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before you read:

fair warning, this book was written in 2014-2015 so there will be some cringey parts and i am sorry for that. please stick around because i promise it gets better!

Disclaimer:

I do not own The Maze Runner, but I do own Dylan and all the scenes in which you want to strangle yourself because of how cute she and Newt are.

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When I finally came to, I realized a headache was the source of my waking. It was near unbearable, almost like my skull was being drilled and would soon split in two. I kept my eyes squeezed shut and let out a groan that was barely audible through the overpowering sound of metal grinding against metal.

Once I had gotten used to the throbbing in my head, I opened my eyes and was met with almost complete darkness. I looked around as well as I could until my eyes adjusted to the extreme lack of light. It seemed I was in a box - no, elevator - and was moving upward toward a destination that was unknown to me.

Another thing that occurred to me was that I had no memory. The only sure things implanted in my brain were that I was alive, I was in an elevator, and moving up. To where, I had no clue. I realized with a start that I didn't know my own name. My memories were faint and faceless; I could remember school but not who taught me, and friends whose images were blurred. It only increased my growing state of panic.

A groan sounded from the corner of the box, startling me when I realized I wasn't alone. My eyes flickered to the source and adjusted even further so I could barely make out the outline of a boy standing in the center of the box. A sudden, violent shudder caused him to slam to the ground with a thud that sounded painful enough to make me cringe.

"You okay?" I asked him, my voice hoarse from lack of use. I started crawling toward him but he jumped back in fright, sliding to the corner of the box and tucking his knees to his chest. I chuckled. "Hey, I'm not gonna hurt you or anything."

He squinted to see me, his eyes seemingly black in the inky darkness. His hair looked black as well and stuck to his forehead in the plainest manner imaginable. His skin was pale as anything, with a thin layer of sweat layering his face that made it appear shiny. It seemed to me that he was a decent height- his legs were long and lanky. He looked roughly fifteen or sixteen.

The boy stopped squinting as his eyes got used to the darkness. He relaxed upon realizing that I was just as confused as he was and meant no harm. His throat cleared with a rumble.

"Yeah, I'm okay," he replied, his voice higher than I expected, which took me by surprise. It had a slight croak to it as well from apparent lack of use.

"You sure? You fell pretty hard," I observed as I inched closer. When he didn't flinch or shoo me away that time, I sat about half a foot away from him and leaned against the wall next to the one he was sitting by. Our knees were almost touching.

The boy nodded. "I'm fine." He paused and his nose scrunched up like he was deep in thought. Several seconds passed before he said anything else, filled only with the annoying screech of metal. "Hold on. Do you have any memory?"

I shook my head and felt disturbed that he didn't remember anything either. It unsettled me even more than I already was- had we been injured? Was a strong blow to our heads the cause of the amnesia? Thinking about it caused a sharp pain to shoot through my deeply aching skull until I winced. "No, nothing. You?"

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