When We're Older- The Maze Runner (Newt)

spiky hair

   A couple of hours later, I had made my way back to the Homestead in search of a chubby little boy. I had explored and talked to Newt, who introduced me to the boy in the blue hoodie. I almost pronounced his name wrong, but I'm glad I didn't, because it would have sounded like a zit instead of Zart.

   He told me that I could wander around as long as I didn't get in anyone's way or went beyond the walls. I nodded, annoyed, but I obliged anyway.

   For a while, I just sat in front of the doors, looking through the long corridor and wandering what it would be like to just sprint through it. I could feel dozens of eyes on me, watching just in case I decided to make a dash for it. Maybe I would have. But something held me back. I don't know if it was just my conscience or my common sense...but something told me that I couldn't just leave these boys behind while I made my way to safety. Or death. That little voice inside my head kept arguing with itself, making unjust reasons as to why I had to stay here. None of them were worthy enough, but the other voice kept holding me back.

   I wondered about what the Dark Days were that Alby had briefly spoken about. I believed him for sure, there weren't strange names scraped off of the wall for nothing. I came across those as I wandered around the walls, dragging my hand against the concrete as if I was looking for a clue somewhere. But I found nothing. One thing I did come across though, was a strange type of graveyard. I studied the names of the boys that had mysteriously passed, but I almost jumped out of my skin when I came across bones in a glass box, covered with ivy. I looked at the bones inside, noticing how there were only half. Half of a boy was stuffed inside a glass box, basically on display. But I kept walking away from the disturbing scene, reminding myself to ask Chuck about it later.

   Now, I pushed open the door to the Homestead with a sigh, hearing my stomach rumble, and my head swirl with a plethora of newfound questions from my exploration. Frypan looked up from his chopping and waved at me with a smile. When I didn't see Chuck anywhere, I made my way over to the cook, feeling hungry just looking at the food.

   "Hey." I muttered while leaning on the small counter. "Whatcha makin'?"

   Frypan chuckled and scooped a handful of chopped carrots from his cutting board and dumping them into a large pot. "Stew. For dinner."

   "Fancy." I pursed my lips. "What do you usually make? Like how long does it take you?"

   "A couple of hours." He muttered. "The day's almost over so they guys'll be starvin'."

   I nodded in understanding. Hell, I didn't even do anything all day and I was starving. I stood upon the tips of my toes and tried to peer into the pot, seeing all that he had put in there. But the more I tried to see it, the more my toes ached from holding my body up.

   "What's in there?" I asked him, motioning to the steel.

   He raised his eyebrows and glanced up at me from the potatoes he was now peeling. "Carrots, celery, chicken...you know, the normal stuff."

   Pursing my lips, I gave him an approving nod. "Nice. 'M excited to try it. Do you need any help? I think I've done all the exploring I can do in a lifetime. Even if there's not much to explore here.."

   Frypan chuckled, but shook his head. "Nah. I'm almost done anyway. Do you need me to make you something?"

   "Well duh." I finally gave up my polite act. "That's sorta the whole reason I came in here...That and to find Chuck."