What If | tmr, newt ✓

Chapter 27

Impossible.

"Ben?" I say nervously, voice wavering.

He doesn't respond, just keeps sobbing, bringing his trembling hands to his face and rubbing his eyes over and over, occasionally disturbing the bandage wrapped around his head. The growing dark spot on the white fabric is just a reminder of his past actions: but if I look at him now, he doesn't look mad. Just deeply distressed... and terrified.

"...Ben?"

"I-I didn't m-mean to, Adalyn, you have to believe me, it's not my f-fault, you have to st-stop them..."

I'm shocked at his expression and demeanour; the boy I knew just days ago - fun, easy-going, confident - was gone, swallowed whole by this limp figure shivering at the back of a jail cell. "What're you talking about?"

"It was the Ch-changing, I didn't m-mean to attack him, I wasn't feeling m-myself, please, help me."

I frown, feeling desperately sorry him. "Nobody blames you, Ben."

"Yeah, yeah they do, p-please stop them," he says, rocking back and forth. Maybe be had gone insane.

"What're you talking about?"

He looks me in the eye, still shaking uncontrollably. "I broke a rule, Adalyn. H-help me, p-please."

I continue to stare at him for a few seconds until everything clicks into place. The realisation is like being hit by a truck: crushing, and out of nowhere. I sink to the soft grass, still holding on to the wooden bars like life supports. "They couldn't," I whisper to myself, head spinning. Somehow I force myself to look back at Ben, the dark circles under his eyes, pale skin, short blonde hair a matted mess from running sweaty hands through it.

Ben tucks his legs closer to his chest as he whimpers. "Please don't, please, please don't..."

I stare in mute horror at my friend - once a brave, assertive Runner, now burnt down to the mere ashes of his original self - that I can't help.

Rule number two: never harm another Glader.

They were going to Banish him.

***

Twenty minutes before the Doors would close, every last Glader was gathered around the East door. I didn't want to be here to witness it, but Alby forced me to; I was starting to dislike the guy more and more, though I once considered him a friend. His mood had turned bitter and angry since Thomas had arrived.

With Newt being needed as well as most of my close friends, I found myself hovering near the back of the group with Chuck and Thomas. Surprisingly, Chuck was perfectly still, not even attempting a pathetic joke. The older boy, on the other hand, crossed his arms and fidgeted on his feet, eyes darting around to inspect the group. I felt a mix of emotions for him at the moment: sympathy, because he thought it was his fault Ben was being Banished. And dislike. Because somehow, one unreasonable part of me wanted to blame him as well.

"Bring him out!" Alby shouts, making me wince from the sudden sound. My head hanging low, I slowly bring my eyes up and face the Homestead.

Three of the Gladers, including Zart, drag Ben across the courtyard. I can't stand to watch it. He makes no effort to walk, not even as his shins hit the worn-out ground and the Gladers' grip tighten around his arms. The spot of blood on his bandage has only grown, now covering a third of the fabric wrapped around his head.

Behind me, I can hear Alby dish out orders to the Keepers. I don't turn. I suddenly feel angry at him, at the Gladers, at the people who put us here. At everyone. It wasn't fair: Ben was just a boy.

Eventually they meet the ground and throw Ben at Alby's feet. He makes no effort to resist, though I can still hear his unsteady breathing as he looks down at the ground in shame.

"You brought this on yourself, Ben."

Anyone not paying attention wouldn't have heard the whimper Ben let out. But I did. That quiet, desperate sound like a puppy being wounded was all it took for me to lose it. Trying to momentarily hold back my tears, I storm away from the group - hair flying in my face - towards the Deadheads, not caring that everyone could see and not wanting anyone to follow. If they did, I would probably snap, wanting to take my rage out on them.

Because I couldn't just watch as my friend was forced to his death.

The first line of trees is just within reach when the Doors begin to close. They stop me in my tracks. I could go back now, I could try and save him. Half of me feels like a coward, the other half knows that would be irrational. They would probably end up Banishing me too.

Ben's screams echo within the towering Walls, a sound that will never escape. His screams will stay with me forever, amongst other things. Waking up in the Box. Grievers. My best friend being knocked unconscious.

And now this.

At long last, I break down in sobs, salty water streaming down my face. I bury my face in my hands, still hearing the Doors' shudders and Ben's wailing. Any moment now, they would close shut. Any moment now, he would be trapped out there for the whole night. Maybe he'll make it, I try to convince myself, drying my eyes on my sleeves. I know if I spoke now, my voice would be hoarse. You survived for a few hours once.

But that couldn't have been much more of a different circumstance. There were two of us, the Grievers didn't want to hurt me, and night lasts much longer than a couple hours of the afternoon. And even if he did somehow make it... then what? Wouldn't he just be Banished again?

I turn around at the last second, just before the doors seal tight. Although many metres away, I can just make him out through the group of Gladers; kneeling on the floor of the Maze as he screams, pushing his hands against the blocks of stone as if he can stop them moving.

Oh, Ben.

You should have just died when Alby shot you.