I didn't know what I was really doing most of the time. It may have seemed like I did but to be completely honest with myself...
I ran head first into a war I didn't know anything about, without a thought in my head except to save those who saved m...
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One by one, the Gladers jumped into the Hole.
Their sore grunts and painful groans echoed across the large concrete crevice as their feet left the floor and their bodies disappeared behind the metallic jaws of the Griever Hole.
I was the last one to jump, wanting to ensure that everybody got through alright.
Watching the last boy jump through, I had to restrain myself from looking back. I knew if I turned to look at the aftermath of the war, I will, without a doubt, burst into gut-wrenching sobs...again.
I took a deep breath.
Teetering backwards, I ignored the tingle rolling up my spine as the ghosts of the Maze eyed my retreating form carefully.
"Just one more jump." I whispered encouragingly to myself, pumping my legs in place.
I prepared for a running start, having no desire to fall to my death. How ironic would it be that after I survived a battle with actual monsters and machines that I just fell off the Cliff?
My clumsy ass would...so I did a running start.
A momentous moment really. The last time I ran in the Maze was to escape—to find freedom.
"C'mon, Ame!" I puffed out, rolling my nervous shoulders, "One...two...three!"
I pushed myself forward, cutting through the stale dark air with heavy limbs and a heavy heart. I sprinted closer to the Cliff, my arms pumping at my side as I gained as much momentum as I could.
Then, as I neared the edge, I jumped—propelling myself forwards in a strained leap. The moment my feet lifted off the concrete, I soared with an unladylike grunt.
The dull twilight disappeared with a blink as my flying form sunk into the Griever Hole, swallowed down its chilling dark throat. The whole atmosphere transformed into that of an icy cave, my body immediately shuddering as a gust of frosty wind welcomed my weak and battered form like a sudden brick wall.
My flight was transient before landing with an aching whine, my feet burning at impact.
"Son of a shucking slinthead!" I muttered in angry pain, rubbing my sore legs as a string of pent-up curses whistled out my explicit mouth, "Shucking bullklunk with this shucking Hole and the stupid shucking Grievers and their stupid shucking hideout..."
Hideout.
Glancing upwards, like I just remembered I was in a Griever's home, I was met with darkness.
