Her

Chapter Eleven

Nothing. An opaque fog filled her mind as she slept, not revealing anything about her in the slightest. All that she knew, all that she could see, was his face appearing out of the fog. His warm brown eyes cut through the thick, heavy whiteness of the air.
Maybe who we were before the maze doesn't matter.
She awoke to the same eyes releasing her from the Slammer. Newt extended a hand and helped her up onto the level ground.
"We better get started," he said as she sleepily nodded her head and followed him.
With sharp blades, they cut through animal flesh and prepared the meat for the week. It was quite the repulsive task for both, and they attempted to ignore it by talking.
"The boys that got stuck in the Blades, who were they?" she asked.
"I didn't know them well. One of their names was Alfred, the other I can't recall. Alfred had only come about two months before you."
"If something ever happened to me...would you promise me I wouldn't become just another scribble on the west wall?"
"Now why would anything ever happen to you? As long as I'm here I can promise you that won't happen. One day, we're gonna make it out of here...I'm sure of it."
Her cheeks filled with a rosy pink. The air was still until he changed the subject,
"So Gally was the bloody one that told Alby?"
"Yeah...no good lying son of a—"
"And I'm sure you told him off afterwards," he added laughing a bit.
"Well...sort of."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I started to tell him off, but then he told me something, well...interesting."
"And what would that be?"
"He said that I'm going to cause chaos."
"How so?"
"I don't know, but he did bring up that maybe the Creators put me in here so something bad would happen. What if he's right? What if that's why I'm in here?"
"C'mon, Greenie. You do realize who you're listening to right? Like I said, Gally isn't the sharpest knife in the drawer."
"Yeah, I guess."
Minho entered abruptly and asked,
"How's meat duty, shanks?
"Awful." she replied cleaning off one of the blades.
"Well, sorry I have to take your company from you. Newt, we gotta head out."
He rinsed his hands off in a bucket.
"I'll see ya later, Greenie."
"See ya."
It was mid-day when she received her lunch break. She walked to the west wall and examined the engravings.
Alfred was cut in half by a thick line running through it.
It was not long before she found Newt's name. She ran her fingers along it and felt the crevices of each letter.
He was all she ever seemed to think about. Even when she was caught up in something, the thought of him always seemed to be there in the background, like an eternal blue sky. A cloud or two would temporarily smear across it, until they'd vanish and the blue would find its way out again.
If Gally was right about his prediction, that she was only put in the maze to cause some sort of trouble, she hoped that Newt would go unharmed; that he knew of all the people here, she cared about him the most. And deep down, at the very core of her being, lied a need for her feelings to be returned.
It was close to dusk, and as she continued on with her work she yearned to go back into the maze. She always had an impulse to run, to attempt to get at least one step closer to solving it. Where this impulse originated from was uncertain, but she knew past the blurred screen the Creators had placed on her memories that it came from something important.
Was it that important if she had forgotten it?
She was startled by a sudden hand on her shoulder.
"I see you found me," Newt said staring at his name.
"What are you doing back so early?"
"One of the runners got hurt, snapped his arm right in half. We had to bring him back."
"Are you going back into the maze?"
"If Ably decides to be unusually nice, which I highly doubt, then no. Why?"
"It's nothing, I just could use some help in the Bloodhouse."
He smirked,
"Help, or company?"
She laughed,
"Well, I mean both couldn't hurt."
They heard a quick shout from a faraway Minho,
"Hey shuck-face! C'mon! We're not done yet!"
Newt turned back to her,
"Sorry, I gotta go back into the death trap."
She sighed,
"Lucky."
He shook his head and narrowed his brows,
"I will never quite understand this bloody addition you have to the maze."
She shrugged her shoulders.
"You better go, before Minho dies from his impatience."
He laughed and ran off, disappearing behind the thick walls.

              *Chapter Eleven of Twenty-three*