When Minho woke up, he saw white. White padded walls, white lighting, a white screen. He looked down and inspected his clothes, white shirt, white shorts, white socks, creating quite the contrast against his tanned skin. Everything was white. It was almost blinding.
He hated it.
He surveyed his new surroundings. Other than the screen, there was a door, the only metallic grey thing in the room. There was also a Beetle Blade, painted white, as though to blend in with its surroundings. 'Fancy seeing you here,' he muttered under his breath.
There was a wooden desk with a glass of water on it. However, Minho ignored it despite his thirst. He proceeded towards the door, knocking at first. It was pure steel, no matter how many times he punched it, the door would not budge, or dent. 'Hey!' he shouted. 'Let me out!'
No answer.
Out of annoyance, he kicked the door. The pain throbbed through his foot, all the way up to his thigh. He winced.
The blinding white light went out. The room was now black. Minho blinked a few times, pinched himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming.
Then the screen came to life. Full colour blasted out of the screen. Again, he blinked a few times to get used to the light. At first there was ivy that he recognized all too well from the maze. Then a familiar bony hand appeared. Seconds later, he spotted a mess of blond hair.
Then it hit him, Newt.
Minho was confused. 'Why are you showing this to me?' He shouted. He recognized the footage when he got a top view. Newt's attempted suicide. He felt a pang in his chest, he wasn't there for Newt, he had never witnessed the whole scene in person, only heard Alby re-tell it to him.
The determination was clear on Newt's face, which was covered in sweat. Minho didn't want to look but he couldn't help it. He watched on as Newt climbed. Newt slipped a few times, each time sending a wave of panic over Minho. He constantly had to remind himself that Newt had survived this.
Finally, Newt let go. He saw the pain in Newt's eyes, there was no sound but he saw Newt scream as he hit the ground on his side. Newt's eyes were closed, he was twisting in agony.
The screen went black.
A burst of static, another scene appeared. This time it was Newt in the Homestead. The Medjacks had fashioned a splint for Newt's leg. Newt was asleep, all was calm. The Minho ran in. The cuts on his leg were still fresh from the day in the Maze.
Minho remembered this all too well. The days they kept Newt in the Homestead after Alby took him back. Every night, after returning from the Maze, all the Gladers would try to keep him away from the Homestead. Trying to convince him Newt was still sleeping, that he needed rest. But Minho would take none of it, he would run all the way to the homestead, despite how tired his legs felt, and not stop until Newt was in sight.
As usual, the Gladers weren't lying, Newt was indeed still sleeping, still in his shucking concussion, and no matter how long Minho waited and hoped, he would stay unconscious even after Minho left for the map room.
But this particular day was different. It was three days after Newt's suicide attempt. Minho knelt next to the makeshift bed Newt was on. Before he knew what he was doing, he realized his hands were tangled in Newt's hair, slowly combing through the blond strands.
Like the last scene, this had no sound either. Minho could see his lips moving, he knew what he was saying. 'Newt, please wake up.'
Then Newt woke up, for the first time in three days. The camera caught Newt's eyes slowing opening, caught Newt's lips saying one word: Minho.
Once again, there was a scene change. Minho was paralyzed in front of the screen. This time it wasn't anything interesting, just Newt, waiting by the doors for the runners, or one in particular, like he did every day after he healed.
Newt's couldn't run, deep down he didn't want to, but he still felt guilty. Minho didn't really mind, Newt was alive. Newt would be safe in the Glade, playing mother to the other Gladers and the monthly Greenies.
The doors were closing, he sensed Newt's slight panic. Then screen Minho burst through the West Door, sweating and exhausted, trying not to fall apart right there and then, as always.
And as always, Newt was there for him. Newt, with his crushing hugs and rushed kisses. Still no sound, but he knew the Gladers were cheering or wolf-whistling.
Minho expected the burst of static, the scene, much like the others, showed Newt. Minho knew this was another test set by the creators, and the only way the creators could get to him was by Newt. Again, Newt was waiting by the doors, but Minho noticed the sunrise. Why was Newt waiting for the doors to open in the morning?
He eyed the runners getting ready to run. Then he realized he wasn't with them. The doors opened, the runners went in. Newt couldn't care less, he scanned the doors, his eyes filled with panic.
Then he saw himself walking towards the West Doors, Thomas following behind. Newt spotted him almost immediately and started a slow jog, with his limp and all.
On-screen Minho broke into a sprint when he saw Newt. Minho knew his legs were tired but he saw himself running towards Newt despite it. He tackled Newt with a hug.
He knew what was going to come next, another kiss. But the screen didn't wait for it, the scene changed, this time showing a white room, almost similar to his.
Correction: It was exactly the same, except for one thing, Newt. Newt was sitting against a white wall, directly opposite a screen.
The screen was showing a scene Minho recognized from his own screen. The stone walls of the Maze, the ivy and Newt. He watched it all over again, but mostly his eyes were on Newt. Newt who was watching his own suicide, it was cruel. The camera zoomed in on Newt, Minho could make out tears at the side of Newt's eyes.
