Losing Hope

Eight

A few people came in to get small injuries cleaned that day, and every time they did, Jeff came to get me and let me take care of them, under his close watch. I was doing pretty great until the sick boy started screaming. And by screaming, I don't mean screaming like he had been doing the whole afternoon. I mean screaming like he was trying to wake someone from the dead.

Jeff looked at me with wide eyes, before standing up and quickly running over to his room. I looked at the Glader I was taking care of. He stared at me, then at his slightly sliced leg. I shook my head trying to focus on the boy's injury, but the yelling was so intense, curiosity took the best of me. I quickly finished bandaging up the boy, telling him he'd be fine, before running to the stung boy's room.

The door was opened, but I stopped in the doorway. Inside, Alby, Jeff and Clint were trying to hold down the boy, who was kicking and flailing his arms around, all while screaming, stopping only to take small breaths. I was about to walk in and join them when he suddenly fell silent, his arms and legs falling flat on the bed. He was perfectly still, as if nothing had happened.

The three other boys stood there, all holding down different parts of his body, looking down at him then at each other. Alby was the first one to straighten up. He walked over to the boys head, and slowly placed two fingers on his neck. His shoulders fell down and he lowered his head. The two Med-Jacks looked at each others, and Clint, who was the one facing me, shared a look with me.

Alby lifted his head, looking at the two boys, one after the other. "He's dead. Go get the Baggers," he said, before turning around and noticing me in the doorway. I must've looked very shocked, because he gave me a sympathetic look. Walking over to me, he placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Get used to it, Shank. Happens every once in a while," he said, before walking past me. I stared at the boy's immobile body, as the Med-Jacks cleared things around him. Jeff walked past me, telling me that my day was off, before walking out of the Homestead.

I couldn't tear my eyes off Jack's lifeless body. Jack, I repeated in my mind. Probably a friend of at least one of the boys in the Glade. I tried to imagine what it would feel like if it was Minho or Newt, then immediately shook the thought away. I didn't want to imagine that.

I watched as the Baggers came to get Jack's body, deciding that this was definitely not a job I wanted. I went up to my room after they were done, up until dinner. I couldn't walk around alone, with nothing to do. Not under the glare of the boys who might think I was the reason for Jack's death.

Once the doors were closed, I walked over to the kitchens, trying to find Minho, but he and Newt were nowhere to be seen. I decided not to sit near the Deadheads this time, so I took a seat on one of the tables in the corner, facing the Runner's hut, in case Minho would come out.

After a long and boring dinner during which I didn't eat a lot and the boys seemed to all take their turns to stare at me, Minho, Newt and Alby - who I hadn't notice was missing - came out of the hut. Alby walked in front of the two others. Minho's eyes scanned the dining area and quickly found me. He shot me a slight smirk. I had a small smile too, until I looked at Newt. He was staring down at his feet, head hung low, looking miserable. I felt my heart break a little, but my attention was quickly brought back to Alby.

"Listen up, Shanks. As you might know, Jack died from the Griever attack that happened yesterday afternoon. We're going to bury him, because every Shank in here deserves to be buried if anything happens to them. So everyone get to the Deadheads, now," he spoke, and every boy stood up and followed him and Newt towards the Deadheads.

I waited a bit before getting up and following the boys, not really wanting to be in the front row to see that. Minho joined me in the back.

"Hey Greenie. How are you feeling? Alby told us you saw the whole thing," he said, and I shrugged, avoiding his glare.

"I'm okay, I guess. At least I'm not the one who had to hold him down," I mumbled, and I felt Minho's arm wrap around my shoulders. I looked up at him and smiled weakly.

"You don't blame yourself, do you?" He asked, and I shook my head.

"Not really. I mean, I did think about it, but I can't find a reason why it would be my fault," I explained, and he nodded.

"Good that."

The crowd started to expand in a sort of half circle, and Minho and I managed to get closer without being in front. The fact that he kept his arm around me brought me comfort, along with the fact that he didn't believe I was responsible for Jack's death.

I caught a glimpse of what was going in front of us. Alby, Newt and the Baggers were standing around a not so deep hole, digged in the dirt, kind of far into the Deadheads. There was a long, white bag next to the hole, and I assumed it was Jack's body. The darkness of the forest made the whole thing a lot creepier than it should've been.

Alby and Newt moved to get on one side of the hole, as two other Gladers took their sides to hold up the bag. They threw the body into the hole, then started digging back into the pile of the dirt and throwing it over the body to bury him. No one was speaking. All we could hear was the sound of the shovels cutting through the dirt and the sound of it hitting the fabric of the bag.

My eyes fell on Newt, who was staring at the hole with dark eyes. As if he felt my eyes on him, his head shot up, and he looked at me directly in the eyes. I caught a bit of sadness, but what hit me the most was that the little flicker of humor his eyes seemed to hold ever since I had met him was gone.

I offered him a sad smile, but he looked away from me and back down at the hole. Sighing, I took my eyes away from the scene, looking down at my feet, before leaning my head into Minho's chest. He gave a light squeeze to my shoulder and held me tighter, very quietly asking me if I was okay. I nodded in his chest, closing my eyes to try and steady my breathing. This was definitely not the kind of thing I expected when I showed up in that Box.
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Okay I know the gif isn't 100% accurate but it's the best I could do. Love you all!
~Laue