I kind of have writers block right now so sorry for the sucky chapter.
The second that Alby was gone, fear started pricking the back of my brain. It started as a tiny tick and grew to the point where each passing Glader became a threat to me.
I grabbed at my leg for my knife, it was a comfort blanket to me, as strange as that sounds.
"Crap," I muttered as I grabbed at my boot, only finding my scabbed and bruised leg.
Minho or Winston had it. They took it when I passed out in the woods. I needed that knife to feel safe.
Without it, I felt as if Gally was going to jump out at any second and strangle me. The fear grew in my brain, peeling away my insides and replacing them with a large knot. Before I could make a decision, I was headed in the direction of the bloodhouse. In the direction of Winston.
It's reeeeaaaaaalllllllyyyyy short and I'm sorry!😁😁😁 I'll try to update soon. I named this chapter just because it kind of stood out to me and yeah. I have homework to do and it's getting kind of late and I have basketball tomorrow.
Goodnight! ~Caelyn
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