ADRONITIS (II) : tmr minho

14: I could be Secretive

Dawn 14

We are running from Grievers, Minho and I. Sprinting as fast as we can through the Maze, inches from the Doors which are shutting. There grey rock scrapes across the ground, causing the entire earth to crumble, and my own very heart to erupt into chaos. I make it through, my arms scraping through the gap, and turn around to see him. A Griever catches up to Minho, half a meter to freedom, and he is ripped backwards. His body, ripped in half. Torn into shreds, as if he were as thick as paper. I am screaming. This is a dream, I can feel it around me. But for some reason, I can't shake the feeling that when I wake up, he'll be dead all the same.

The world is coming in and out in hues of a rainbow of colour. I wake up, still screaming. My heart is racing, and I am up on my feet.

I am in Minho's room, standing on his floor in the clothing I wore yesterday. Sweat sits on my skin, already warm from the panic coursing through my veins. Minho isn't anywhere to be found.

That's because he is dead.

The door opens and shuts. It's Michelle that has walked through the door, although I barely pay any attention to her. I can't seem to think.

"You done your crying yet?" She asks me.

I can feel tears leaking behind my eyes, although I offer no response. Minho is still dead, and I am still powerless. I feel too exhausted to cry. I still feel numb all over my body. It's not an absence, and it's not a nothing. My whole body weighs down with a dull ache. I don't know how anything could be worse. There is nothing but suffering.

"Heard you screaming," she tells me. "Clint said you'd be out for most of today due to the sedative. Nasty nightmare."

"He's dead." I say, the words making my tongue taste putrid. I turn to stare out the window. The Doors are open, nobody gathering around them. Someone needs to be waiting for him. I know it sounds crazy, but I need to see his body. This can't be the last he is gone. We were just laughing last week. We were just smiling together. It can't be over.

"Just opened now," Michelle calls out to me, seeing where I am looking. "Nothing out there, so it's not like last time at least. Nobody's running today anyway. Nobody's really doing much of anything."

I turn away from the window, dropping on to the floor. Leaning forward, I feel vomit rise in the back of my throat. I vomit all over the floor, a dark brown bile spilling out on the already brown floor.

Michelle groans, leaning forward and lifting my hair away from my face, even though part of it already is dirty.

I get up, swaying. "Don't tell Lee."

"Like I need that shank to worry," Michelle rolls her eyes. She throws my hair down, walking out of the room.

I don't know how long I stand there, kneeling above my own vomit. Staring at the mess I've made. Eventually, Michelle comes back in the room. With a wet cloth, she carelessly beats my hair, until it is clean. She pulls me away from the mess, handing me a glass of water.

"Would you just drink?" She asks.

I nod, leaning against the wall behind me. It's a struggle to raise the glass to my lips, and when I swallow I can't help but feel my stomach sink. Michelle only rolls her eyes. When I'm done, she rips the glass from my grip.

I don't know what to say anymore. Instead of talking, I walk past her and out the door. She follows me. Out Minho's door, out the Homestead, and towards the West Door. Towards where I last saw Minho. If they aren't looking for him, I'll find his body before it's old and rotten. We'll bury him. He deserves that.