a number, we were all subjects, trapped like mice trying to find a way out. They were studying us, watching us, monitoring us. Not just me.

I dug deeper in the box, getting all the papers out. I read the names Simon, Hawk, Ben, Gally, Winston, Jeff, Clint, Zart and so many others... Some of them didn't have text, only a number. But if my theory was right and I did write those, how come I had no memory of it? How come I knew all this stuff? And most importantly, why wasn't my name here?

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