Newt imagines 2

Midnight Adrenaline

So this is the 3rd part to one of my stories I wrote yonks ago. Also I've just started another book for random imagines cause I've been writing some lately and it's a shame to put them to waste, check it out if you want, it's only got one part so far but feel free to request your own imagines :)

I pulled my knees close to my chest and sighed as i setted the book, pages down, onto the wooden sill where i sat. Outside the dark, peaceful night was being burnt away, screaming in the fires flames. It was the third bonfire this week, the 'new' gladers were becoming obsessed with them. They gave up working in the day, resorting they're time to sleeping, or chatting about last nights bonfire and how good tomorrows would be. Leaving those they deamed lesser to slave in the gardens or kitchen or bathrooms; they would purposely pee all over the floor just to make the sloppers lives misery.

I looked to the mounds of mud that flickered images of the flames like a projector screen. I gulped knowing that either side of those mounds slept my helpless friends, bound and hurt in the new pits that had been dug. I turned to look at my own door, it was hardly visible in my small room, the only light the torch I clasped between my fingers. I wanted to say I understood my friend's pain, but I knew they would scoff at me, yell at me for calling this a prison.
I didn't have a bucket to excrete in like them, I didn't have one morsal meal a day and I didn't freeze outside with only a blacket between me and soggy mud at night.

But what I did have was boys pounding at my door, telling me through the wood all the things they would do to me the moment I could call their names out loud. My finger tip brushed against the soft padding, the plastic brace intersecting them regularly. My neck, still sore and swollen from Minhos brutal and unjust attck had left me mute the past few weeks. I spent an hour every few days with Jeff going through vocal exercises, but it was just a series of bizarre noises and tears. Jeff wasn't sympathetic as he once was either, he would watch me cry over the agony as i tried to say my name for the one hundredth time. He was one of the ones who had only taken to mentally rebelling against the new rule, but didn't have the courage to make a formal stand too afraid of the new pits.

I tisted my body to watch the small group who hated the new rule like me, they lay in their hammocks bundled together for safety. They didn't speak, only stared up at the sky above too afraid to sleep and too afriad to talk. Many of them were old keepers who had been replaced with gladers that James could trust.

The door clicked, and opened, in walked James looking more stressed and grumpy than normal. He shrugged off his denim jacket, it was fluffy on the inside - he had lent it to me many a time when he would take me outside late at night, it was an incredibly warm coat. Then he pulled off his grey top, throwing both over a chair, he laid himself on the bed, repostioning a pillow to comfort his head. He watched me as I watched him from my new favourite seating spot. "Hi." He stated.
I looked back out to the window, ignoring him as he fiddled with his cracked nails, I could hear them snapping as he broke parts off. "What you been reading?" He asked, running a hand down his abs, as if to remind himself he still had them.... or maybe it was to remind me.
I folded the corner of the page and held up the book so he could read the title. He frowned and gestured for me to bring it closer, I did as told, perching on the other end of the bed to him. He shrugged clearly not having read a book since he arrived here.

I sat up straighter, now seemed like a good time to ask. I opened my mouth a small high pitched grunt coming out. My throat felt like I had a horrible cold, my chest burned at the inflamed skin was stretched. "I..." It was all I could manage to croak out.
James sat up straighter. "Don't try to talk." His eyes softened as he saw my obvious pain, the tears that formed in the corner of my eyes. He looked at the brace reaching out for the clasp. I snapped my head back, and pushed his arm away, his muscles still feeling like solid iron. His eyes sharpened, and I thought for a brief moment he might rip it off me just to see the bruising. "I got you a present." He said, reaching over the edge of the bed. He pulled out a long strip of white, shiny plastic and a pen. It was a makeshift whiteboard, I took it, and bit my lip, this was my first chance to express all my built up anger, ask all the questions I had buzzing round in my head... what would I ask first?
I began to scribble. James leant over watching me. "Seriously the first thing you have to say is that?"
I nodded holding the sign up to him. He rolled his. "Fine you can have another book." I smiled and used my finger to clear up the board... what next? He decided for me. "That's not what you were going to go through that pain to ask." He said, moving closer to me, I could smell the smoke on him and the rancid drinks they drunk. I wanted to take this pen and drive it into his throat.... but of course he only trusted me to have one with a soft knib, that at the worst could only colour him in black. I contemplated smashing the board into the back of his head and running for the door, but all he had to do was shout and the hallway would fill with builders ready to recapture me.
I began to write, holding up the sign when I was done.
He frowned, his jaw muscles tensing in annoyance. "I made you a builder. Why the klunk would you want to be a medjack?!"
I rolled my eyes thinking it was fairly obvious. I took a deep breath, my heart pounding against my ribs. How would he react to this?
I scribbled down one word, the word that would change my life.