Minho turned away from the screen and walked towards the steel door, almost in robotic movements. Before he knew what he was doing, he was banging his fists against the door. 'Stop it!' He screamed helplessly. No one replied, the scene kept playing. Minho didn't want to watch, but he couldn't pry his eyes from the screen, he had to know what they were doing to Newt.
So he watched, the suicide clip ended and replayed itself on Newt's screen. Was this live? Was this even real?
Then something changed. He saw the steel door in Newt's room open, still no sound, no creaking of the door. Newt was too paralyzed to move. He watched Newt, helpless, not moving. He wanted to jump into the all too real screen, wrap his arms around Newt, protect him, tell him that it was okay. But he couldn't.
A tray was pushed into Newt's room, on it sat a gun. Minho's eyes widened in horror. Newt stared at the tray, managed to stand up and limp over to it.
Newt's hands gingerly picked up a note on the tray that Minho never noticed before. The camera zoomed in, at first it was blurry, and then it resumed its usual quality. Minho could see the note clearly now. 'One bullet, your choice'.
'No!' Minho yelled at the screen. 'You can't do this to him!' He continued. He hated the Creators, hated them for taking away his memories, his life, even his makeshift life in the Glade, everything. And now they were going to take away Newt.
No, Minho told himself. It was Newt's choice. He saw Newt's bony fingers close around the gun, the exact fingers that ran through his hair a million times.
He wouldn't do it, Minho tried to convince himself. But he felt uncertain. Newt's finger rested on the trigger. Minho sucked in a breath.
The screen went black.
He heard a bang, the sound of gunfire. The first sound that wasn't his or the Beetle Blade's in this stupid white prison.
'No!' He shouted. The word escaped his mouth before he could process anything.
The screen stayed black. The room silent except for the whirring of the Beetle Blade. He banged continuously on the steel door. 'What did you do to him?' He screamed and shouted all over again until his throat was dry, until the only word his lips would form was 'Newt'. Newt's name came out raspy and in whispers.
He sat silently in the black room. They hadn't turned the lights on but Minho didn't care. He couldn't care less about anything except Newt.
The screen came to live again. Minho looked at it with hopeful eyes, maybe they would show him what had happened to Newt. But no, it was only replaying the previous scenes. From Newt's suicide, to Newt healing in the Homestead, Newt waiting outside the Maze. The gunfire Minho was never prepared for.
He watched in horror as the scenes replayed themselves in sequence, like a broken tape recorder. After the tenth time he covered his ears during the gunshot. After the twentieth time, he started pacing around the dark room.
After the thirtieth time, Minho felt his eyelids drop. He didn't keep track of time but he knew it had to be late. All thoughts went out of the window as Minho succumbed to the sleep.
When he woke up, the only change was that the screen had stopped playing the scenes and resumed its usual white self. Minho groggily walked up to the wooden desk, meaning to reach for the glass of water, only to be stopped by a wall. He winced as he felt the impact of the invisible wall. Then Ratman walked in, a pathetic grin on his face. Minho felt his insides burn with anger. How dare he act like everything was fine?
'Good morning, Minho,' Ratman greeted.
'What did you do to him?' Minho said. His voice came out rough like sandpaper, he suddenly realized his thirst, he hadn't had a drink since he was thrown into this room. He punched the wall, he knew it was useless but it was worth a shot. 'What. Did. You. Do. To. Newt.' He screamed every word as he hit the wall.
Ratman sat there calmly, ignoring the raging teenager in front of him. The wall was going to hold, after all, it had been tested. Minho could see Ratman's faith waver a tiny bit as his lips curved into a frown. Ratman wasn't sure if it had been tested against lunatics like Minho.
'Are you done yet?' He snapped when Minho stopped. Minho looked at him blankly.
Ratman proceeded to explain how this was Phase 3 of the trials, along with a lot more things about the Flare that Minho mostly ignored. He was too thirsty to snap at the Ratman, all he wanted right now was to find Newt and get out of this stupid prison.
'Minho, are you listening?' Ratman asked after a while.
Minho sighed. 'Look, I'm tired of all your klunk, just cut to the chase.'
'You're immune to the Flare,' Ratman announced carefully, like the information was precious and fragile. Minho let the information sink in, he realized he didn't really care, he knew he'd catch the Flare sooner or later, he had grown accustomed to the prospect of dying, or going crazy.
'Newt,' Minho mumbled.
'Sorry?' Ratman said innocently. Minho felt like punching him again.
Minho cleared his throat. 'What about Newt?'
'You'll find out soon enough,' Ratman replied.
Minho was lead out of the room, forced to take a shower. Then lead into another room, this time with a few Gladers. He was greeted by some cheering, some pats on the back. He scanned the room, looking for the familiar blond hair, praying Newt was still there. When he saw him, he let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding.
He was alive. Newt didn't choose to kill himself.
He hugged Newt, clung onto him like his life depended on it. It did. He imagined this moment countless times in the shower, imagined reuniting with Newt. However, when he finally saw Newt, all the words, all the scenarios flew out of the window.
'Newt,' was all he could say. His voice was a low whisper.
He knew some of the Gladers were missing, knew Thomas was nowhere in sight, but none of it mattered. Newt was here, Newt was alive, Newt didn't choose to die.
He didn't lose Newt.