The violent shaking and rattling of the box messes with my sense of balance. I do not remember anything before this box. In an overwhelming way, I fear that there may never be anything but this quaking metal cage, determined to knock me off my feet. There is no light. No noise either. Just the creaking of this stupid, creepy, metal contraption. I hate it. I hate who did this to me. With all of my power, I will this earthquake to end. Or at least, let me remember something. Anything. In frustration, I bang my fists against the cool, metal wall. What is driving me insane more? The incessant rattling and darkness of this box? Or the fact that I remember nothing?
Suddenly, all motion stops. There's no more creaking, just a gentle sway as the box steadies itself, after what feels like a lifetime of moving. Without warning, light spills in from a tiny crack at the top of the box. It hurts my eyes. But at the same time, I don't think I've ever been happier to see beautiful light. The crack at the top of the box grows, until it stops completely, leaving a generous amount of space for me to leave. If I wasn't so motion sick, I could climb out of this torturous place. Two sets of grubby arms thrust through the opening and grope for something. I'm sure that they're going to attack me. I scooch the whole way to the back of the box, further into the remaining darkness. Through the glare of the harsh sun, I see a head pop into view. It's a boy; his hair blond hair is tousled, the look on his face is utter confusion.
"I don't believe this klunk," the boy directs at the other boy, I presume, a thick British accent coating his words, "It's a shuckin girl!" He has a wild grin on his face, he says it like he can't believe his words. I don't understand why my gender is such a big deal. I move from a crouch into a kneel. Maybe they won't hurt me. Just maybe, they can give me answers or get me out of here.
"Impossible," another voice interjects; it's deep, and something about the way he speaks makes me recognize that he is in charge. "There's never been a girl, and there won't be one." An African boy peers over the side at me. Shock registers on his face. His mouth drops slightly open. "No," he mutters, seemingly to himself, "I don't believe it. A girl?"
The boy with blond hair curtly nods. He seems to thoughtfully consider the situation. "Um, what are we supposed to do with a bloody girl?" He says quietly.
Somewhere within me, I find sudden burst of courage. This situation is going nowhere. If I want to be free, I have to take some measures. I am getting out of this box. Right now.
"I know what you can do with me," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. Both boys' heads whip back in my direction. Apparently, they thought I couldn't hear or speak. They say nothing, but continue to stare with wide eyes.
"I said," I put more emphasis in my words, "I know what you can do with me."
"And just what is that, Greenie?" The blond boy finally asks.
I only hesitate for a moment. "Get me out of this bloody hunk of metal, that's what!" I spit at them; I even adopted the blond boy's slang.
The dark skinned one shrugs. He faces blondie again. "What do you think, Newt? Should we yank her out?"
Now it's blondie's, or Newt's, turn to shrug. "Guess so. Why not?" He grins, and I am filled with relief. I am escaping this box.
Four hands reach down in, and I move forward quickly, latching onto their arms, and almost pulling my body the whole way out by myself. I blink in the harsh sunlight, after so much time in the darkness. What I see surprises me, though I guess nothing should really surprise me anymore. I am standing in the center of a ring of grubby boys. They all appear to be about my age, whatever that may be. Some are younger, some are older. They all wear dirty, worn clothes, and most have their arms crossed. I receive a variety of different responses to my arrival. Disgust, pleasure, confusion, and uninterested stares, to name a few. The African boy and Newt stand behind me. Everyone looks unsure how to react. I would definitely feel more comfortable if I wasn't the only girl, but there aren't any other females to be seen. In fact, these dirty teenage boys are the only people I see. My gaze darts around an area of green with small buildings in the distance. Everything is surrounded by gray walls coated in ivy. I feel like I should say something. I begin with, "Um, hi." No one says hi back. "I don't mean to sound dumb, but where exactly am I?"
An Asian boy in the circle shifts his weight from one foot to the other. He is tall and muscular, with short black hair. He would definitely be cute if he was smiling. He clears his throat and his hands seem to fidget. I wait expectantly.
"Welcome to the Glade, Greenie. Welcome to the Glade." He doesn't seem to want me here.
"I'm Alby," the African boy informs me, "I'm in the one in charge here." It was definitely his voice I heard earlier. "Do you have any memories? Maybe you know why the Creators sent you here?" He seems especially hopeful.
