Fog In the Memory • TMR Book 1

Chapter 4

I've been leaning against this tree for probably several minutes, to overwhelmed to move. A metallic clicking sound from some branches above me grabs my attention; a flash of silver and red catches my eye before disappearing around, out of sight.

"That was one of them beetle blades," a voice growing voice says.

Turning to my right, I notice a short pudgy boy standing nearby, staring at me. He's young- maybe twelve or thirteen. His curly brown hangs down over his ears and part of his neck while his blue eyes shine through his pitiful, flabby face. I tilt my head, giving the boy a confused look.

"Beetle blade," he says again, "Won't hurt ya unless you're stupid enough to touch one. Shank."

I could sense a bit of uneasiness in his voice as he said the last word, as if he hasn't quite grasped the slang of the Glade.

"My name's Chuck. I was the Greenbean until you showed up."

This is my guide for the night? He seems alright.

"Why are people calling me Greenbean?" I ask with a bit of curiosity.

"Cuz you're the newest newbie," Chuck laughs as he points at me.

I look away, trying to prevent myself from crying despite the tears ready to flow, and I'm having second thoughts about Chuck; maybe I should just go find Newt. Glancing over my shoulder, I see Chuck attempting to give me a reassuring smile. I sigh and walk over, giving him a hug.

 It's frustrating remembering how the world generally works, but not the specifics. My memory is like a book where it has most of the words and despite words missing making it difficult to read. And if that isn't hard enough, the parts that are readable aren't capable of being understood. I know the basics of life, but there are pieces missing and I have no idea how I know some things; for example: my age.

"Chuck, how old do you think I am?"

The young boy looks at me for a minute of two. "I'd say you're fifteen. And in case you are wondering, five foot three... with auburn hair and green eyes. Oh, and quite pretty if you ask me."

I blush a bit and then it hits me. Fifteen? I feel older than that. The shocked look on my face must've made Chuck grin.

"Don't worry; you'll be whacked for a couple days, but then you'll get used to it. Well, at least I have, and it's better than living in a pile of klunk. Klunk's another word for poo since it makes a klunk sound when it falls in the pee pots."

I scrunch up my nose and cringe in disgust, wishing he hadn't told me that especially since I didn't need to know that last part. I push myself up against the tree and walk past Chuck, heading towards what looks like a garden. There's various trees, fruits, vegetables...

"What's your name?" Chuck asks me from behind, interrupting my thoughts.

"What?"

"Your name. You still haven't told us- and I know that you know that much."

"Eliza. My name is Eliza."