My eyes open to darkness. Complete blackness, a vacuum, a void of pure blindness. I shoot straight up from my seat on a cold, hard surface and release a scream.
Through the darkness, I feel movement. Upwards. Whatever cruel contraption that I have been contained in was moving upwards, carrying my body with it.
Mountains of questions swirl through my groggy brain.
Where am I? Who am I? Who put me here? Why am I here? Where am I going? Why can't I remember anything?
That last question sends me into panic. I don't know who I am. I have no idea who my parents are, my friends, where I came from. Nothing.
I'm breathing faster now. Practically hyperventilating. Silent tears slip down my cheeks. I have to remember.
I know everything else that you could know; riding a bike with my friends, laughter, sunburns, car rides, cold winter air, homemade pumpkin pie, and everything else you could imagine, but it seemed as though everything personal and unique to me had been wiped.
I thought hard, trying to remember something. Anything. In turn, by brain gave me something: Amy. My name was Amy.
I felt around. The box felt metal, and was consistently moving up. Would it ever stop?
Then, seemingly right on cue, it did. The box came to an abrupt stop, and, instinctively, I jumped.
Loud, jarring noises erupted from above me and I brought my gaze upward. The box began to open, bright, blinding sunlight replacing the pitch blackness. I squinted as I looked up, dozens of faces staring down upon me.
"It's a girl!" One of them yelled.
"Is she hot?" Another chimed in.
"What's she look like?"
"I call dibs!"
"No way! That's not fair!"
Commotion broke out amongst the foreign people, who continued the staring, looking stunned, as though I was an alien species beyond their wildest dreams.
"Shut your holes," a deep voice shouted out, breaking the commotion. "None of you shanks is callin' dibs on her, or touchin' her at all for that matter. We'll do with her what we do with everyone else," it said.
A face came through the center of the rest, the source of the voice.
He was dark-skinned, with broad, muscular shoulders and a face that showed that he meant business.
He looked down at me and said "We'll throw a rope down for you. Put your foot through the loop and we'll pull you up."
I nodded numbly and he threw the rope down as he had said. I stood slowly and put my foot through the rope-loop as I had been instructed.
Then I felt myself being pulled higher until finally I reached the top. The dark-skinned boy offered his hand and he pulled me the rest of the way out of the metallic prison.
My legs felt like jello beneath me the second I stood and I tumbled down onto soft, green grass, earning chuckles and snickers from the crowd.
I hastily pulled myself to my feet, embarrassed.
"You remember anything?" He asked.
"Just my name," I said. "It's Amy. Where am I?" I asked the dark-skinned boy softly. He looked about 18 or so. I had to tilt my head up to see his face.
"Welcome to the Glade, greenie." He said.
Greenie? What did that mean?
"What?" I muttered. What did that mean?
"This here is the Glade." Glade? Greenie?
I wanted to ask what "greenie" and "glade" meant, but I was afraid that the dark-skinned boy would think I was stupid.
"I'm Alby," he told me. "You'll learn everything slowly, piece by piece. I'll take you on a tour of the place. No questions till the end, got it?" I nodded and he continued.
"This here is the Glade," he said, gesturing to the vast area that we were in the center of. "It's where we live. We call ourselves Gladers."
Surrounding the Glade were four huge stone walls with openings on each one. I wanted to know what the heck that was all about, but I remembered him telling me to save my questions for the end.
Then, as if he had read my mind, he said "Out there's the Maze. Don't go out there." He replied firmly.
"Why?" I pressed, ignoring his no-questions rule.
"I told you no questions till the end, shuck-face," He snapped at me. Shuck-face? I knew it sounded like an insult, but what exactly did it mean?
He took me through the rest of the Glade, beginning from the Box, where I came up from, which was in the center of the Glade. Supplies were delivered in it weekly and a new "greenie" monthly.
From there, he explained to me that the Glade was divided into four sections; the Bloodhouse, where the animals are raised and then slaughtered, the Gardens, where the crops are grown, the Deadheads, a forest with a graveyard and the Homestead, where everyone sleeps. Or are supposed to, anyway.
Alby said that most of the Gladers just slept outside. He explained to me that everyone had a job and that I would try out for all of them over the next two weeks to find out what worked.
And with that, he left me on my own. I wandered aimlessly, unsure of what to do or where to go. Everyone else seemed so focused on their job, they seemed so useful.
I didn't fit in at all. Breaking me from my thoughts, a tall, blonde boy who I recognized from earlier approached me.
"You look kind of lost," he chuckled, his voice laced with an accent. "Name's Newt," he said, extending his hand for me to shake.
"I'm Amy," I said, my anxiety of this place slowly melting off of me with Newt's friendliness.
"Well Amy, how's life in the Glade been treatin' ya?" He asked, to which I replied with a shrug. He chuckled at that and spoke again.
"Alby doesn't want ya sleepin' in with the rest of the Gladers, so you'll sleep on the top floor of the Homestead, where Alby and I sleep."
I nodded. "Okay. Thank you," I said to Newt. He seemed nicer than Alby, and more eager to actually help me, and I appreciated it.
"Come on," he said. "I'll show you to it." I followed him to the Homestead and he lead me inside and up a flight of stairs to what I assumed to be the top floor.
Then he took me into one of the rooms, which I presumed to be his.
It was small, just as all of the others were, with a hammock in the corner and a small desk and chair on the wall opposite of the door, papers littering the surface.
"You can sleep here," he said, gesturing to the hammock. "I'll just be next door, if you need me. Oh, and I think that this is for you," he said, handing me a small, black bag, which kind of resembled a mini duffle bag.
"Thank you," I said genuinely, looking up to smile at him.
"You're welcome," he responded. "Goodnight." Then he shut the door and left.
I set my bag on the hammock to examine its contents. On the top was a small slip of paper that read "Amy."
I set the note aside and unzipped the bag, peering inside. On the top, was a toothbrush, a tiny tube of toothpaste, a travel-sized hair comb, and a small deodorant.
And the most important of the toiletries, an unlabeled box of tampons. This had me relieved, as I was worried that they wouldn't have any supplies, being a group consisting of only boys.
Underneath of that, were three t-shirts and three pairs of Capri-length pants. Rolled up within these, were an extra pair of socks, two pairs of underwear and a nude, cotton bra.
I stuffed everything back into the bag and zipped it to its close.
How could I make it with just one bra? I wondered. Wait a minute. Was I wearing a bra? I hadn't really taken the time to wonder what I had looked like or examine my clothing.
I made a mental note to ask Newt what I looked like in the morning.
I felt along my chest and confirmed that I was already wearing a bra. I guessed that I was also wearing underwear.
I peered down at my feet to find myself wearing socks with simple tan boots. I unlaced them and set them aside along with the bag.
Then, before I went to sleep, I removed the bra I wore and put it into the bag, setting it under the hammock.
Then I laid down and slipped into a sleep that was, unfortunately, anything but peaceful.