Alex | Maze Runner | Newt

Prologue Rewritten - Part 1

So this bit is rewritten of the prologue

(There is a touchy subject in this. You have been warned. Then again you might already know if you've read the books.)

I had been in the Glade for almost 3 months now. I'd had plenty of time to adjust to the system and we've had decent progress for the past month straight.

We were awaiting the arrival of the box. It was coming up to a month and the constant buzz around the glade meant the gladers were antsy to meet the new greenie, fact was that he should be sent up any time this week. We like being prepared, so we'd set up a bed and a chair had been made and placed in the dining hall for who ever comes up. Usually, box comes up, Alby helps me with the doors, I hop down and introduce them, Alby gives the tour of the place we've learned to call home. It's what we're accustomed to.

Bouncing a blue plastic ball against the ground and catching it, my head leant on the table, I sat disastrously bored in the Med-jack shack. If you could call ten sticks and a blanket over it a shack. I huffed, earning a side - eyed glare from Jeff, who was wrapping a bandage around our regular Slicer, who in fairness had about four other fingers wrapped in white. He hissed through his teeth and ignored the rythmic bouncing.

Jeff heard it first. His head lifted immediately at the wailing of the siren. Kain next, when he noticed Jeff had become quite unfocused. Then me. My ball bounced off the ground, almost hitting me in the chin on it's rebound. I stood almost instantly. Finally, something good is happening.

I pushed passed the fabric door, not bothering to hold it open for the other two. As I got closer and closer, the louder the siren got and the more I needed to know who and what was arriving. I suppose some of the others were eager too, already gathered around the box, wanting to collect their designated supplies and get on with their assigned tasks. Or, on the other hand. Some were less excited. Dragging their feet to a lethargic rhythm, hoping they weren't the poor sod baby sitting the new guy for the next week and a half.

I met with Alby at the entrance of the box. His head followed me as I joined his side, no acknowledgement of my arrival other than a small grunt. He nodded his head to the other side of the box and I made my way around it, grasping the handle on the other side and heaving the lid to the shaft, the boys on the side taking hold of the doors for the better chance of getting a proper look.

Inside the box, like every other month that'd I'd been here, was a boy. He was barely noticeable at first, hidden behind the pig box. He dug his face into his knees, which were closed up to his chest, to shy away from the harsh light caused by the midday sun. His breath hitched, chest huffing and puffing like some thirsty dog. My brows furrowed at the sight of him, like a wounded animal feigning his death.

The boy looked no older than thirteen, his hair blonde and matted, the ears that stuck out underneath a bright pink that seemed to fade in colour the longer the heat hit his exposed body. His clothes were brief. His trousers barely reached his ankles and the shirt he was wearing was clean, but raised up his back slightly as he hunched over even further.

I sighed at the sound of snickering, rolling my eyes at the immaturity of the others, deciding they'd had their fun and there was no point in giving the guy you'll be staying with for who knows how long another reason to hate you.

"Alright, you miserable shanks, shows over," I chanced a glance at Alby, who halfed a smile and nodded. At the sight of none of the boys moving, I sucked my teeth. "I said Move it!" I barked, the boys jumped in unison, scurrying away from the entrance of the box. "Lads," I turned over my shoulder to a couple of young boys who'd started the chuckle-fest, who froze like deer in the head light. " you have jobs to do, I suggest you do them. And do them right first time." They've been slacking. I thought for a moment, crossing my arms as an idea initiated a punishment. "When we're good 'n gone, get everyone's stuff out and deliver it."