Newt could remember being carried into the... the... homestead. That's what the rough boy's who'd grabbed his shoulders and ankles had called it. The Homestead. His memories were clouded, though. He kept hearing the word 'concussion' being repeated. They laid him down on a bed by swinging his body upward and then sharply down which did no favors to his splitting headache.
"Grab me a cold, wet towel," mumbled one boy to the other. The sandy -haired boy who'd been given the tasked sighed deeply as if the other was asking him to do some kind of taxing, hard labor.
The boy who'd given the order watched the other slump away to the other corner of the room and soak a towel; probably to be sure he did the terribly hard job correctly.
He rolled his eyes. "Always giving attitude, that one," he sighed, looking down at Newt, and jabbing a calloused thumb in the other boy's direction. "Hey, what's the hold up, shuck-face," he called to the boy.
"I'm coming I'm coming," he groaned back, and began walking over, dragging his feet, while the water from the towel dripped freely onto the floor.
Newt relaxed and closed his eyes. He felt the cool towel press firmly onto his forehead. After that, it was unclear to him whether he simply fell asleep, or passed out.
YOU ARE READING
Lizard's Running
RandomOKAY so I understand that Newt came up into the maze with the original Gladers but I thought it would be interesting to write from his point of view as the new guy. So, I guess we'll see what happens. Just so it's clear, this is not Minewt. Also, I...
