1. FIGHTER - the maze runner, newt

Chapter 42

   Ivory Black - Oliver Riot  

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          The stale silence gave me a headache. No one spoke. They were too afraid their whispers would fracture their version of reality and uncover the nightmares which may be held captive within our memories. No one could make eye contact as everyone processed the information Thomas carried. No one could respond as each and every heart within the room shattered into shards of anxiety and hopelessness.

Tears gathered in a few eyes while everyone paled. The information was too real for us. Not even Minho could come up with a sarcastic comment to lighten the blow. Out of panic and curiosity, my mouth opened with a painful gap spewing slow questions I didn't really want the answers to anymore.

"Just...slow down a second'," My voice wavered, acting as an alarm to the disheartened Keepers, "Everyone in Glade was taken by W.I.C.K.E.D. as kids because of something really bad happened in the world that you can't remember? We're all a bunch of geniuses raised by scientists and grew up in special schools, lived semi-ordinary lives until the day we were sent into the Maze? Which is one giant experiment to test our reactions and responses to these 'Variables' quite literally thrown at us?"

My eyes lifted from the spot on the floor I've been staring at before making eye contact with my brother who stood in the circle of Keepers, trembling with anxiety. My peripheral vision caught the eyes of multiple Keepers gazing at me, their eyes trying to penetrate my stern walls. My gaze fell to the floor briefly before centering themselves onto the brown-haired boy in front of me.

"Yeah. That's exactly what I'm saying." Thomas swallowed, his eyes falling along with his sagging shoulders.

"So, taking our memories was for another one of these 'Variables'? To get a reaction? They left our brains empty for that?" Minho seethed quietly.

"They at least left our names alone." Jeff grumbled, his brows furrowed.

I watched Thomas' shoulders stiffen at the mention of our names. He sucked his bottom lip in between his lip, his eyes falling.

Noticing his crestfallen expression, an awful sensation crawled over my pale skin. I pushed myself from the post I was standing against, glancing to my side where Newt sat. Newt looked up at me with severe concern as he too noticed Thomas' deflating hope.

"What?" The word whisked out from my mouth like a bullet.

Thomas lifted his eyes to me again, his lips quivering as the truth shivered his veins. Briefly his homey, brown eyes gave me a sense of peace before shattering my reality with his words.

"Our names...all of our names are just stupid nicknames they made up - like Alby for Albert Einstein, Newt for Isaac Newton...," Thomas returned his chilling gaze to me as sympathy rolled from his frown, "Ame for Amelia Earhart, and me - Thomas. As in Edison." Thomas couldn't look at anyone in the eye as the news froze each Glader like a layer of frost.

My knees felt wobbly at the understanding that my name was not my name. Steadying myself on Newt's shoulder, I felt my heart sink through the floor as I began to feel nauseous. If my name wasn't "Ame", then what is? It could be "Amy" from my dreams, but it just doesn't feel right. Hell, nothing feels right. My right hand found my hip, as I continued to stare at Thomas. Whatever he had inside his head, I just wanted it out with so I can deal with it all in one go.

"Our names...these ain't even our real names?" Alby breathed out, looking just about as crestfallen as the rest of us.

"As far as I can tell, we'll probably never know what our real names were." Thomas shrugged defeatedly.