ASUNDER (I) : tmr newt

50: I'm Dawning

Dawn 50 Day 16

The door creaks open, and I won't look again. My whole-body aches still. When Clint came in, he treated my body like a corpse. The bed is cold and almost like an operating table. He felt my face, pressing with his fingers lightly into my skin, as he examined my eye. He pushed against the bruises on my arms and on my legs as well. After every thirty or so seconds, he'd put the part of my body down which he was examining and tick something down on his paper. His pencil scratching against his little clipboard was the only organic sound I had heard since I talked to Michelle.

When he left the room, he shut the door. I could hear his mutters through it. My injuries were consistent with a fall, one which happened at least twelve hours ago but no more than sixteen. At some point in the middle of the night I hit the ground with great force, although he can't tell if it was grass or concrete, nor how far I fell before I hit the ground. It wasn't substantially enough for me to get a concussion, but if he were to guess I had some bruising in my wrist.

Alby didn't care about the details. He was content to know that I would not be working for three days, that my injuries were consistent with a fall at around 3:00 in the morning, and that no one else had been treated for any injuries similar to mine today.

Although, Alby was intrigued when Clint mentioned my behaviour and secretive nature was not consistent with trauma due to collision, and more consistent with that of some sort of fight. However, they couldn't prove anything.

So, when the door opens again, I am more than unwilling to answer any questions that Alby has for me. Alby and Clint combined can go shuck themselves.

Someone's weight is against my bed, and I only curl up tighter.

A thought creeps into the back of my head, and I know who is here. It is Ben, and he is here to finish what he started.

My hand flies into the drawer beside me, finishing out a scalpel as I turn around, aiming it towards his face.

I'm greeted by Minho; the blade is inches from his nose. Fingers reaching up to slowly, to find mine, I drop my hand before he can get any closer.

"Dawn," he begins.

"What are you doing here?" I ask. "It's late."

"Who did this to you?" He ignores, looking at my face. "Are you okay?"

"You will be banished if they catch you." Since when do I care about stuff like that? I think I'm just trying to get him to leave.

"I don't care if they banish me," he slides closer to me, taking the scalpel from my fingertips and putting it back in the drawer which I stole it from. "I've never cared Dawn. Who hurt you?"

"I fell off the wall, I'm sure Leo told you," I tell him.

He isn't satisfied. He looks down into his lap, his legs crossed so he can sit and face me. In the dark, it is hard to read his expression, but his jaw is soft and his eyes are creasing. "Leo thinks I hurt you. She won't talk to me."

"So that's why you came?" I demand, crossing my arms over my chest. "You want me to tell Leo you didn't hurt me?"

"I don't care what Leo thinks." He pleads with his beautiful eyes, and I try not to swoon. "Why won't you understand me?"

I can't understand him. He is confusing left and right. Despite this, I want to understand. Desperately, I crave him. I know that if I try to be with him, Ben will hurt us. Ben will hurt him and I couldn't handle that. Watching a collar forced over Minho's neck as he is shoved out the Doors would kill me. I can never watch Minho trapped behind those Maze Walls. That is my greatest nightmare. I know what those Grievers will do. I saw them up close, and I saw Stephen's body. Never could I bury Minho like we buried Stephen.