Nepenthe (TMR FF) UNDER EDITING

Chapter 13

"Emma!" Gally called, making my head turn towards the middle of the Glade where 'the box' was situated. A new Greenie had just arrived, and like always, everyone—but me—was surrounding the poor kid. Everyone cleared a small path so that Gally, who was at the front, could be seen by me. He looked desperate and annoyed at the same time. "Can you please come get this shank outta here?"

I rolled my eyes playfully, before jogging over to the group of boys. They all nodded or muttered a hi when I passed them. I smiled in response, making my way to the front. I eventually found myself standing next to Gally, who was staring down into the box. I followed his gaze to find Newt sitting cross legged on the metal ground, watching a young boy cautiously. He was kind of chubby, and looked to be around twelve years old. He must have been the youngest Greenie yet, and that automatically triggered my protective instinct.

"Come on, Greenie. Stop crying." Newt told the boy, trying his best to be as nice as possible, but failing completely. I rolled my eyes, before jumping down into the box with him. Newt's eyes lit up when he saw me, and the boy stared at me with wide eyes. He had tears streaming down his red cheeks, and his sobs echoed around us.

"Okay Newt, I can take over from here." I smiled, nodding upwards; gesturing for him to leave us alone. He smiled in gratitude, walking over to me and kissing my cheek before hauling himself out of the box. I turned my attention towards the boy, noting how he watched Newt leave, his eyes wide open. I laughed quietly to myself and sat down, my back leaning against one of the walls of the box.

"You okay?" I asked softly, a small smile directed to the boy. He turned towards me, his bottom lip trembling. He quickly brought his hands up and wiped his eyes, giving me a weak shrug. I looked down, an angry sigh escaping my lips. I wasn't angry at the boy, however. I was angry at the creators; the stupid, inconsiderate idiots who sent a twelve year old boy to an inescapable and possibly dangerous place. He must have family and friends who miss him. How could someone do that to a kid?

"Where am I? Why am I here?" He whispered, his eyes continuing to water. He had somehow managed to get his sobs under control, which I was grateful for. I hated seeing people cry; especially little kids.

"We call it the Glade and I'm sorry, but none of us know why we're here." I told him honestly, giving him a weak smile. He nodded, his eyebrows scrunched. "Do you remember anything? You're name?" I asked softly.

"Chuck." He told me, frowning. "That's the only thing I can remember."

I nodded, holding my hand out for him to shake.

"I'm Emma. It's nice to meet you, Chuck." I told him. He stared at me for a moment, as if contemplating whether or not to trust me. Eventually, he took my hand, and I squeezed it in reassurance.

"It's nice to meet you too." He whispered, glancing upwards towards the staring boys. I laughed at his terrified face as he quickly looked away, dropping my hand.

"Don't mind them. They're just a bunch of shanks. I swear they're real nice." I tried to reassure him. He raised his eyebrows, not really believing me.

"I don't know...That British guy wasn't very nice." Newt scoffed from somewhere above us and everyone started to laugh, including me.

"He's a sweetheart, trust me. He tries to be intimidating, but he couldn't even hurt a fly." I laughed, looking up to meet eyes with the Brit. Newt glared at me playfully, poking his tongue out. I did the same, before turning back to Chuck.

"I don't like his accent." Chuck admitted, making a disgusted face. Gally snorted, throwing his head back in laughter. I smirked, nodding towards the young boy.