Remember Me || The Maze Runner || Minho

05 - Hurt

I had to work with the Slicers today. I felt like I did pretty good although it was disgusting. This job didn't involve any carefulness that my clumsiness could ruin. I had to plug my nose the whole time to stop myself from gagging tho.

The whole day I was tired. They put Minho back into his own room, and Newt gave me his. (Alby wasn't very happy about it.) I feel like I'm forcing them to give me special treatment. But I know Newt gave it to me out of his own kindness. He was that kind of person.

As soon as I was done working I went to Minho's room to see if he was doing okay. I felt like I was responsible for him, since I found him. And that tiny smudge of guilt still lingered inside of me, gnawing at my brain. I had no clue what that was even about.

I rapidly speed walked past anyone as I made it into the Homestead. Out of sheer luck, I ran into Gally. He half smiled at me and I awkwardly returned it. "Where you goin' Greenie? Gonna see that shank Minho?" he asked.

"Yeah," I responded quickly. I tried to push past him but he grabbed my arm.

"He's probably going to die you know."

I turned my head slowly and looked him straight in the eyes. "Don't say that."

"That slinthead is all torn up. He's been practically murdered, killed. He's not going to make it, Anne."

That was the first time he actually called me by my name. Not Greenie or the other Glader terms.

I glared at him and tore my arm from his grip. "You have no right to say that. It looks bad, I know that, but that still doesn't give you the right to say he's going to die."

"Don't get your hopes up Greenie." Gally went down the rest of the stairs and excited the building. I clenched my jaw tightly, anger boiling in my veins. He was such a... such a slinthead.

When I got to Minho's room Jeff was just leaving. He had blood caked bandages in his hands, along with a bottle of pills. His expression looked worried, extremely worried.

"Was he stung?" I asked, breaking the silence. Jeff shook his head.

"It's so weird. From what is looks like, all the Griever wanted to do was tear him limb from limb," he explained.

"Is he going to be okay?"

Without answering my question Jeff slid past me. "It's so weird," he repeated.

When he was out of sight I quietly entered Minho's room. Closing the door, my heart rate picked up at an almost ridiculous rate. I didn't want to look at him. I was too afraid of what I was going to see. Would he be covered in bandages and stitches head to toe? Would I ever see that same boy I saw a couple days ago?

After I gathered up all my courage I turned around. He lay on the small bed, motionless. His head was wrapped in a white bandage, Minho's normally perfect hair was mangled and stuck together with blood. All he had on was a pair of gross looking brown shorts that reached his knee. On his right leg were more bandages with stitches sticking out from underneath it.

My eyes wandered up to his bare torso. I could see blood soaking through the thick layer of gauze, it looked as if there was a large gash running down the middle of his body. I could only imagine the pain he was in. At least he was asleep, or passed out.

If it wasn't for the cuts and stitches covering his body, he would look pretty good. I could tell from his biceps that he was rather muscular, but I never though he would look like this. Newt has said we did seem the same age, soooo.

Shut up, Anne.

I refocused and grabbed a wooden chair that sat against the wall before bringing it over by Minho's bed. I sat down while his chest slowly went up and down. I could hear the faint sound of wheezing as breathed. He smelled like a hospital.

Where did that memory come from?

Minho looked so peaceful. Like nothing in this world would dare hurt him again. Why would Gally wish death upon him? He acted like he was a loyal, caring person. I certainly would never try to harm him. Not in a million years.

Thinking about that Griever, and what it must have felt like to be chased by that, it must have been a terrifying, painful experience. This made me not want to be a Runner even more than before. Minho risks his life everyday to help us, and what does he get? This, he gets this pain and fear that he might not make it through the day. I wish that I could take it all away.

I reached out and grabbed his still hand in mine. On his forearm were little cuts like he fell. That was really the only part if his body that wasn't ripped open. But his hand was very cold. I brought up my other hand and tried to warm Minho's.

Although his hand was larger than mine, I wrapped my hands around it and rubbed it so it would gain some heat. Minho suddenly shifted in his sleep before groaning. I held onto his hand to try to comfort him.

"It's going to be okay Minho. You'll wake up and be the same guy that made me laugh a few days ago," I whispered.

One tear ran down his cheeks and fell onto the white sheets. My heart ached at seeing him like this. He was so vulnerable.

"Don't cry, please don't cry. You are strong, I can see that, you can beat this. I believe in you, so just fight it. Fight it with every muscle you got, because we need you, Minho."

Another tear rolled down his now pale face. "It's going to be okay," I cooed. I felt a slight squeeze of my hand, realizing it was Minho, I smiled. He could hear me, so maybe I did help him.

Minho suddenly began to shake violently. Startled, I let go of his hand and shot backward, falling out of my chair. I didn't know what to do so I panicked and ran out of his room.

"Med-Jacks!" I shrieked. "Med-Jacks!"

Clint and Jeff finally ran up to Minho's room and pushed past me quickly. They entered his room and slammed the door shut. I didn't know what they were going to do, or what was happening to him. Was it because of me?

I left the Homestead immediately for the Deadheads. I went deep into the forest and climbed up a tree to be by myself. I tried not cry, but it was no use. Sobs racked through my body endlessly.

I didn't bother to get supper. I stayed in that tree until the walls closed and the sky was dark. I heard people calling for me, but I didn't want them to see me like this. I felt so weak. I wasn't strong at all, I'm just a frail little girl.

"Anne? Come out, please," I heard a familiar voice say. I heard leaves crunch right below me. "I know you're here, Greenie. Winston told me he saw you run here."

Oh great, I work for the guy all day and he rats me out.

I decided to show myself as I slowly descended down the tree trunk. It was so dark I could hardly see Newt even tho he was right in front of me.

"What are you doing out here?" Newt asked me. I didn't want to say crying so I lied.

"I was just, resting."

I could see Newt shake his head. "No you weren't. We're friends, you can tell me the truth."

"I was just resting okay?!" I demanded.

"Fine, don't tell me. But Minho is okay, they got him under control. He's a bloody tough shank."

It felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Minho was okay now and that was all that mattered to me.

"Can you sleep with me tonight? On the floor I mean," I offered.

"Yeah, I can. Lets go." Newt put his arm around my shoulders and we walked to the Homestead together.