The Maze Runner With The Crazy & Lovely Girl: Emily

Why?

12 AN: Well I really don't have any comment for this chapter... yeah. Just enjoy it:

Emily's P.O.V.

It's been a while since we had the Gathering, and everything went back to normal pretty quickly. I still believe that I don't need any sort of special treatment. I don't get why they're acting this shucked up.

But that's not the most shucked up part. Newt has been acting quite weird lately. He has been running the Maze every day, not taking a single break. Although I have run with him for a long time, he has never shown anger or any of those dark emotions. Not until these past weeks.

Newt is known to be calm and laid back, which is why it's so out of his character to be angry. This red color does not look good on him. Additionally, he has been less talkative and become distant with us all. I really do not like this side of Newt.

How can someone so kind and nice be yelling at us? We have all been trying to talk to him, but he just won't listen. Maybe I'll figure a way for him to talk after our run today? I surely hope so, because I've lost one friend already. I can't lose another one.

"Come on shanks!" Minho yelled at Newt and me.

"Coming, shuckface!" I yelled back but continued to walk at the same pace as this Brit. "Newt, what's going on?"

"Nothing." He mumbled, avoiding eye contact. Why was he acting so shy all of a sudden? Usually, he would roll his eyes at these questions, but now he's acting totally different.

Bipolar much?

Minho did not hold back when we eventually reached him, "Finally! Jeez, you guys are a bunch of shucking slowpokes."

"What got you so hyper today, shank?" I said, looking at how he shrugged his shoulders.

And that was the last thing that was said before all three of us started to run. Although we waste our breaths by talking, Minho and I couldn't help but chat and throw sarcastic comments at each other. It wasn't before we separated that our conversation came to an end.

However, as soon as we went our own way, there was this awful feeling chewing inside my stomach — the same feeling when I arrived from my run the day George died. The feeling continued to grow until I could no longer bear it.

"Shuck it," I mumbled and turned around to look for the Brit. "Newt!" I called after him as I went back to his path. "Newt! Answer me goddammit!"

We hadn't run for a long time after we separated, he couldn't be that far away. Even Minho must have heard me by now.

It wasn't before I glanced up that I saw the dreadful sight that I wished was a piece of my imagery. That I wished wasn't true.

"Newt, no!" I shouted at the boy, watching in horror how the Runner climbed the ivies as far up as possible. "What the shuck are you doing, slinthead?"

Instead of answering me, he jumped.

I wanted to scream, but I couldn't get a sound to pass beyond my lips. My breath got caught in my throat, and I froze as I watched him fall, and fall, and fall.

I wanted to tear my gaze away, but I couldn't. I couldn't look away as he fell nor when his foot got caught in the ivies, twisting his limb in such a way that I wanted to throw up.

"Newt!" Finally, I broke out of the hypnosis and ran to the boy who was hanging by his foot. He was too high up, so I had to climb to get to him. "Newt, talk to me!"

"Emily? Newt? What's going on?" Minho's voice echoed, nearing the gruesome scene that would scar his mind. "What the shuck?"

His eyes met my desperate ones before they were glued on the boy who was hanging upside down.

"He jumped," I said in a shaky voice and continued to climb, getting closer to the swollen and purple foot, watching how the blood oozed out. "He shucking jumped."

Minho was empty of words. His face was blank like his wet eyes. But neither of us let our tears fall. Our first priority was Newt and to save his life. Then we could talk about what happened.

***

When we finally reached the Glade, everyone was asking questions and panicking at the sight of Newt. It wasn't before I shouted at them to stay back and shook Clint out of his shock that we were able to take care of the poor boy.

With the help of the Leader of the Medjacks, we treated Newts injuries. But his foot was our main concern. It was a deep wound that would most likely affect the rest of his life. It took us hours to make sure he was stable and breathing again.

"Is he going to be okay?" Clint finally asked as we wrapped the boy up and cleaning the bloody equipment we had used.

"He will most likely not be able to walk like he used to. And his career as a Runner is more than over. He'll survive, but I don't know if he'll be okay." I replied, looking at the blonde-haired boy who was unconscious on the bed.

"What happened out there?" Clint addressed the elephant in the room, making me close my eyes for a second as the entire thing replayed itself like a movie.

I took a deep breath. "He tried to kill himself."

"He what?" I could hear Alby's confused and hurt voice, knowing that he entered the room just as I answered Clint's question.

I turned around to face him, "You heard me. He tried to shucking kill himself, Alby."

"No, he didn't," he shook his head, denying the truth that I had presented. "He wouldn't do that to us. No. No, I refuse to believe it."

Instead of arguing, I hugged him. His arms held me tight and I felt his tears on my shirt. "I'm sorry," I whispered.

One by one, the Gladers entered the hut to visit Newt who had yet to see the pain and confusion he had caused. They all looked sorrowful, but most of all, they looked guilty.

Why hadn't we noticed anything? How could we have ignored every red flag he had put up?

It made sense why he acted so differently. How he had converted from this kind and calm person to this angry Glader.

"Why would he do such a thing?" Frypan mumbled under his breath, blinking away his tears.

"I don't know," Minho answered, shaking his head. "I have no shucking clue."

Why, Newt? Just why?