Someone to Stay

Something's Off

The following day, the doctors had to run more tests. They said it was because we were 'lacking nutrients' but some of the things they did to us were absurd. They took me away from the boys again, this time Teresa wasn't with me. None of us had seen her since we arrived.

At about lunchtime, the doctors took a break, leaving me alone in the room with a lunch tray. On it, was a sandwich, mashed potatoes, and a water bottle. I picked at my food. Why didn't they let me at least stay by my friends? I wasn't used to being alone. It made me feel, well.. lonely.

The doctor had only left about 5 minutes ago, when there was a knock.

"Come in," I call. Great. Not even one peaceful meal.

I assumed the doctor that I usually had was coming to check on me, but instead Quintin had come in. I stood up.

He gave me a small smile. "Hi."

"What are you doing here?" I asked. Just because he said he knew me before the maze doesn't mean I trust him completely. He could be lying, knowing that I don't remember and trying to convince me into believing something that's not true.

" I came to see you," he softly said. He seemed kind, innocent as if he truly just wanted to talk. "I wanted to show you something. It's something that could help you remember."

I stayed silent. What could he possibly have that could help me. WICKED was the one who took everything from me. They had my memories and anything I could've had before the maze. I was curious as to what Quintin was talking about so I followed him to another room.

"I'm not supposed to talk to the subj- er I mean you guys, but I know you. I have to." Quintin took me to what looked like a storage area. My eyes scanned the place. Lockers covered the walls. All of them having small print engraved into them. Quintin went to a desk and started ruffling through a beat up box. I took it as a chance to investigate the room. I got closer and read one of the lockers.

Subject A-19
Y/N

My eyes went wide. Why was my name on there?

"Look," Quintins voice startled me and I quickly looked away from the locker.

He came close to me, holding onto what looked like pictures. He handed them to me. The first one showed... me? I looked about 15 or so. I was holding onto a younger version of Quintin. I studied the picture noticing how close we were.

"That was about 2 years ago." Quintin pointed out. "When we first started dating."

I knit my eyebrows. I couldn't believe it. He wasn't lying. I went onto the second picture. There we were sitting on a desk. My head resting on his shoulder.

"I remember that day. It was your 16th birthday." I look up at Quintin. "More than a year ago."

"Which means I must be about 17 huh?" I ask. He nods.

I flip to the final photograph. In it, Quintin is carrying me on his back. Both of us showing bright grins.

"That was the last time I saw you," Quintin takes the picture back. "They told me you ran away. But you didn't. They took you. You're here now!" I don't reply. Quintin gets closer to me. I meet his brown eyes. He pushes inwards like he was about to kiss me, but I back away. "What's wrong?" He asks.

"Quintin," I respond, "I don't even know who you are. I don't know who I was."

"You're YN." He pleads, "you were my girlfriend."