My Poetry Collection

Little Sneaky Maze Runner Prompt That Is Not Poetry

Hehe. My friend was over and we decided to write about The Maze Runner. Song: Untitled by Max Leone

I had to keep running, running, running to safety. I could hardly focus, my heart beating widely out of my chest but my feet kept on going, my breaths coming out as gasps. I... the pain was sickening, it pulsed throughout my body, it hurt and hurt and it did not stop.

'Agh' i stumbled, barely gripping the ivy coated wall to steady myself. The pain, it was all I could think about. It was corrupting my body, the blue-black ink seemingly destroying my veins. Corroding them into something inhumane, something that wasn't me. I, I needed my friends. I continued to run.

It was then, when I first caught the glimpse of home, when it happened. My vision blurred and I slumped against the wall, my hands flinging to find a notch on it to hold onto. I could feel myself laying there, the concrete walls felt like ice against my skin. And then I wasn't.

All I could see was blue and black, blue and black. But then there was anger, anger at everything, anger at the world, anger at them. Who were they? My answer came in the people. Such blurry, infuriating people. They seemed to peer into me, jotting notes down on a clipboard and I couldn't handle all this anger so I screamed. Let me out, let me out, I seemed to say. They did not listened.

My anger boiled up and up and up, rising to dangerous temperatures. I felt as if I was going to explode. And then there was a boy. He kept reappearing, tapping on my glass. I think it was glass. He had kind eyes. They glowed a warm auburn brown that almost decreased my hatred for them. And then he was gone again, and the thought resurfaced - why would anybody, anybody, who was there, good. They weren't. I screamed.

I jolted. My body was hot, laying uncomfortably against the Mazes wall. My breaths were erratic and the terror I felt was immense. I clenched my jaw. The white hot anger was still flowing through my veins, it was my anger. I was angry. And I was going to do something about it.

I got up unsteadily, my focus going in and out. My arms and legs and head was sore but I kept moving. I stepped once, again and another. I kept moving forward. Slowly I left this wretched metal maze and entered the glade. I was hungry and angry and nothing was going to stop me. 

I did not know where this hunger came from, when it first appeared, but it was there and it was consuming. I continued inwards. The forests branches scraped against my face, drawing blood. I kept walking. The pain now a dull vibration at the back of my mind. All I could think about was that we were put here, against our choice. This was wrong and now someone had to pay. The hunger arose.

Was it Tim, or Jonny or even Alby. Someone must have known that I was put here. I had lived amongst traitors. Those shucks. I was going to find it out, I'd find it all out. My pain was now forgotten, all there was was anger. At everyone, at the world, and most importantly at these disgusting people. I paused.

What if they didn't know, my mind told me. What if they were innocent and had nothing to do with this. But what if they did. What if I was the only one out of the loop. What if they made fun of me because I didn't know, made me run, made me ignorant. My fingers clenched, I needed to punch someone.

And there he was, the boy from my visions. Or memories. My memories. The boy from behind the glass. He was here. And I was angry. A cry bubbled up from within me, spilling out into the open air as I launched forward. My arms raised to fight. To destroy. To consume. To die.

This was what I came up with. It's about that boy who attacked Thomas when he went into the forest in the first movie.