A Helping Hand

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It's day 31 here in the glade. Just made it through one month of being in the glade. One mediocre side affect of being totally alone with no memories is that I didn't even get my period. Probably the only good thing to come out of my situation. This morning I woke up and walked over to the forest-y side of the glade. Walking deep into the woods, I found what I was looking for. The hut. The hut is an enclosed shelter I constructed in the very corner of the glade. I use this spot for my map. The map is made from sticks and tree sap, holding it in place. It spreads over a huge stone that I strategically and painstakingly shifted to the middle of the hut. The map contains all the knowledge I have of the glade and maze. Here's what I know so far, from a lot of sleepless nights and sore legs. The maze consists of eight sections. Every evening when the doors close, the maze shifts. Each section has an opening to the outside world, but unless you've mapped it to perfection (no, I haven't, thank you for reminding me) there is only certain death waiting for you beyond the walls. One time I threw a lamb in there. Next morning, there was just a couple of bones left, completely clean of all meat.

I was working on the tomatoes when the box came up. "What the hell is going on?" I exclaimed in bewilderment. The box hadn't come up in over a month, when it brought me up. So I was both extremely concerned and extremely excited. I sprinted over to the shaft, where the roller was towing the cable attached to the box up. I hauled the gates open and waited for the box to reach the top. I squinted down into the darkness, hoping to see some more clothes, some different food, even better weapons. But noooo. All I got was company. The box came to a stop and I stuffed all other emotions down as I let my cockiness take hold. This kid looked about my age, wavy orange hair, light blue eyes, a wave tattoo on his bare shoulder. I would call him your typical surfer dude. And I would be lying if I said he wasn't attractive. His arms were almost as muscled as mine (but not quite). He had his knees against his chest and when I lifted the box doors open he shrunk into the corner of the box, trying to hide from me. Before I jumped down to haul him out by his ear, I noticed that he was wearing the same things that I wore when I came up, minus the blood. 'So this must be a routine thing' I thought to myself,  but what came out of my mouth was "Good morning sunshine. Welcome to the glade." 

I took him by the arms and pulled him till he was standing. "Your legs work. That's good. Does your mouth?" I tilted my head sideways, as if inspecting the boy. He stared right at me, his eyes sparkling with confusion and fear. I clambered out of the box and beckoned him to follow. "You heard me pretty boy. What's your name?" I asked with a smirk. "My name? Um, my names Callan. Who are you and where am I?" He spoke as he climbed out of the box. I replied with a smart "If you help me clear out the box and build some stuff then I'll tell you" and he did as he was told. He helped me take the crates out of the box, putting everything in its own little place in the shelter. The weapons in the cabinet, the seeds in the solar fridge, the clothes in the cupboard, the equipment in the equipment hut, and the medical supplies (which I didn't have before, I just had to run some water over the injury and pray) went in the medical hut that he helped make. He then helped me extend the shelter, add another bed, and create another shower space. 

After all that was done, it was dinner time. The box had gone back down. The doors had closed. And I had set up the campfire, for the first time using two bowls instead of one. I made a rabbit stew, with fun spices and veggies in it. Callan seemed to enjoy it very much. While he had his mouth full with broth, I took the liberty to explain the situation. "So Callan. As promised, here are the answers to your questions and more. My name is Nyla, and I've been here about a month. You are in the glade, the field within the walls. And beyond the walls is the maze. The maze is very bad. I do not have many rules established, but if I did, rule #1 would be that you do not go into the maze. Understood?" He nodded his head. "Good. Now, I'm guessing that your next question will be 'why can't I remember anything?' and my answer to that is I don't know. Whoever did this to us has decided that they don't want us to have our memories. You will find in time that you will remember everything but yourself. Which is great. But I consider the glade as a new start. And hopefully one day we can figure a way out. Until then. You're going to help with everything. And when I go into the maze, you do not follow. Now come with me."

I picked up my machete, put my hand on Callan's back and coaxed him towards the wall. Handing him the blade, I nodded my head towards my engraving. "You want me to write my name?" He asked. I walked away. 31 days. And it's only his first.

Nyla. 

Callan. 

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