21 - Scorched

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*edited in later: Just a little notice before the chapter starts. This isn't part of the book, but I genuinely need your help. I posted this on my message board as well.

Guys, I really need your help. 

One of my very good friends has a really abusive dad. He doesn't let her go out or do anything etc, and her whole family including her mom is afraid of him. Recently, her mom gave birth again, and she has to take care of the baby, wash clothes, cook, etc etc. She's really stressed out, and a while ago she told us she wanted to give up. Luckily we were able to convince her not to, but what can we do to help her? 

We've given her support over the past year and a half, but things aren't getting better; they're getting worse. Her dad literally hits her and her mum/siblings, and he also refuses to go for counselling. We want to call the authorities, but that may just break her even more, and she might give up... 

Guys please help... I'm shaking rn please and thanks :'(

~

Thomas POV

Another few days passed, and my energy level had gone down drastically. Water was no longer able to satisfy my hunger; I needed food. Any food.

And I got my wish.

Early in the morning, Minho barged into Newt and I's room, waking us up. I was just about to lecture him on privacy (god knows what we could have been doing at that time) when he threw an apple at me. I caught it and stared at it like I had never seen it before.

Food.

Before my mind could register it, Newt reached down and took a bit of the apple from my hand.

Crunch. Crunch.

The overwhelming smell finally caught up to me, and I took a huge bite of the fruit. Delicious sweetness engulfed me and I let out a contented sigh.

"Come on, shuckface. There's more outside," Minho said to us after a second. Eager, I jumped out of bed and ran after him, Newt at my heels.

~Timeskip~

An hour or so after I woke up, I was full and happy. Well- maybe a little more than full. In the previous room with the bodies, or as I'd like to remember it the dining room, had been piles and piles of edible goodness. Even after all us had had more than our portion, there was still a lot left.

And then there was another thing - a man sat at the corner of the room, refusing to speak, surrounded by an invisible but solid as hell wall. I knew this because I stepped right into it.

Ouch.

A while later, the man finally stood up from his reclining position and started speaking. We called him Rat Man, as he vaguely resembled a rat. He told us that we all had the Flare, and as the Phase 2 of WICKED's little experiment, we were to make our way through the Scorch to reach a "safe haven", where we would receive our cure.

Basically, WICKED lied their asses off and is forcing us to play their game or die.

From the past few days' experiences, we all already knew that this wasn't the end, that there was much more to come, but still a feeling of betrayal and hatred hit me. A few Gladers started to shout at Rat Man, but he calmly informed us that we had an hour to pack our things before a "Flat Trans" appeared to take us to the Scorch. Whatever that was.

Minho started to give orders, and soon, whatever food we had left was wrapped up in bundles made using blankets. We got a few plastic bags the food came in and used them to hold water. I doubt it would last us very long, but what choice did we have?

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