Just Breathe

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Authors note: so hey!! I'm still continuing my other TMR story but I had an idea I couldn't shake and just wanted to write it out. I found it didn't really fit with my main story but it is kinda fun so here you go I guess?? Also this story kinda jumps right into the action cause I suck at intros sooo ya hope you enjoy :)

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"Don't patronize me for doing something you were too scared to do!" I yell at Newt. He flinches at my harsh words, but I don't care. He's been yelling at me all day, now I'm returning the favour.

"Grievers are bloody dangerous Marie! Just because Minho says its ok doesn't mean you can just go running around in the shucking Maze whenever you please! You could've died!" There he goes with that condescending tone again. It's pissing me off.

"I am not a child, Newt. I can take care of myself," I scowl at him. He scowls back.

"Really? 'Cause I'm not so sure anymore," he snaps. I scoff at him.

"And why not?" I say sarcastically, crossing my arms.

"You act like a shucking idiot that's why!" He snaps at me. "You're not even a real Runner yet, Alby made that clear. You're not allowed in the Maze. I don't give a rat's ass what Minho says. He's not in charge for a reason. It's Alby and I that are in charge here. And if we shucking say not to do something, then you don't shucking do it!"

"Stop treating me like a baby! Minho told me what you said to Alby. You said you didn't want me running the Maze because I couldn't handle it. Well guess what? I can handle it and nothing you say is going to stop me anymore!" I whirl around and storm away from him. As far as I'm concerned this conversation is over.

I get about three steps away when I feel Newt grab my arm, forcing me to face him. His brown eyes are still alight with anger.

"You just enjoy pissing me off don't you? There was no reason for you to go out there, and you bloody went anyway. Is this whole thing a shucking joke to you?" He's still gripping my arm, forcing me to face him, his face inches from mine. I should probably be scared, he is second-in-command, but his words are making me want to rip him to shreds. I yank my arm from his hand and stick my face closer to his.

"You want to know why I went into the shucking Maze, asshat? Minho found a dead Griever and he needed someone to help him check it out. All your other Runners were too chicken to go with him, so I stepped up. You know some of us want to actually find a way out of here and not be stuck in the same hellhole until we die," My reason seems to only piss him off more, if that was even possible.

"We have enough Runners already! They don't need you out there screwing things up!" He screams. I flinch this time.

"Wow thanks, glad to know you think I'm a screw up," I growl, "You're not only an idiot, you're also oblivious. You won't accept the fact that the Runners can't do this on their own. I mean hell, the Maze probably isn't even solvable at all! But no, you're perfectly happy to just around sit here and do nothing like Alby. I'm sick of it. You refuse to fight, which means you're ready to just sit here and watch you friends die," I spit. Newt still looks angry, but now he's almost got a touch of sadness in his eyes.

"Don't do this," he murmurs. I shake my head.

"I'm so done with your bullshit. With everyone's bullshit. If you won't fight for your life, I'll just do it for you. I'm getting us out of here whether you like it or not, and that's a promise," I storm out of the Gathering room quickly this time, so Newt doesn't have the chance to grab me back.

I stomp up the creaky stairs all the way up to my room, flinging the door open and marching inside. I close it softly behind me, the loud noises I've been making suddenly becoming overwhelming. I lean my back against the door and sink down to the floor, letting the tears I've been choking back fall freely. I hate fighting with Newt, but he's been such a jerk lately. I wanted to be a Runner. I passed all of Minho's tests, even had Alby on my side, but Newt refused to let me. And Alby never crosses Newt for some reason, even if he's wrong.

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