Maze Runner One Shots (Requests Open)

Not Alone (Aris)

This one shot does contain self harm. Please proceed with caution.

This was requested by Slytherindumbgirl42

Everyone I care for is gone. My friends that are all I was able to remember, the ones I called family, the ones I worked so hard to protect, are dead. Every person I hung out with and ignored is dead. Every person I liked and disliked us dead. Everyone but I is dead.

Janson and his weird group tried to encourage me to make new friends. They said there were plenty of other people here. They wouldn't shut up about new beginnings and making the best out of the worst thing that can happen to somebody. They just sit there in their comfortable chairs or stand around and poke me with needles while preaching to me about looking for the light in the dark.

They don't get it. They're lucky enough to not understand this pain, and they'll never have to. Almost every other Maze I've seen has more than one person left. There are entire friend groups that can depend on each other. And me? I'm sleeping in a room with completely unoccupied beds.

There's nothing left for me. There's nothing to live for. Nothing.

They're so stupid for giving shaving razors out. First of all, I've gone my entire life without it. Hair isn't going to magically bother me now. Next and more importantly, even the people with their friends are severely traumatized from what they've seen. Giving any of us a weapon is basically begging for something to happen

And something will. Something has been for three nights now. The razor I hid and took apart has a new purpose.

Sitting on my bed, I stared at the growing marks. Already, I was running out of room. My arms are constantly sore now. Just raising them to do something mundane like eat or get dressed makes them sting. My sleeves snag on them, practically forcing them open.

I don't stop though. I don't want to. I don't want to do it, but there doesn't seem a point in even trying not to. Nobody's looking out for me anymore. There's nobody left to care.

Taking a breath to prevent my hands from shaking, I raised the metal to my wrist. By now it wasn't as sharp as when I first started, but it still has the same purpose. Numb the mental pain and punish myself in an attempt to rid my head of overwhelming survivors' guilt. If I do this enough, maybe I can bleed it all out. It would be a ritualistic trade. My flesh and blood for the possibility of freedom from what this lifetime has brought me.

I found one of the few untouched places and placed my blade there, almost testing the waters. Right as I was about to leave another mark, there was a sharp audible gasp, making me drop it as I jumped. Nobody's supposed to be here. This room is almost all vacant. Every bed but mine is empty. Nobody should know. Nobody.

I would think I was imagining it, that the dark feelings were making me crazy, if the hairs on the back of my neck weren't standing on full attention. My body shuddered as I was overcome with the urge to hide, as if someone was watching me.

Slowly, I scanned the plain room, looking for something. I don't know what. I don't think there's anything to look for, but I also didn't think that I was being watched until two seconds ago.

There was nobody. Not a soul but me. The breeze from the vent above me was the only thing I had left as company.

"I wouldn't do that. If I were you."

Guilt makes you do a lot of things. It makes you forget how to sleep. It makes you hate the thought of eating. It makes you hurt yourself.

It doesn't make you hear a random guy's voice.