Chapter 5

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by gladeragon

by gladeragon

ARIA

I know I'm asleep, so I can't be dreaming. What I'm experiencing feels real, yet everything happens without my choice. I have no control of what I'm doing. It's almost like a movie replaying in my head. It's another one of those weird memories. Real memories, that I should have, but I don't.

I'm in a white room. White floor, ceiling, walls. A door. A desk. A toilet. That's it. But nothing about the padded white room bothers me. Like I've been here for a while, too many endless, lonely days to count. This dream is like the last one - but this happened much more recently, almost like it was yesterday. I'm wearing the same clothes, with the same dark wavy hair, ends tickling my elbows. In the light I can see it's black, and against the white it's a sharp shadow on the edge of my vision.

I don't know what time it is, and it bothers me slightly. But there's nothing I can do about it. I'm, stuck here, waiting for something to happen. There's a slot at the bottom where they deliver food, but that's closest to another human W.I.C.K.E.D. allows me to be. Wait, what? Past me obviously still has memories since I have no idea what WICKED means. Sounds cruel, though. And the bitter thoughts trailing after the mention of the word confirms I don't like this. Them. Them people who are supposedly human, locking me up for one of their experiments to 'save the world'.

The thoughts run through my head so fast I'm afraid I'll miss the details. I'm feeding on what I used to know, learning what I can from the past in hope it can help me in the future, the present that is the future.

I decide to stand up, and every joint in my body pops. I feel like exercising, after eating, sleeping and doing nothing else. I feel like I have a sugar rush or something. Past me knows it's only been 3 hours since I stood up, even though it felt longer. Or shorter. I have no idea, and it scares the real me. Well, the older one. The future one.

I start running. Starting at a jog, running as far as I can. To the opposite wall, before turning left. Running, turning. My speed picks up until I'm sprinting round the room, testing my agility in the available space. I vault over the desk and run on the wall, almost having fun with myself. A word comes to me - parkour. This is something I enjoy, as useful as it could be. Watching myself, I almost smile. This feels like an act of rebellion. Against the WICKED people. Not subjecting to the lonely, boring life they've put me in.

I don't know how long I'm running, but it doesn't seem long enough when the door opens. I'm surprised, but I try not to show it. W.I.C.K.E.D. has taken enough from me. Though I still don't know what that means I feel sorry for myself, and ready to fight. Somehow. But I promise I will.

Past me stops running, but continues to ignore whoever just walked through the door. I have a gut feeling it's Janson. Again this means nothing to present me. Curiosity tortures me. It's becoming a great flaw in me. After 10 seconds, I decide to turn around and face the intruder. It's not Janson, though. It's another girl.

She's similar in height to me, maybe 5 1/2 feet tall. Her hair is tar black, a different shade than mine. What strikes me, though, is how pale her skin is. It makes her look almost like a ghost. She doesn't look like she's another prisoner like me though. She looks like she's with W.I.C.K.E.D.

I stare at her, not creepily, but with a death glare. I won't be intimidated by her, and I certainly won't let her think that. She stares me down too. Almost with a look of disinterest, a blank expression. When she speaks, she doesn't look anywhere else but my eyes.

"We're sending you to the Maze."

The conversation isn't finished, I feel it, yet everything suddenly dissolves, leaving me with a black mind. The memory disappears like a dream, like it never happened.

"Greenie? Aria! You're not bloody dead, are you?" I'd recognise the accented voice anywhere, and sit up to find Newt a few metres away, frowning slightly. I'm fine, I want to tell him. He limps over, and I get a shot of pity. Just now I was running, skidding, and jumping, something he'll never be able to do. He looks happy to see me, though, so I paste a genuine smile on my face.

"What are you doing in the Deadheads?" I take the crumpled paper from my pocket and write a simple explanation: I was exploring. Newt's eyes widen, and he looks slightly angry. "You can't just run off like that. What if you die? What if you get stuck in the bloody Maze?" Maze. Just like that weird girl mentioned. The Maze is here. Which means they sent me here. So that dream is real. It happened. It is a real memory of mine, one of the only ones I remember.

What's the Maze? I write. But Newt doesn't answer, acting like he never said anything. "Come on, I gotta show you something before all the other shanks wake up." I nod and he leads me out of the woods, or Deadheads, to one of the walls.

I don't know what's so special about the wall, but he pushes back ivy to reveal a small window. It might as well be painted black, it's so dark. I can't see anything. As if Newt can read my mind, he starts explaining.

"Out there's the Maze. Beyond these walls." He's looking out the window, almost like he's waiting for something. "Dunno what's beyond that. But no one goes past the bloody walls but them Runners. They're trying to find a way out, trying to solve the Maze.

"It's a good thing those doors close, you know. Keeps the Grievers out." He looks at me, eyes shining in the shadow of the wall. They're a warm brown, and I stare into them too long. Stop it, I scold myself. Focus. On what, the Grievers? I don't even know what they are, only that they sting people. And if you get stung, you go through the Changing. Or something like that.

"That's what I'm showing you, Aria." Then a red light blinks, or maybe multiple. I can't tell in the darkness. My eyes grope for the little light that there is out there, and I see the silhouette of a large, moving thing. I'm guessing that's the Griever. It lunges toward the window, and I stumble back. Newt catches me, but I still would've screamed if I could.

Up close, it's horrific. It looks like a combination of robot and raw skin and blubber. There are claws, and other tools that poke in and out. It looks like an experiment gone wrong, and as I continue to look at it, it's deformity implies it definitely could be. And then it's gone. Off to roam more of the Maze.

I stand up, but Newt still holds me firm, aware in case I pass out. I know I won't - I don't want to seem weak or fragile - but my head is spinning, and I feel a bit dizzy. "You okay? Sorry if it was a bit bloody stupid of me to show you that your first morning here." I look back at him, slightly shaking my head. It's fine. I kinda wanna thank you. I smile, but it's real this time. Even if everything turns against me I feel that Newt might defend me.

I walk off to who knows where, but I'm really just trying to figure out what just happened. But I'm certain about two things. I know I want to stay friends with Newt. And help solve the Maze, somehow. No one deserves to be here.

hey new chapters here. It's next week (yay). Hope you like this. Hopefully I can post again soon and not let this streak down :)...