Defying the Glade.

Bruised but Unbroken!

The Slammer was darker than I remembered. Cold stone walls pressed in on me, the only light leaking through the narrow gaps in the bars. My arms ached from gripping them so long, my knuckles raw and red, but I couldn't stop. I couldn't sit still. The silence, the not knowing what time it was, not even the comfort of a clock ticking... it was driving me insane.

I started muttering to myself, then laughing, then shouting just to hear something other than my own thoughts.

"Tik... tok... tik... tok..." I sang in a raspy voice, banging my hands against the bars in rhythm. "The experiment worked, boys! Look at me—already losing it in this bloody cage!"

From outside, someone finally shouted, "Amelia! Shut up!" but I only sang louder, my voice cracking.

That's when Minho appeared, his shadow long and sharp across the dirt floor. He looked irritated, but under it I could see worry.
"Amelia... what the shuck are you doing? You're hurting yourself!"

I turned my head slowly toward him, my eyes wide, voice low and sharp. "I wouldn't be hurting myself if I wasn't locked in here. Or at least had a clock. Do you hear it, Minho? Tik... tok... tik... tok... I don't. AND IT'S DRIVING ME MAD!"

He cursed under his breath when he saw my hands—bleeding from where the skin split against the iron. He unlocked the cage and came inside, grabbing my wrists firmly. I tried to yank away, thrashing against him, but there was nowhere to go. My back hit the wall with a thud.

"Amelia, stop it!" he snapped, pinning my hands against the pole by the cot. "You're gonna rip yourself apart."

"Don't tie me," I pleaded, tears burning down my face as I fought him anyway. "Please, Minho... don't tie me. I can't... I can't do this."

He shut his eyes like he couldn't stand to hear me beg. His voice dropped, almost a whisper. "Don't make me bring Gally. You know he'll be rougher. I don't want to do that."

But I didn't stop. Panic clawed at me, and I lashed out again, thrashing against his grip. "Please don't get him! He scares me!"

Minho's jaw tightened. He was at his breaking point. Finally, he shoved away from me, swearing. "Fine. You asked for it."

My blood turned cold. I pressed myself against the wall, trembling as the sound of heavy footsteps echoed closer.

Gally.

The bars screeched open again, and Gally stepped in with a grin that made my stomach twist. "Well, well, looks like little Amelia needs some discipline."

I tried to fight, to claw, to push him back, but he was twice my size. He grabbed my arm, wrenching it behind my back, and shoved me against the cot. My head smacked the wood, a sting blooming across my lip as blood pooled.

"Let go of me!" I screamed, kicking out wildly. But Minho was there too, holding my other arm, his face grim, torn between duty and guilt.

"Stop fighting, Amelia," he begged. "Please. Just stop before it gets worse."

I spit blood onto the floor and glared at both of them. "Screw you! Both of you!"

Gally only laughed, shoving me harder into the cot as Minho secured the cloth around my wrists to the bedpost. My chest heaved, my heart beating so loud I swore they could both hear it.

Finally, when I couldn't fight anymore, I sagged against the pole, my wrists bound tight. Gally crouched in front of me, his face close, his eyes gleaming with cruel delight.

"See? Knew you'd break. You can act tough, but you're just another scared little Greenie." He smirked, brushing a thumb across my bloodied lip. "Don't forget who runs this place."

I turned my head sharply and spit at his boots. "Go to hell."

His grin only widened. "Maybe I already live there." With that, he stood and strode out, still chuckling.

Minho lingered, kneeling beside me. His voice was quiet, almost gentle. "You've gotta stop fighting, Amelia. I don't want to see you hurt like this. Just... behave, and this will be over sooner." He touched the cloth around my wrists, making sure it wasn't cutting too deep. "I'm sorry."

Then he left me there in the silence. My body ached, my lip stung, my nose throbbed, but the worst pain was in my chest.

Later that night, Chuck appeared, slipping through the shadows with a blanket bundled in his arms. His big eyes widened when he saw my tied hands and my face. "Amelia..." he whispered, horrified.

He tried tugging at the knots with his small hands, then pulled a screwdriver from his pocket. "I'll get you out—just hold still!"

The tip slipped, nicking my finger. "Ouch!"

Chuck froze, his face going pale. "I—I'm so sorry! I didn't mean—" His lip trembled like he'd failed me.

I softened, giving him the faintest smile through my tears. "It's okay, Chuck. Really."

He sniffled, slipping the blanket over my shoulders. When I glanced down later, I noticed something tucked under my thin pillow. A chocolate bar. My heart lurched. I remembered telling him once, offhand, that I loved chocolate.

As he slipped away, looking more upset than I'd ever seen him, I whispered after him, "He's so sweet. I really hope he doesn't get into trouble..."

And for the first time that night, I smiled.