SOJOURNER (III): tmr gally

21: I should use scissors

Leo 21

"I remember you," it's all Ella offers.

She's stumbling and swaying on her feet. I didn't believe Sonya, when she came running over, and said that Ella was on the surface. I didn't believe she had it in her to break her way up top, nor did I think she had the ability to stand, albeit barely, and accuse Teresa of God knows what.

Ella falls to the ground. Her body writhes, and spit flies out her mouth.

Another seizure.

Girls are moving in all around her, yelling and panicking. Marie was the closest, though she failed to catch Ella as she fell to the ground. I try to break through and get to Ella, though Michelle grabs me. She pulls me away from the crowd, turning to face me.

"Run!" She tells me. I try to shrug off my backpack, but she pulls the straps back on my shoulder.

"I need to help Ella." I try to push my way past her, but she is and has always been, too strong for me.

"You can't," Michelle's voice is firm. Her eyes are steady, her mouth pressed into a tight line. "You won't be able to slip away again. She's fine. You need to go."

She shoves me backwards firmly. My feet slip beneath me, but I catch myself on the wall. I turn around to face Michelle, but she shoos me off once more.

Ella has epilepsy. The way to get her through a seizure is to wait for it to end, then help her afterwards. Ensure she isn't concussed and bandage any place she is cut open. You have to remain calm, and kind, and helpful.

Anyone can do that. They don't need me for her.

I run away. Barrelling down the corridor before anyone can see me. I round down the side, stopping to pant for a just a second before I continue sprinting. No idea where I'm going, or where Dawn is, or Newt, or anyone else.

Next time I see Michelle, I need to thank her. She's putting herself at risk, letting me go. This is her way of apologizing, and I forgive her. Honestly, I doubt I could've stayed mad for longer than five minutes.

I duck out into the sun. It's still early in the morning, so the sun is rising. I don't see any Cranks hanging around, not that it matters. I don't have a weapon.

As I sprint, I knock over a garbage can. I pause, moving back to it. There is only rotting food inside. I need a weapon, which I never thought I'd hear myself say, and yet here we are.

I continue moving until I am in the centre of the road. Down either side are buildings. Beneath the sand, which shuffles in the light wind, there is a harsh concrete road hiding. I'm already sweating, and dawn has barely broken. I shudder as I look at the abandoned buildings as if I expect any of them to collapse at any moment, or for a hoard of Cranks to come running out of them.

Funny how the Grievers have easily replaced the Cranks as a threat. Like, I'm so used to running that it is a natural instinct. By funny, I mean anything but funny. If anything, I mean how cruel.

I hear a sound, and my hand flies to my waist. The only thing I have is a pair of scissors, which make me nervous to hold. Not that I don't like blood, but it's unsettling that these scissors help me heal people and are also a weapon. Honestly, I much preferred the bat I had in the Maze. The bat felt less dangerous, which was part of its appeal.

Here, it doesn't really matter which appeals to my sensibilities. I take the scissors out of my belt, holding them in my hand.

The last I heard of Dawn, Michelle had seen her in a building that had collapsed. That's further back then where I am now, but that was also days ago. Every second out here feels like a decade, which I guess is no different than the Maze. We've only been gone nine days, and this is what we've come to. Already, I've succumbed to the violence.