The Maze Runner: Short Stories

Newt

Newt's POV

"Lost another one today," Alby says, walking up to me "didn't make it back."

"Really?" That's the fourth Glader to die in the past few months, and not only from not making it back. Two have died from that, but one was in an accident in the Blood House, and another choked. I don't even bother asking who it is, I just turn and walk to the tables near the kitchen, taking a seat beside Minho.

"Hey," he says to me, food falling from his mouth. "Hear the news?"

He said it like it didn't even hinder him, like he was telling me what was for lunch today, not even bothering to sound concerned. That was basically what everyone did now, everyone knew that we couldn't hold on to those lost and we have to move on. He have to get stuff done, obtain order.

I didn't like that, though. I thought it was sick, these kids that died, they died because some idiots decided to stick us here. What was the purpose of us being here? Why couldn't we live a normal life, like normal kids? And that's all we are, too, just kids. Alby always tries to be optimistic, says that if we wait everything will be okay. He says that we must be in here for something important. A greater good, something we just can't see yet, but we've waited about a year and a half now. We're still waiting.

"Yeah," I finally answer. "I heard."

I run my hands through my hair and sigh. I hate it here, I hate everything about it here. The only only thing that's keeping me here is the fact that if something had happened to me-given my position in The Glade- things would go all out of whack and I wouldn't want that for them.

"Hey, man, you alright?" Minho asks after he swallows his food. "Seem a little out of it."

I bite my lip, shaking my head. "I'm fine." I rise from my seat without saying another word. While walking back to the Homestead, a wave of exhaustion hits me and I realize how tired I am.

I work every day, non stop. For someone normal, in a normal world with normal people, working like that would get you a nice house or a luxurious apartment in the city. For me, it gets me a shack, food, and another day. Ordinary people strive to be great, I strive to be ordinary.

I lay down on my make shift bed, lying on my side and closing my eyes, waiting for sleep but it doesn't come. I lay for hours, flipping over and uncovering and covering myself back up. There's something nagging at me, keeping me awake and clawing at my brain, but I can't seem to put my finger on what it is. My head hurts now, and the sun is starting to peek through in the early morning. It's just about the time where the Doors open, where the Runners rise before anyone else and begin their day in the first hours of the morning. Where no one else is awake, it's peaceful and calm, it's before all the Gladers awake and roam the Glade.

I get up, there's no point in staying in bed. I step out the Homestead and look around. I sigh, it's actually kind of beautiful. The Walls, gigantic slabs of stone covered in ivy. The Deadheads, despite the name, it's not all that scary, it's very green and nice. If it weren't for all the stress, all the monsters lurking in the Maze, the constant weight on my shoulders of not knowing, it could be nice here.

But they're there, the stress, all of it, and I absolutely hate it here. I don't know why, but the past few days have triggered something inside of me. It's spiked my depression of being stuck here and it's made everything worse. There was always a part of me that cared about life, the optimistic side that told everyone to work hard and good things would come. But there was a bigger part of me that didn't think anything was worth it, if someone held a knife to my throat I wouldn't fight them, I wouldn't care.

I feel that in my life before here, I was happy, but it doesn't matter, any of it. Because the people we were before The Maze, they don't even exist anymore.

I find myself walking towards the walls, hundreds of feet tall and seeming as they defy and law of physics.

I hate my life, I hate it, I hate it so much.

I walk closer to the walls, I've been inside the Maze a few times, not enough to do what Minho does, but I've been here. I stand in front of the Doors, looking inside the Maze. Up the walls and down the corridors, there's ivy everywhere.

I hate my life.

It's almost a numbing feeling, like I've lost all emotion. I don't care about anything anymore, I don't care about myself. I hate myself, I wish I were gone. I wish I had never existed, it would be so much better, so much easier.

Living is hard, dying would be easy.

I walk into The Maze, down the first corridor and I take a right, I take a few more turns and stop, staring up.

Living is hard, dying is easy.

I grip onto the ivy, lifting myself up and putting my foot in a crack in the stone. I keep climbing until I go about half way up.

Living is hard, so hard.

My breaths are shaky and there's a lump in my throat. Am I really going to do this? Leave this place? Then I remember that's all I ever wanted, was to leave this bloody place and never come back, even if it killed me in the process.

Dying is easy. All I have to do is let go.

I close my eyes, I'm mad at myself. I hate myself for letting me get like this. Depressed, weak, vulnerable. There's nothing left to live for, I don't deserve to be here. I couldn't even save myself.

So I let go.

I fall for a few seconds, it was blissful, then I hit the ground.

But I'm still alive. All I can feel is pain, and I want to climb even higher and jump off again but I can't move. I can't do anything right, can I? Even messed up on my own suicide.

Everything is hazy and blurry and my breaths are short and ragged, my vision starts to dim as I move in and out of consciousness. I black out for a while, and when my eyes open again it's darker, almost time for the Doors to close.

Maybe I'll be left out here, maybe the Grievers will get me. I hope no one is looking for me, I hope they let me die.

But that's not what happened, I hear someone calling my name and multiple footsteps hitting the stone ground.

"Over here!"

There's someone kneeling next to me, saying over and over "Newt, oh gosh! What were you thinking?" It was Alby, and he was crying. My eyes open and close slowly and I mumble "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." Before I black out again.

.

When I wake up, I'm laying in the Medjacks' room on a cot, a glass of water sitting next to me and Alby passed out of the floor.

"Alby," I try to say, but my voice comes out as a weak croak.

My leg is bandaged, blood seeping through the cloth, and I have bruises up and down my arms.

"Alby," I try again, my voice a little bit louder, but not enough to wake him. "I'm sorry..." I say although I know he can't hear me, I need them all to know how sorry I am.

Even though I'm sorry, I wished it would have worked. I hate it here, I hate it so much. It burns through me and I can't shake the feeling.

"I'm sorry..." I close my eyes and drift back into sleep.

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I probably could've made this better, I'm sorry. Leave feedback?