Trapped: A Maze Runner Fanfic // Gally

Chapter IV: Greenie's Big Debut

        Gazing up at the starry sky, you realize you’ve been walking aside Newt for hours. Though he comes off as alright, you cannot let yourself trust anyone, especially Gally. Being the only girl puts a bullseye on your back. The gnawing voice in the back of your head speaks up once again. ‘If you begin to trust them, any of them, they’ll sense your vulnerability, and they’ll take you.’ But how are you supposed to coexist with people you don’t trust? The sound of your stomach grumbling breaks you from your internal struggle, and you notice how hungry you are.

        You follow the British boy to what must be the kitchen. Behind a wooden counter stands a Glader you decide is the cook, slopping out spoonfuls of what vaguely resembles meat for each awaiting boy. Newt leaves you to converse elsewhere, so you join the line for grub, anxiously awaiting your share. Behind you comes a voice, making you jump a little.

“Hey there greenie. Ready for your big debut?” It’s Gally. He has a smirk on his face and a plate in his hand. “Why so nervous? Did I scare you?” He leans closer, whispering the last sentence directly into your ear. The hairs on the back of your neck prickle. Tensing up, you remember the weapon in your pocket. You retaliate.

“Why were you guarding the med-jack door today? Worried I’m gonna wreak havoc on the Glade?”

“Worried you’re gonna do something you regret. A little greenbean like yourself couldn’t wreak havoc if she tried.”

You smile. “I guess you haven’t seen me try then.” His cocky smirk dissolves. Nearby Gladers listening in laugh, and Gally’s ears light up pink. Not even bothering to look back, you receive your share of food and decide to find Newt. Instead, you run into a boy you don’t recognize.

“Whoa, sorry about that. I didn’t see you th-“ He begins.

“Thomas! Come on, let’s sit! I’m starving to death waiting for you.” Chuck beckons the boy to come over.

“I’m Thomas,” the boy says, smiling at you. He has black hair and blue eyes, hair and clothes not nearly as messy as the others. He turns to sit with Chuck, and for the first time that day, you find a bit of comfort in knowing you’re not the only new arrival.

            You walk over to the dining area; a blazing fire surrounded by logs. Embers whiz around your head, and the warmth of the flame feels good against the chilly night air. You watch as Gladers toss stick after stick into the fire. At the tip of the growing blaze is an animal skull atop a stake. A group of boys begins to beat on handmade drums, filling the night with a rhythmic beat. You sit down and close your eyes, taking in the crisp night air. You stare into the flame, your mind wandering to another dimension. So many unanswered questions. ‘What did I leave behind at home?’ ‘Why am I special?’ You sigh deeply, digging into your meal. You feel the log shift as someone sits down next to you. It’s Newt. He hands you a mug with a strange brown liquid inside.

“What’s that?” You ask, squinting down at the odd brew.

He smiles weakly. “Something to erase the pain of today.”

“You’re downright stupid if you think I’m gonna let you drug me.”

“More for me then.” He takes a swig, gulping hard. On impulse, you grab the mug back and take a drink, wincing as it burns your throat.

“Christ. What is that?” Warmth spreads through your being, relaxing your mind.

“Honestly, I don’t know. It’s Gally’s special recipe.” Out of nowhere, your head begins to throb, sharp pains emitting from every inch of your body. Your fall off your log, dropping your meal. Newt immediately leans over you.

“What’s wrong? What hurts?” After a minute or so, you sit up suddenly, your pain completely gone.

“Y/n.” You murmur.

“What?” Newt furrows his eyebrows.

“My name… is y/n.” It brings you relief to know your own name, even if it’s the only thing you remember about yourself.

Newt exhales a sigh. “Well, y/n, you almost gave me a bloody heart attack.”

The fire begins to die down, and everyone heads back to the Homestead. 

“Where am I supposed to sleep?” Newt’s crazy if he thinks you’re sleeping anywhere near the other Gladers.

“You can have the med-jack. Come on, I’ll walk you over.” Newt offers.

“I can find my way. Goodnight, Newt.” You head towards the small building, sleep already dragging you down. Once inside, you make sure you’re completely alone before pushing a couple chairs over to the door, creating a blockade. You climb onto the wooden bed, pulling a ratty blanket over your body. Your eyelids close as soon as your head hits the framework; the privilege of sleep washing over you.