Aphonic {TMR;Newt}

[13%]

I was confused at first why the metal slab was labeled, 'The Box'. Then again, I have never seen one enter the Glade from it. When I placed myself beside Newt, wedging myself between the stiff boarded bodies of boys like a fish upriver, I was able to see the platform pull apart, severing into two tectonic plates.

I was amazed, trying to get a birds-eye view of what was scuffling down below. Underneath the mesh hatch that separated us between The Box and us, was a boy. I couldn't draw out what he looked like yet since he was shielding his eyes from the sun that spilled inside. He was trying to figure us out as much as we 're trying to figure out him.

But when I looked up to witness others reactions, they were all chuckling. Musing like this was the best joke they had heard all month. They snapped out wisecracks as two boys pulled open the mesh hatch which gave me a more defined glimpse of who this boy was. He had dark dun brown hair that fixed flat against his forehead, pressing to his temples from his uncontrolled stress sweat. His eyes were immense enough where I could see the color of them. Nearly the same as his hair.

"Go get em'," Alby ordered, motioning to Gally. Without hesitation Gally dropped down into the cubical, causing for it to shake and jeer at the change of weight. He hunched over his face, the boy pressing his back against the wall to create distance.

"Day one Greenie. Rise and shine." He grabbed the front of his shirt, yanking him to his feet. I felt sympathy for him as he was thrown to the ground on accident since others failed to catch him. His head landed near my feet as he was greeted by the comfort of rough dust powdering his clothes. Like birds flocking, the Glader's swarmed him.

Frypan let out a maniacal laugh as the fiasco begun.

"Looks like a Slopper to me!"

"I think he just klunked his pants!"

"How old is he?"

He rolled over to his back, eyes frantically darting across all of our faces as we loomed over him.

"I could always use some more help in the kitchen!"

"Ain't no ticket back, bro."

I could sense his overwhelming, blistering panic as he began to scramble to his feet. He plowed through the crowd, pushing bodies out of his way. He was making a run for it, clearing the pastures.

"We got a Runner!" Zart howled.

I, not wanting to be associated with them or to be labeled amongst this hoard of idiots, stepped away from them. I took a few steps forward, wondering if I should go after him to attempt to calm his nerves. Even though, I don't think that would be needed. His own feet betrayed him, tripping over the toes of his shoe and doing an unplanned summer-salt as the ground served as his mat.

Of course, everyone erupted in laughter as he face planted. I couldn't help but grimace. I considered I was being a buzzkill, not joining in on the fun, but I couldn't bring myself to think someone's fear was funny. Then again I might be overthinking.

"Hey, sis! Where you goin'!?"

"Mama Prim's on the job!"

Ignoring the blithering calls of morons, I marched the fifty yards that boy must have run to get him on his feet. This is what I meant when I mentioned real teenage boys. They just couldn't help themselves.

He was on his stomach, his torso propped up with his hands as his eyes landed incredulity on the walls ahead. I bent down, reaching to touch his shoulders. As soon as my fingers brushed against the fabric of his shirt, he shot to his feet, staring me down with his eyes raving.