[1] Let Me Go ➝ The Maze Runner ✓ (WATTYS 2015 WINNER!)

*Greenie*

*Greenie*

I awoke to something cold and damp being pressed against my forehead; the rough material scratched at my skin, but it still felt somewhat relieving as I realised I was feeling slightly flushed, almost feverish. My eyes blinked open, and a groan escaped my parted lips.

"Hey, greenie."

My eyebrows creased into a frown. Where was I? Who was talking? I recognised the voice, but I couldn't remember to whom it belonged. Nor could I see, for my vision was swimming.

Vague images fluttered amongst my sight, and gradually cleared to form a scene, though not much of one. I was laying on my back in some kind of cot, staring up at a bland ceiling. Either side of me was a chair and a table, with a simple light stand. Turning my thumping head slightly, I saw that on one chair was that boy from earlier; Newt. He was holding a damp cloth, and his eyes were glazed with genuine concern.

"You feeling alright?"

All I was able to offer was another groan, as the words for lodged in my throat. I tried not to stare at him for long, but he was too damn adorable. Did he really care about me?

"I... I th-think so," I gasped, struggling to hold myself on my elbows. I wobbled slightly, but managed to sit up and glance about the room. It was slightly shabby, with a rickety table and another chair in the far corner, and a simple door in the other; cracked slightly, as if it had been slammed with force multiple times before.

Newt waved a glass of water in front of my face, and I gingerly took it from his hand, sipping lightly from it. I welcomed the cool liquid as it sloshed down my throat, relieving it of its dryness

"Thanks," I whispered, handing the empty glass back to him. He nodded and leaned back, studying me.

"What is this place?" I managed to ask after a few minutes of silence.

Newt stirred and sighed. "You're in the homestead. It's where we keep the injured. Sometimes sleep in here too."

The injured?!

"What happened to me?" I inquired, remembering the sudden dizziness before I blacked out.

"You passed out, just after you entered the Glade. Brought you here and four hours later you're awake." He shrugged his shoulders impassively, all concern diminished from his gaze. Perhaps my hopeful imagination had conjured that up. He probably couldn't care less about me. I glanced questioningly at the cloth and bowl of water.

"You had a slight fever. The med-jacks were too busy with other patients, so I offered to stay with you. Nothing better to do," he added hastily, and I glanced at him with passing incredulity. Was that just an excuse to stay with me? Or was he telling the truth?

"Okay. So what now?"

His shoulders rose in a shrug again, and he sat up. "That depends."

"On what?"

"What you know. Tell me, greenie, what do you remember?"

What do I remember?

The dream! Holy grievers, the dream! Was it real?

I involuntarily raised a hand and began probing around my scalp, looking for a scar. And to my horror, I found one. A thin protrusion along my skin, underneath my mass of dark hair. No, they couldn't have! They... they cut me open!?

I gasped, my eyes welling with tears.

"What is it?" Newt was incredulous, perplexed by my sudden behaviour as I began to cry through clasped fingers.

"They experimented on me," I gasped through muffled sobs. "They experimented on my brain!"