Switched

Who am I?

                         Thomas P.O.V
I don't know where I am, I'm in someone's house and, oh! I'm naked. Wait hold up, I'm wearing boxers, phew. Wait, why am I wearing boxers? Sliding the bedsheets off my legs, I get up. While on my way to turn on the lights, I notice something in the mirror. Staring back at my reflection, I run my hands through my hair, my longer hair.

"What.."

I collapse on the ground, images begin flashing through my head. Ones of a blonde kid. Newt. An Asian with really good hair. Minho. Grievers. The glade. A bright light erupts behind my eyes, and I begin to hear cries of anguish. Gut wrenching sobs. My sobs. I faintly hear a door open, but it feels like my own imagination. I feel as if my head is about ready to explode. Someone wraps their arm around my shoulders and the throbbing slows to a steady beat.

"Stiles are you okay? What happened?"

I search the face of the voice, a man around his 40's stares back at me. His caramel eyes are comforting, they remind me of Newt's.

"What?"

That seems to be the only thing I can say.

A line appears between his brows, "You were screaming. Sounded like you were being tortured."

I stare down at my shaking hands, blood coats the creases in my palms where I had dug my fingernails into them.

"Who's Stiles?"

The man looks at me with a worried expression, fear even. "Go back to bed sport, school starts in an hour."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I sit on the bleachers outside of Beacon Hills High School, watching as unfamiliar faces play lacrosse.

"Come on Stiles, we're gonna—"

"Stop calling me that! My names, Thomas."

The boy named Liam scratches his head, "Sheriff Stilinski said you hit your head last night, but I didn't know you hit it this hard."

I stare at him in disbelief, "I didn't—"

He's already gone before I can finish my sentence. Sighing, I follow him into the school. A girl with short brown hair links her arm with mine, she leans in, I think she's going to kiss me. Surprised, I take a step back, she goes tumbling towards the ground but I catch her before she can fall.

"What the hell, Stiles?" she mutters, rubbing her elbow.

"He hit his head last night, and now he's calling himself Thomas," Liam magically appears next to me, fiddling with the strap on his backpack.

The girl's brow furrows, "Thomas?"

"Yes, Thomas! I'm from the maze," I madly flap my arms in the air, foolishly trying to get them to understand.

"The maze? Like Thomas from, The Maze Runner?" Liam scoffs, sticking his hands in his hoodie, "Dude, I thought you got over that obsession last month. Now you're pretending to be one of the characters? I mean, I thought you'd role play Minho—"

He grunts as brunette elbows him in the side, "Shut up, Liam."

"You're not Stiles."

I jump, swiveling around. A red head stares back at me, "Where are you all coming from?!"

She takes a step closer, "That's not important. What's important is who you are. And where's Stiles? Because I know him, and you're not him."

"I don't know! I don't even know where I am, or who you think I am," I can feel my hands beginning to shake, "I—I just have to get out of here."

I shove Liam aside, and make my way towards the doors. Once outside, I slide down the side of the wall, wrapping my arms around my legs while I rest my chin on my knees.

Who am I?

^>^<^>^<^>^<^>^<^>^<^>^<^>

I'm really proud of this chapter so I hope you guys like it. Don't forget to vote and comment, thanks >)