When We're Older- The Maze Runner (Newt)

woman

NEWT

"Newt, I'm fine. Honestly." Mae tried to brush off the fact that she was missing a small piece of her arm. I might've been overreacting, but if there's blood on this girl anywhere, it immediately sends me into panic mode.

"Tommy, hand me a bandage." I murmured to my friend, who sat on the roof, staring at her as she rolled her eyes. Vince was busy trying to take her jacket off, at which she slammed her fist into the metal. I looked at her with a knowing glare—this all could've been solved if she had just listened to me.

She never does though.

"I'm fine, Newt. You're overreacting." She groaned, ripping her arm out of my grasp when I tried to wrap the bandage Thomas had handed me around her wound.

I could feel my blood start to boil with every moment that passed. I wasn't one to become mad so easily, especially at someone I cared so much about. But the fact that she had risked her life to save me—something so reckless—made me upset. She could've died for all I knew. And it would've been my fault.

Glaring at her, I gripped her arm again, hearing her sigh and hold her head in her other hand. Vince and Thomas watched as I wrapped the sealant around the wound to stop blood from going everywhere. The gash wasn't that big...but it was enough to bleed. Tying the knot tight at the end, I noticed Mae clench her jaw and pinch her eyes shut, trying to contain her pain. I shook my head before standing up.

"It'll be fine until we get back to the camp." I spoke flatly. "I'll have to clean it and probably stitch it up there."

As soon as I finished my sentence, I bent down and grabbed my backpack, moving over to the edge of the car, where I sat back down and let my feet dangle over the edge. Sitting there, I had a flashback of when I used to sit on top of the Maze walls. Day after day, I used to run the Maze, the claustrophobia making me feel like I was suffocating. But when I climbed that ivy, and looked out at the rest of the Maze, sometimes staring up at the sky, I felt like I wasn't contained anymore.

That's how it felt with you, Mae. You made me feel like I was free, even in our darkest times. And as I stared at the dry mountains and the earth below us, I couldn't help but think of you. Even though I was upset, you always made your way through my mind. I felt powerless against that, and yet, I didn't want the power. I wanted you.

Fishing through my bag which held little belongings, I grabbed my plastic bag of crackers, opening it, and biting into one. I wasn't hungry, just bored. I had quite a while to think, and maybe write. I didn't want to talk to anyone, but I wasn't going to push someone away if they were to try to make conversation.

I set the bag of food next to me, praying that it wouldn't blow away with the wind. Reaching into my bag for a second time, I grabbed my journal and pen, opening to a blank page before I tucked my tongue in between my teeth and started to let my pen direct my thoughts. Back hunched, feeling the wind blow through my hair, I used this time as a release so that maybe I wouldn't be so worked up the next time I talked to Mae.

It felt weird—being upset with her. I could faintly hear her soft murmurs as she spoke to Vince and Thomas about who knows what. I was biting off more than I could chew. A part of me wanted to go talk to them, but another part of me wanted to sit here and write. Let my thoughts speak to each other like they had when I was waiting for the signal. I thought it was funny how I was only fully able to express myself through my writing, and not so much my words. I guess it was just the anxiety of being face to face with someone and telling them how I felt that made me want to crawl back into my shell.

Mae had power. There's no denying that. I knew it the moment she told everyone to wash their hands before they ate—or Minho did at least. The point is that I guess she intimidated me a bit. Despite acting differently when I was around, and being one of the nicest people I've ever met, her ability to make someone feel small was almost scary. I don't think she liked doing it, though. She told me once that at times where she felt small, she wished that she could overcome it. Maybe she doesn't even realize that she belittles someone until they bark back at her. The confidence she had was amazing as well. Times where she doesn't think she'll be able to do anything then surprises herself as well as everyone around her as well is something I don't think I could ever get over. I wished that I could be like her.