Error | The Maze Runner / Newt ² ✓

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Disclaimer:

I do not own The Maze Runner, but if I did, no one would have died and the Gladers would all just be one big, happy family.

-✼-

I decided I hated the colors in the building. They sent a false sense of cheerfulness that wasn't there. They gave personality to a place that was dead. I loathed the bright, lemon-yellow shade of the walls, the green curtains, and every other speck of color that was lively. As crazy as it was, I missed the dull colors of the Glade. At least they matched our moods.

The bright hues contradicted everything we felt inside. Hollow eyes glanced around every corner in fear that something would jump out. Throughout the course of the day, people got weaker. Their shoulders drooped the tiniest of bits. Slivers of hope disappeared from their eyes. Fear was a constant emotion- fear for tomorrow, fear that we'd never escape, fear that our next move would cause everything to crash down upon us. Everyone trod lightly.

In all honesty, I'd rather stay in the Glade for the rest of my life than spend it trapped in that building. Take out the unquenchable thirst for knowledge, the Grievers, and throw in a few more girls, and we could have made a nice little community. At least we'd had resources. We'd smiled at each other and laughed.

That night, before we went to sleep, everyone took turns taking showers. We all had a maximum of five minutes per person. Since Aris had already taken one the night before, he was out of the question. Hot water was scarce and everyone wanted to rinse themselves off.

Each time a Glader finished, he ran out exclaiming how there was a mirror inside the bathroom. It didn't really strike me as odd until I realized that I had never seen myself before. Newt, Minho, and the others who had come up first hadn't seen themselves in years.

I anxiously waited, sighing at the lines in front of both bathroom doors. Thomas and I had offered to be the last ones to shower, but that idea was slowly beginning to prove itself stupid rather than kind. The anticipation to see myself was chewing up my insides.

The time finally came. The last boy came out wearing fresh pajamas and towel-drying his wet hair. I nearly pushed him aside and ran into the bathroom, almost slipping on the wet tile. The room was humid from the steam of the shower, causing the mirror to be fogged up so thickly I couldn't see a thing behind it. There was a single towel on the counter left for me. I picked it up and slowly wiped away the fog until a clear patch revealed my face.

I was surprised. Chuck's initial description of me had been extremely vague, and had painted a false image of myself in my mind. I imagined plain brown hair with muddy eyes, or Thomas with longer hair. That wasn't right at all. My hair was dark, the same shade as my brother's, and ended just at my chest. My eyes were wide and curious like how I remembered my mother's to be in my memories. My nose curved upward like a slope. I noticed everything at once, like the clear expression of shock on my face that made my mouth drop slightly.

Then I started to see the darker details. I had a dried cut just to the left of my eye, one on my jaw, and another across my cheek. My eyes held a strange emotion that I couldn't depict. My hair was wild and unbrushed from the battle with the Grievers. Patches of dirt were stained on my cheeks and nose, which made my skin appear darker. I looked like I had come out of a war.

Sighing, I turned on the water and took my shower. The water was getting cold from all the people that had used it, but I didn't mind. The soap and hair products smelled like absolutely nothing. It was probably the best shower I remembered having, considering the ones at the Glade sucked. The water pressure was much better and the shower head didn't leak. I felt much safer knowing that the curtain had no chance of falling on me.