A bitter laugh escapes my lips. "Why am I here? I don't even know where here is! I don't know anything. I'm practically helpless, and I'm the one who should be asking questions!" Everything gushes out at once, like a dam being broken. "Look, I'm sorry to mess up you're whole boys-only system, but I'm not particularly thrilled myself." I scuff my feet in the flat grass. Great first impression. A temper tantrum.
Alby clenches his teeth and continues, "Look. I understand that you are frustrated. But everyone eventually gets over this stage. Just do what I say and you'll be fine. Got it?"
"Got it," I grumble."Now," Alby clears his throat, "Since this is a first for all of us," His gaze sweeps the rest of the circle. "I've gotta decide what to do with you, Greenie."
"Please," I look him in the eye, "Stop calling me Greenie."
"Sorry, but until you remember your name, I can promise you, we'll all continue to call you Greenie. Now, stop interrupting."
I silently glare.
As Alby quietly converses with Newt, I gaze around the circle of dirty boys staring at me. Nothing spectacular. Just average teenage guys. My eyes rest on the Asian boy, who stares steadily back at me. I wish someone would say something else. I feel like an object on display.
"Okay, Greenie, listen up," Alby grunts, interrupting my thoughts, "You've pretty much messed up our system. Big time. We're going to have to call a meeting of the Keepers to determine what to do with you. Your name will come back to you soon. Oh, and, I'm putting you under guard." He gazes around the group of young men. "Newt, Minho." The Asian boy narrows his dark eyes. "You two will be alternating shifts guarding this girl in the slammer. Frypan, get her something to eat." Only one dark skinned boy wanders off into the green expanse that is the Glade. Frypan, possibly? Everyone else continues to stare at me like I'm a slab of meat. I don't like it; I fidget nervously under their stares.
"What are you all looking at?" I glare. "Haven't you ever seen a girl before?" Most of the boys' faces flush; their eyes drop to the ground. Others, Minho included, continue to stare.
Alby comes to my rescue. "Newt and Minho, take her to the slammer. Decide who's guarding first. Since you'll both attend the Gathering, we'll have it tomorrow. Everyone else, GET BACK TO WORK." He says it with force, and all he boys scatter in different directions, most heading toward the homely shacks. Newt, who I notice has a limp, lopes his way toward me, a grim expression on his pale face.
"Let's go," he mutters. For some reason, it serves as a reminder that the upcoming days will not be pleasant. Minho joins us, walking close to my left side.
"You're a girl," he mumbles, sizing me up from my head to my toes.
"What tipped you off?" I say, and smile innocently. As we're walking, the dizziness from the box is slowly wearing away.
"Ha. Ha. Ha." He deadpans. No one says anything for why feels like forever.
"Did I really mess everything up?" I wonder aloud. In the distance I see a small building with only one door. The slammer.
"Nah," Minho sighs. Newt nods his head in agreement. "Alby's just stressed. Louis died yesterday."
"Oh," I awkwardly say, "Sorry." It feels insincere. We've reached the slammer. I can't believe I'm being jailed for just showing up.
"We're here," Minho states, as if it weren't obvious.
"Yay." My dry sense of humor does nothing to lighten the heavy mood.
"In ya go, Greenie," Newt sighs. I cross the threshold of the building and step into a dank, dark room that eerily reminds me of the box. At least it isn't swaying. After surveying the musty room, I notice that the only thing in here is a tiny bench. It's definitely not big enough to sleep on. The door thumps shut behind me, making the room even darker. I hear the two boys discussing things outside. I rush to the window.
"Hey, Greenie," Minho says, noticing me standing by the window. "I'm on first watch."
I smile blandly. "Yay again."
"Aww, come on! We'll have lots of fun!" His voice drips with sarcasm.
"I'm sure." His cute pouting face is hard to not smile at. I have to remind myself that I am in no position to be smiling, anyway.
"You'll see, whoever you are. Sorry, I don't know you're name."
"Still workin on that," I mumble.
"It takes time," He says encouragingly. I don't reply. Instead, I just lean my back against the wooden door and tilt my head back, eyes closed, thinking about how I just moved from one cage to another. Minho and I don't talk for a long while.
Finally, I hesitantly whisper, "Minho?"
He yawns. "Yeah?"
"I'm sorry that I'm not a boy." I mean it, too.
There's a few seconds of silence, before I hear a soft chuckle from the other side of the door. I can almost hear him smiling as he whispers, "I'm not."