The Maze Runner With The Crazy & Lovely Girl: Emily

It Is The Same Life Whether We Spend It Crying Or Laughing

10 AN: This chapter isn't going to be so sarcastic and funny. But I need it, soooo yeah... Continue & enjoy:

Emily's P.O.V.

It's been a week since George died. Everything has changed since the day he went down. Silence has been deafening these past days. No one really talks to each other, hell, people can barely look at each other.

Despite my yearning to go inside the Maze, no one was allowed to run. Alby thought it would be better if we stayed together for a while; a way to comfort each other.

Since the funeral, it has taken a hard toll on everyone. To tell you the truth, I believe Alby is taking it the hardest. After all, he was one of the minds behind the idea.

After preparing breakfast, I sat on the counter, trying to grasp the situation for the umpteenth time. Sighing, I looked at the floor, catching the sight of dried blood on the wood. It belonged to Gally after he broke his shucking nose when he tried cooking.

Just how do you manage that? None of these shanks could cook without breaking, slicing, or hurting themselves one way or another. I even warned Minho not to try, because clearly, there is a curse in this kitchen. I'll just have to wait for a boy to break that damn curse, so I can finally have an extra hand with the food-making.

The moment I was done putting the plates of food on the table, Minho entered the Kitchen.

"Morning," he greeted, taking a seat next to me.

I gave him a small smile, "Morning."

"Have you eaten anything?" He pointed at me with his fork.

"I'm not hungry."

"That's not what I asked." His eyes were serious; not giving any room for an escape.

A sigh left my lips as I rubbed my temple, "Does it matter?"

"Yes, Emily. In fact, it does matter," Minho put down his fork, looking at me. "Listen, I know it's been difficult; it's been a tough time for all of us. But that doesn't mean that we have to stop living just because—"

"Don't," I cut him off, my voice clear as an empty sky. Slowly, I raised from my seat, "Enjoy your meal, Minho."

And just like that, I went to the Deadheads.

Since George's death, it's been difficult to get back to the old routines. I have yet to shed a tear after I learned that he no longer walked among us. And God, did I feel terrible about it.

Why is it so hard? Why can't I just cry it all out and move on? The saying "You gotta fall before you fly" is the stupidest thing I've ever heard, because I'm just falling deeper and deeper down the hole.

The hole of depression.

"Hey," a familiar voice broke my train of thoughts.

"Hey, Newt," I replied as he took a seat next to me. "How are you doing?"

"Not good."

"I feel ya."

There was a silence between us before he continued, "Minho told me that you're not eating anything."

A sigh left my lips, "I don't have the appetite."

He rubbed his face, "Neither do I, but I still eat." Slowly, he turned his head towards me, our gazes touching each other. "Try, Emily. Even if it makes you throw up, it's better than nothing."

The desperation in his eyes was clear. I had to be strong for him, even if I could not be strong for myself.

"Alright."

We walked back to the Kitchen in silence, finding the rest of the Gladers sitting on the table with plated food.

"There you are," Gally spoke, acknowledging our arrival before the rest could.

Minho scooted to make room for me to sit, smiling as he held up his fork of food, "Emily, would you like to try some bacon?"

"Shuck no. Do you even know me?" I leaned away from the piece of meat, disgusted by its smell and looks.

A gleam crawled up to Alby's and Newt's faces, a reaction I found joy in seeing. The taste of smiles had almost felt foreign.

"She is never going to eat bacon in her life, Minho. It's hopeless to even ask about it," the Leader of the Glade explained scarcely, an amused smile tracing his lips rather than the sad one.

"Yeah, thanks to you, shuckface," I threw the piece of bacon at him, dirtying his white t-shirt.

A round of low chuckles filled the room before the silence moved in once more.

"Alright, guys. We need to get back to work. There are lots of things that need to be done," Alby stood up, clearing his voice as we all nodded to his words. "Good that."

"Just go ahead, we will be right behind you," Minho suddenly blocked my way, waving the Gladers away.

"Any reason why you're holding us back from work?" I crossed my arms, leaning on the table.

Without a warning, he attacked me in a hug, holding me as tightly as I held him.

"It's gonna be alright, Em. We are here for you; all of us. I didn't mean any harm with my words, it's just that I can't..." His words faded away, "I just can't lose you too." Before I could have the chance to muster up some kind words to return to him, he ended the entire speech with: "So, stop being a klunk and be the shuckiest shuckface that I know you are."

I smiled, "You're such a shank, you know that, right?"

"Says the slinthead."

Whatever this was, it was exactly what I needed. Whether that be the taste of some humor or a hug, it felt good. Although Minho isn't the sharpest knife when it comes to words, he had his way to comfort people.

Or at least me.