Her

Chapter Eight

The sky was a pale pink when she awoke, and the sun was just beginning to peak up above the horizon.
In the distance, she could see Newt sitting in the middle of the field and waiting for the maze entrances to part. She walked through the tall grass and joined him.
"Hi Newt."
"Morning, Greenie."
She felt heat flow into her cheeks as she stared at him. Something was definitely different than before. This feeling that filled her stomach while at the same time made her head reel was something she knew she had never experienced, that was a fact. And facts were a very rare thing to come by in this unstable world.
"Can I ask you something?" he said now looking straight into her eyes.
"What is it?"
"Do you remember your mother?"
She stared at the ground in thought, but her earliest memory she could draw back was the one of being trapped in the metal box.
"No," she finally replied.
He sighed,
"I don't remember anything about mine. But I feel like she's looking at me when I look into my eyes. We have the same ones, I'm certain of it."
She was silent and out of things to say. The only thing she could really think of was,
"I wish I could say the same."
A loud noise vibrated throughout the Glade. The walls were separating, and it wasn't long before Newt had to leave.
The thought, or rather the fantasy, of her mother remained in her head as she worked. Life before the box seemed to be nothing but a story, a legend that everyone speaks about but never actually believes to be true. In fact, she was beginning to doubt she ever really had a name at all.
Engrossed in contemplation, the hours seemed to pass by without her noticing. The runners returned, two of them carrying one boy on both of their shoulders. Suddenly, the boy they were carrying began to thrash about and ended up escaping their grasp.
Upon closer look, she noticed a wound on his leg surrounded by black veins.
He was now running like a madman through the fields and straight towards her.
He tackled her to the ground and wrapped his hands around her neck. She quickly felt for a metal pan, the item that just so happened to be closest, and hit him square on the head with it. He fell to the ground, motionless.
The other Gladers ran over to see what the commotion was.
"Is he..." she couldn't even finish the question.
Gally pushed his way through the crowd and pressed two fingers to the boy's neck.
"He's still alive."
She released a breath of relief.
Alby walked over and questioned,
"What's going on here?"
"Hank was stung in the maze today. He tried to kill the Greenie, but she knocked him out cold." Minho said stunned.
"Get Hank to the Homestead, now. Tie him down, make sure there's someone in the room with him at all times. You, Greenie, come with me." Alby commanded.
She followed him to his workspace at the Homestead and he wrote some things down on a sheet of paper before shoving them into his desk.
"You got one shot." he said looking up at her.
"What?"
"Tomorrow, I'm sending you into the maze with the other runners. But, this is just a trial run, okay? I'm gonna have Minho evaluate your performance and tell me how you did, good that? If you do well, then I'll let you keep running the maze."
"Thank you Alby!" she said beeming.
"Think nothing of it Greenie. Still don't quite see why you want to run so bad, but anyways I suppose it's better to have someone willing to do the task."
"I'm not quite sure myself, but I know I can do this."
"Let's hope you're right, Newbie. Let's hope you're right..."
As the sun set that evening, Hank was exiled out in the maze. No one bothered checking the next morning to see if he was still there. No one ever survives a night in the maze, it was a fact. Another name was crossed off the west wall that morning.

                *Chapter Eight of Twenty-three*