forgotten│the maze runner

t h i r t e e n

Suejin could not sleep.

Around—God knows what time—in the early hours, she sat in front of the West Door, clutching her knees to her chest. She stared forward, eyes lifeless and empty.

I will not cry, I will not cry, I will not cry—she chanted nonstop in her mind. Her body started to shake, and she bit her lips hard.

She was so tired. Tired of losing her friends to the damn Maze. First Ben, and now three others. Her fingers twitched restlessly, and she started to bit her nails as an anxious attempt to calm herself.

Minho, she thought sadly, regretting every harsh word she had spoken to him. If she had only known that this morning would be the last time she would ever see him. Guilt stabbed at her heart, remembering the desperate look in his eyes crying out to her. His limp form flashed in her mind, how helpless he had looked dragging Alby with all his strength, only to be led to his death. She wondered if he died cursing her; then maybe—she bit her lower lip again—maybe, she should've run in.

She thought of Thomas, his genuine determination to become a Runner, the hope she had felt when he had spoke to her earlier that day—

That hope died with him.

Was there any hope anymore? She asked herself. The Leader of this Glade, the best Runner by far, and the Greenie who offered the only hope Suejin thought they had—they were most likely dead by now.

How would they survive? How could any of them move on from this?

The thought of her friends being killed by Grievers made her want to run in there at the crack of dawn.

We may never find the way out. She thought miserably.

"Suejin." She looked up. It was Newt. She stared at him with wide eyes. He looked absolutely miserable. He came and sat beside her, eyes red rimmed and bloodshot. He had been crying. "What are you doing out here?"

"Can't sleep," she said, voice strained and hoarse. "I can't stop thinking about them, who the hell knows if they're already—" she halted, feeling the tears catch in her throat again. Choking on her words, she continued, "Newt, I feel like I'm going insane."

He gave her a sad nod. "I understand bloody well. More than you realize."

"Is there any chance," she whispered in a dismal tone, already knowing the answer. "That they might make it out?"

Newt shook his head sadly. "Like I said, no one's ever survived a night in the Maze."

"Right. Never ever." She said dejectedly. "Newt?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever seen one?"

"A Griever?"

She nodded, getting chills from the name. "I just wonder sometimes, how horrible they actually are—"

"You don't want to know." He said abruptly. "They're bloody terrifying, Suejin."

"I don't remember who, it wasn't one of the Runners, they had mentioned seeing one before." She thought out loud. "But how could anyone see a Griever if they haven't been stung?"

Newt didn't respond, but Suejin could tell he had the answers.

"What is it?"

He sighed. "This doesn't seem like the best time to—"

"Please." She said, voice cracking a little. "At this point Newt? After all we've seen?"

Suejin could feel his turmoil, but he stood up slowly, extending his hand. "Follow me then."