1. FIGHTER - the maze runner, newt

Chapter 12

      "Stop thinking." I told myself.

That's probably the sixth time I told myself that.

The images of Ben kept popping up into my mind.

The way he watched Thomas and I cower away.

Shut up.

The way he screamed at us whenever we tried to reason.

Shut. Up.

The way he attacked us like we were deer and he was a hungry hunter.

SHUT UP!

The way he got himself killed to prove us as a danger to everyone.

I pulled the pillow out from below my head and slammed it into my face.

We killed him.

I screamed into the pillow once.

We killed someone who probably had friends.

I screamed louder.

We killed someone who could've had a family.

I screamed even louder, stomping my feet.

We killed Ben!

We killed a boy who was too young to die!

I screamed into the pillow so loud, that I'm pretty sure it echoed through the Maze.

But that was his decision. A voice said into my head.

I sat up quickly, quieting myself down and tried listening to everything around.

Who said that?

I didn't think that, did I? I thought to myself.

The voice sounded familiar. It calmed me how familiar the voice was. I had the same calm sensation occur the first night in Glade. As questions rang through my head, one was louder than the rest;

Am I crazy or did the voice sound feminine?

Before I could further my inquiry of questions to myself, Newt bursted through the door looking panicked. His deep brown eyes flickered around the room until they landed on my curled form.

"Ame...what's wrong? Why're you tryin' to wake the buggin' dead?" Newt asked in one breath.

I stared at a crevice in the wood of the wall in front of me as I answered with a blank look, "Do you think if I scream loud enough, I can wake Ben from the dead so he could be able to live a life?"

I spoke extremely quiet. I think Newt had to go over my words a couple of times before finally understanding.

Newt sighed sadly before walking over to my figure. He sat down next to my sleep bag, babying his bad leg.

I still haven't asked Newt about his leg, and I don't think I will. I figured that if I wanted to know why Newt limped and favoured his leg, Newt would tell me himself. It's his choice. I didn't want to ask. Who knows...maybe there's a story behind it that could bring great misery to his mind. I know I wouldn't want to be reminded of a bad time.

Once Newt was settled beside me, he looked a little awkward and a undecided. His hands played with each other as he opened and closed his mouth, trying to come up with something to say.

I smirked slightly as I continued to stare in front of me, "Y'know, this would be the part where you would comfort me."

I heard him awkwardly chuckle as he scooted closer to me. And ever-so cautiously, he lifted his arm and wrapped it around my form. Newt pulled me into his side, keeping his hand on my arm.