Sprinter

Falling

It was decided that I would be a runner. I was happy I got the job, but I still longed to be a med-jack. It's like it called out for me. But I wasn't going to complain, things could be worse. I could be a slopper, or even dead, if I hadn't gotten that weird serum Newt told me about.

It was late at night again, about four in the morning. A perk of being a runner is that I got a watch. I was sitting on my bed turning the empty syringe over and over in my hands. A few days after I was out of the slammer, I had snuck out, went into the med-hut and stole the empty syringe and note. I don't really know why I did, I just wanted it, so I took it. I was washed over with a feeling of dashed hopes, and emptieness, then anger again, like when I first woke up inside the bloody box. Only this time around it was equaled out with my other feelings. I felt like I had so much taken away from me, things I needed to do, knowledge of what I had done, dreams, just about everything, even almost including my life.

And I blame WICKED.

Not because I need someone to blame, but because, even though I can't remember who or what they are, I just know they did it to me, and every one in the maze.

But could WICKED be all bad? The serum that saved my life was sent up in the box. Someone had to have had put it there, someone had to have wanted to see me alive. I began to cry silently, tears dripping softly down my cheeks. I felt out of place and empty, something had been done to me that makes me feel this way, I know it. Maybe it's my stolen memories? But it had to be more than that, I just don't understand why!

I wiped my face with the back of my hand and opened the note and reread it for what seemed like the hundredth time.

Insert this into her vain in her left wrist. It'll save her, and trust me, you don't want her to die.

It then accrued to me. I pulled the other note I had from out of my pillow case and read that again.

'Hope these help. Sorry but this'll have to be the last thing I help with ~E'

I then put the two notes together and compared them. The handwriting was very similar. Could it be the same person? This hadn't occurred to me before, but it did seem plausible. But who ever E was, and if she or he did help me twice, it was likely she worked for WICKED. But whether or not she, or he, did so out of kindness. Or if it's just some kind of mind fuck game WICKED is playing at.

The anger took over. I pulled down my sleeve of the long sleeved shirt, and wiped my entire face clean from tears. I quit crying, folded up the notes, and put them back into my pillowcase. I ran my hands through my hair, as I laid back on my bed. Now I was hit with exhaustion, I sighed and closed my eyes for a second. My elbows were still pointed up towards the ceiling and I felt my sleeves fall down. I opened my eyes again and went to pull my sleeves back up, when I noticed small cursive letters on the inside of my left arm, on the inside of my triceps:

if you don't live for something, you'll die for nothing

My mind cleared, and I needed to accept my reality, and decided I shouldn't waste my time like this, I had to do something productive, I sat up in my bed and looked around the dark room. Checking the time again, it was about five o'clock in the morning now. I would have to get up and get ready for the day in an hour. I knew I should get what sleep I still could, but I didn't want too, instead I stood up and stretched.

I pulled out the box I had gotten from 'E.' Looking through it, I found a clean pair of clothes and decided to put them on. It was a pair of black running shorts and a blue v-neck t-shirt. The clothes fit me perfectly, but the shorts were a little too short, they went down to mid-thigh. I shrugged there wasn't much I could do about it any way. I'd just have to live with it, and I wasn't going to run in the jeans I had been wearing. I put on my tennis shoes, that I had woken up in the box in, and tied the laces. After I finished getting dressed, I brushed my hair, then braided it back into a tight french braid, it worked well in keeping my hair out of my face while running. Once I finished, I took out the mirror and looked at my reflection, I looked tired, very tired. I wiped my eyes as I put the mirror away, then went out the door.

It was still really early in the morning, and not really anyone was up, although the sun had started to rise for the day. I decided to go for a walk through the deadheads, I just wanted to walk around in nature for a bit. I made my way towards the forested area, and went in. I walked around for a while when I came across, probably the biggest tree in the entire glade. It looked climible, so I reached one hand up to a knot, grabbed it, then grabbed another one with my free hand. I pulled myself up, and planted my feet against the tree. I grabbed another knot in each hand an pulled myself up further, I repeated this process until I reached a flat part in the tree large enough for three people to stand on or lay down. I was probably ten feet off the ground, and the tree still went up. I caught my breath then continued climbing, it was easier now that there was branches to hold onto instead of knots on the tree. At the top I could see the entire glade, it looked so peaceful from up high while everyone was still asleep.

After several minutes of looking out at the Glade, I climbed back down to that flat spot in the tree, ten feet off the ground. I sat down and leaned against a branch as I looked around. I checked my watch again, and now it was five fifty, Minho usually knocked on my door about now. I looked at the ground below me and considered climbing down.

One more minute. I told myself, as I leaned my head against the branch and my eyes slowly began to close.

I fell asleep once my eyes closed, only to wake up when a bird landed on my leg. The little thing flew away after I scared it from jolting awake. I checked my watch and only five minutes had past.

I groaned as I pulled myself up, then climbed back down the tree. I jogged to the map room, I kept my pack and knife inside there for safe keeping. After a few trips inside, I got used to how dark it was inside after the door was closed, therefore it was easy for me to make the trip down and find the lamp. I reached the bottom of the stairs, reached up with my right hand and turned on the lamp. The room flooded with light, it only took a few blinks for my eyes to adjust, but once they had I crossed the room and picked up my stuff. I had to hurry though, I had to swing by the homestead to get a lunch from Frypan.

I hooked the knife sheath through a belt loop first, then put my pack on over it, before quickly turning around and begining up the stairs. I turned off the lamp and was washed in darkness again, but I could make my way up the stairs with out it. I started running up the stairs, and had almost reached the top when the door opened. Light flooded the stairwell, surprising me as well as blinding me. I put a hand up to shield my eyes and took a step backwards, forgetting momentarily that I was on stairs. Everything slowed down as I began to fall backward, I was frantically trying to steady myself, grab something to hold on to, but there was nothing and my hands would only slide against the wall.

A hand shot out and grabbed one of my hands which was clawing at the wall to get steadied. The hand pulled me forward and back on to my feet. Although, I wasn't ready to be pulled forward and my momentum caused me to fall forward. Instead of crashing to the ground as I had expected, I crashed into a chest, and arms wrapped around me.

Before I understood what had happened, Minho's sarcastic voice cleared away my panic from falling. "Geez greenbeen you could have cracked open your klunking head!" He said, I couldn't tell, but it sounded as if it was laced with a hint of worry.

"Sorry!" I squeaked, mostly out of the shock from nearly falling down the stairs. "Maybe next time you could not startle me enough to cause me to fall to my death!"