Into The WICKED Maze | A Maze Runner Story (English Version)

15. Infinitely many tears

Clint was still sitting next to my head, trying to calm me down by stroking my forehead, because by now I had enough strength again to cry. I didn't sob so uncontrollably anymore, but the tears made their way across my cheeks.
After a short time he straightened up and carefully tried to move Stan's body away from me. At first he didn't seem strong enough, but then he tried harder and managed to roll him next to me.
Finally I could breathe freely again and gasped for air. I had known that lifeless bodies were harder to move and also felt to weigh more than living ones, but I had not thought that it made such a difference. Clint probably didn't think so either, because he didn't seem to have expected that he would have to exert himself so much.
With the oxygen restored, I immediately noticed that my strength was flowing through me again, opened my eyes and tried to sit up, with Clint helping me. My right side stung, but when I pulled my top up to see if the bandage was red again, it was still as white as when I put it on. I breathed a sigh of relief, and Clint seemed to have a load off his mind, too.
For a moment I felt really good, because apparently nothing had happened to me until I looked at the spot where I had just been lying. I gasped for breath in horror and held my hands in front of my mouth so as not to throw up. A huge puddle of blood was there and I knew that I had hit something important with the scissors and that what I had known for a long time became the terrible truth - I had killed Stan.
Again I felt the hot tears running down my cheeks and this time I couldn't hold on to myself. The sobs shook me and I could barely breathe again because I was in danger of having a hysterical fit. I sat crouched against the wall next to the door, while Clint tried to calm me down somehow, clumsily putting his arm around me and stroking my head with his other hand.
"Shh, hey, it's going to be all right. You just fought back, he wasn't himself, he was jacked. Sooner or later this would have ended up like this anyway."
I knew he was right and I knew that no one would judge me for what had happened, because I had really just fought back, but still there was this thought in my head that I couldn't get rid of and would never forget.
You have just killed a man.
A boy who was definitely younger than me, who had known me, who had told me just last night that he had always watched me before, while I didn't even know he existed.
Until today.
Because I would never forget him again, I was sure of that. Nobody could forget something like that.
The sobs shook me as I opened my eyes a little and looked over to his dead body. That could simply not be true. It simply could not be.
I prayed inwardly that I would wake up right next to Newt, in the small room I had remembered, and that all this had been just a bad dream. That I would know again who I was and where we were, and that we would go on living our lives, somewhere, without the images that I would never get rid of now.
But I didn't wake up, because of course I didn't sleep either. I was really here, sitting in this hut next to the lifeless body of the boy I had killed a few minutes ago and I just couldn't stop crying. Nothing Clint tried helped. I only calmed down a little when footsteps came towards us again and Newt rushed in with Alby and Nick. Immediately he dropped to his knees next to me and took me in his arms.
If I had just thought that I had calmed myself down a little with the presence of the others, then I was wrong. No sooner had my head touched Newt's chest than I cried worse than ever and clawed my fists into his shirt. He stroked across my back and kissed me gently on the forehead, again and again.
Eventually, when the other boys had been examining Stan for a long time and had already realised that the scissors I had rammed into his side must have hit his lungs, the sobs finally subsided and I felt as if I had used up all my reserves.
With my head throbbing and breathing heavily I was still leaning against Newt's chest and he didn't let go of me for a second. He knelt before me and swayed me back in front of us while he still stroked me tenderly on my back.
I felt as if I had a fever, so unbearable was the pain in my head caused by all the sobbing. I felt terribly tired and threatened to just dawdle away as footsteps came towards the hut again. This time there were many feet and I was sure that the remaining lights had caught our attention.
I looked up slightly and saw Minho reach the door first and stop as if rooted to the door frame, holding on to the door frame to absorb his momentum. He gasped in horror and opened his otherwise narrow eyes wide.
Behind him I heard murmuring, some louder, some softer, and then I heard someone cursing.
"Damn it, let me through, you slintheads! Minho, what happened here?!"
Gally literally pushed him aside and then stopped as well when he saw Stan and all the blood. He couldn't see us right away because we were still sitting next to the door.
"Where is she?!" Now he almost screamed.
"I'm here Gally," I croaked hoarsely and he whirled around to us immediately.
"Oh God, klunk, you're all right!" He dropped to his knees, Newt released me and I fell into his arms. If I still had tears left, I would probably have started crying again, but so I just buried my face on his chest and let him press me to him without complaining about the pain.
I really could have been worse, I knew that now.