The Bloody Walls

Sorry

Newt was back at the wall, again. He found himself sitting by the wall everyday.
Every single day.
He didn't know why, but the wall seemed to call him. Like the wall needed to tell him something.
The wall needed to tell him a secret.
The question was, what was the secret?
Minho sat down beside Newt.
"Hey," Minho greeted. That was all he said, a simple 'hey.'
"How are you?" Newt asked, not looking at his friend beside him.
Minho smiled and looked away, "I don't care how I am, you know that. I care about you."
This comment stiffened Newt, he cared, and he was being a selfish, ignorant, little boy.
He was selfish, not Chuck.
He was so selfish that he would stop his own pain, only to pass it on to his friends.
"Sorry," Newt said. "For, you know what."
Minho touched Newt's knee, the good one, and made Newt look at him.
"Hey dude, look at me." Newt turned his and stared at the runner beside him. "It's okay man. We're all okay now. Here in the Glade."
Newt nodded and smiled. For once his pain was gone.
The doors began to roar, indicating nightfall.
Newt had to scream above the noise, "If you excuse me, I need to apologize to Chuck!"
Minho nodded.
"Where is he!?"
Minho shrugged, opening his mouth to speak.
But Newt stopped him. He saw a plump figure running towards the maze.
Chuck.
"Chuck!" Newt cried. He rocketed up and ran full speed towards the boy, despite his limp.
"Chuck!"
His leg felt soar, but he wasn't giving up.
He did it.
He made it.
He grabbed Chuck by the collar and pulled him back just before the doors closed.
"I'm sorry Chuck."
Chuck nodded, blood rushed into his cheeks.
Just a simple nod.