Sam // The Maze Runner : Scorch Trials-Death Cure

#5 Thank god for Thomas

After around the five months in, they'd taken my jacket from me. As the deal stands, if I co-operate, I can keep the jacket. Except I haven't been doing that. So they took my precious.

Naturally them taking it just caused me to act out more. But I didn't care. WCKD could go suck ass.

A month after the confiscation of the jacket, the announcement was made that this train trip would be the final until we reached the Last City, with a wopping four hour journey.

I decided, sitting in my cell at 3:34 am, to carve my name into the wall underneath the bed in this lab. It worked somewhat with the stone I had found close by.

As I misbehaved, the more of a punishment I got. It got worse the longer it went on. They would hit me, slap me, punch me. One time, I nearly broke my leg by how hard they had kicked me. This was borderline child abuse.
I had a recovering bruised stomach, sort of, just felt like a dull ache, nothing more. It looked worse than it felt. It was just colours. Along with a small black eye and a stitch across my forehead.

I limped over to the crappy plastic mirror, we, I say we but it was more I, weren't allowed proper mirrors as I could break it and use it for self harm. Wonder what made them think I'd do that. Alot of things, probably but mainly, Oh right. They took my frickin jacket!

I took hold of the hem of my jumper and raised it slowly, I glanced over the bruises painted over my body. I grimaced at the thought. They were over my legs too. Along with everything else I was surprised I could even stand.

I heard the buzz of the door opening, turning hazardously and let my sweatshirt fall back into place.

"Time to go." The guard, who, after the six months of him 'guarding' me, I learned was named Paul.

"Last trip until the Last City. Excited?" Paul was sarcastic.

I didn't answer, just glared at him.

He took a few steps back, predicting my movements, tapping the door with the joint of his index finger. Another guard opend the door and started approaching me, I backed up as far as I could, to prevent them capturing me once again. I felt like prey, when cornered and it had nowhere else to go. All it could do was shrink itself and hope to god it hadn't been seen. Unfortunately, I had been. As soon as they latched onto my arms I began thrashing around, yelling profanities, bucking like some scared wild stallion. Even managing to get my left arm fly free forward I had no chance of escape, as quickly as it was free it was secured again.

I looked behind me at the cell they were dragging me out of and noticed the label the cell had 'approach with caution. Asset dangerous.'
In any other situation I would've laughed.

They hauled me out of the room and down to where they were loading up the kids on the train.

I forced myself to calm down but I still felt the surge of adrenaline pumping through me, I used it to tug my arms against theirs.

Janson, after seeing the last of them onto a carriage, sauntered over and, with a smug smirk, planter himself infront of me.
"Nice of you to join us."

I gave him the bitch face. Then, after a moment of thought, as he got closer to my hunched figure, I reared back, spitting right into his stupid face."Asshole." I hissed.

Janson straightened up with what dignity he had left, wiping it away, before reeling back and landing a punch right in the face.

Ouch, rude.

Neither guard beside me moved until Janson told them to get me onto the train. I looked up, feeling blood trickle from my nose and, frankly, my whole face could've been bruised.