Saudade // The Maze Runner // Thomas [IN EDITING]

Chapter 3

Smooth, motherly hands cupped my face, and I felt a sweet kiss on my forehead.

"Thalia, it's time to go to sleep. I know you're worried about your brother but he's going to be okay.. You're too young to stay up after midnight." A woman's voice whispered. I struggled to open my eyes, and when I did I realized I was in a dark room.

I was curled up on a child's bed, in a room with soft pink walls. A lamp placed on the bedside table was turned on, illuminating a woman who kneeled next to me.

She had blue eyes, and long dark hair that fell down and framed her face. She gave me a comforting smile, and I felt a sob hiccup in my throat. The skin under my eyes felt cracked and dry, as if I had been crying.

"Mom," young me cried. "I don't want James to die." A fresh tear fell down my cheek, and landed upon the pillowcase.

A terrible pain tore through my small body, and I let out a scream. My mother didn't react, and I realized I was witnessing a memory. My body shook, and my vision flashed black, opening up to a new setting again.

A coffin lay before me, and my parents stood on either side of me a comforting hand on each of my shoulders. A body encased in plastic lay within the coffin. A boy about fourteen lay in the box. His face and body and limbs were streaked with purple veins, and his skin was bruised. The bag had 'Contagious' written in big black letters across the front of the bag.

A picture on the top of the coffin showed a healthy young boy with a smile on his face. Underneath the photo was a name. I could barely make out the name 'James.'

My vision went black again, and I writhed with pain. I faintly felt hands firmly holding me down, and I fought against them, and the sound of shouting filled my ears.

I was seated in the back of a limo, and I turned to see a house far away, and the small figure of my mother standing on the porch. Even with the distance, I could see she was distraught. As I looked, she raised her right hand in a forlorn goodbye.   

I turned back to see a woman in a white suit seated across from me. She gave me a cold smile.

"Remember, Thalia. WICKED is good."

I could feel my body gasping for breath, and I struggled to breathe as pain lanced through me. My thigh was aching and I could hear people screaming at me to wake up.

I saw quick flashes of myself and another boy with black hair and blue eyes. We were young, probably around ten years old. We were in a lounge decorated with couches, clutching our sides and laughing. 

In the next memory, the same boy appeared again. Only this time, we must have been only a few years younger than I was now. I was writhing on the floor of a room with bunkbeds. Thomas --  I had somehow remembered his name -- had me pinned down, and his fingers were only a blur over my sides as I writhed and laughed, trying to escape his tickle-inflicting fingers.

Eventually, I grabbed his hands, and he pinned them over my head.

"Do you give up?" He asked me, a voice in his laugh. I watched from above as my face twisted into a pout.

"I'll never give up." I gave him a sneaky smile, and rolled over, pinning him underneath me.

He laughed. "I knew you would do that."

My eyesight went black, and I opened my eyes again to see a bonfire in front of me.

I turned to see Thomas looking at me and I smiled. He leaned his head on mine and pulled me close to him.