A Glimmer Of Hope // (Minho) - DISCONTINUED

Chapter 5: Minho's Snores, Climbing, Crying, and Awkward Situations

(The Golden Trio of TMR! Does it look bad? I made it myself.)

✨Hope POV✨

The next day, I woke up to Minho's excessive snoring. I mentally cursed him. It was barely light out!

Shaking my head, I stood up. Right away, my back seemed to complain. It screamed out in pain, just like everything else in my body. I groaned loudly, then slapped a hand over my mouth. I looked over to where Minho was still snoring. I rolled my eyes. Looks like I'm dealing with a heavy sleeper.

And when I say heavy, I mean seriously heavy because I groaned really loud.

I pushed my arms in a punching-like motion, and it resulted in my elbows cracking. (BTW: This is something I can do. I don't know if it's bad, but it feels good.) I cracked my knuckles, and my back as well. I somehow managed to crack my toes and even my legs, but it all felt good. Cracking my neck felt better though. I sighed in content.

I went over to a small mirror. Looking myself, I felt disgusted. My hair was sticking in different directions. Some clumps of hair were even sticking straight up in the air! It was so pointy, it looked like it could poke someone's eye out with ease! My eyes had slight bags under it, but, then again, I did sleep late last night. My skin was almost a sickly white. I put my hand up to my mouth, lightly exhaled, and sniffed. I instantly recoiled. My breath stunk like the dead carcass of a skunk lightly battered with the yolks of uncooked, rotten eggs, wrapped in bad meat and moldy bread, and heavily showered with sour milk. That's how bad it was!

I sniffed my armpit, but it smelled neutral. Thank the Gods! I combed my hands through my hair in an attempt to tame it. I went into the bathrooms outside, and splashed my face with water. It felt good, and it even returned the color to my cheeks. I also changed into the clothes that I wore the other day.

I walked back out. It was dark, but the sun had begun to rise. No one had come out. Everything was still. Nothing moved. Nothing spoke. Not even a breeze came by.

It was peaceful.

I started to head to the Deadheads. As I entered the forest, it was unnaturally quiet. I went around, looking for something interesting.

After a few minutes of finding nothing, I started to climb a tree.

As I climbed higher and higher, I was careful to dodge the branches that would hit my stomach, furthering damage to my already bad injury.

Once I reached the top, I sat on a branch I was sure could hold my weight. Since it was a tall tree, almost reaching seventeen feet, I could see above the Glade, but it was not tall enough to see over the walls.

Slowly, my breathing started to shallow. My eyes were becoming a bit droopy. I yawned.

'Oh come on! Now is not the time to fall----' Too late.

My head fell onto a branch right in front of me. My arm covered my forehead.

The last thing I saw was the ground below me, before I only saw black.

----------some hours later----------

"HOPE!" I jumped up, startled.

"HOPE!" A different voice called out. I looked around. Then everything came back. Me waking up. Going out into the forest. Seeing myself for the first time since I got here (which was disturbing, by the way). Minho's loud snoring (that could even wake up the heaviest sleeper in existence, but might not work since he probably is the heaviest sleeper in existence).

"HOOOOOOOOOOPPPPPPPEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!" The same voice yelled. I answered this time.

"What?!" I yelled back. A whole lot of footsteps came rushing towards me. They stopped under the tree I was on. The group consisted of Minho, Thomas, Newt, Alby, and some other African-American dude I don't know.