The first thing I did was vomit. I could taste it as it was rising up only to be heaved from my body straight onto my lap. God, I thought, what a terrible way to start it off. My body moved from a sitting position to one where I was on all fours coughing up what felt like my entire lower intestine. Tears blurring my vision, I emptied the contents of my stomach. My ears rang.
The terrifying thing was the fact that I was moving. I was in what appeared to be an elevator, but it was completely dark. I felt around and figured that this box could be no bigger than a bathroom stall. I wiped the sweat off my forehead; this was a hell of a lot to take in, and while I thought I was handling it pretty well, I was still pretty afraid.
It was completely unlit, and my eyes couldn't find a shred of light. So dark. Dark like life before puking. Try as I might, I couldn't think of any memories before the box. But I knew there was life before The Box because I could think of things. I remember books, but I don't know how I know about them. I couldn't think about any books I had read either. I tried thinking of specific people, places I'd been, anything, but it all blurred together. It was a bit like trying to isolate an individual ant in an ant hill. Nothing stuck, and it just made my head hurt.
Where did I come from? That was the main question I had, among others. Why was I in this dark lit elevator? How long was I going to be here? Who was I before The Box? I had to have a mom and dad right? How could they have let me get here? Had something happened to them? Wait. What if they put me here? Ugh, what's the point of having questions if there was no one to answer them?
Careful to avoid the pile of vomit, I sat down away from it, but its smell permeated my thoughts. The sway of The Box felt like a hammock, only I knew that hammocks were peaceful things, and this was certainly not.
Well at least I know my name. Joan. It sounds warm to me, like I've heard it spoken all my life, but it frustrated me that I couldn't pinpoint exactly who said it. Not only was I growing increasingly frustrated with my lack of memories, I was also frustrated with this stupid box, this stupid chest binder that I had on for some reason, and this stupid pile of vomit next to me.
That's another question; why am I wearing a chest binder in the first place? Maybe I needed it for life before The Box. Maybe I was transgendered? No, I'd remember something like that. I silently apologized to all transgenders who I could have possibly offended with that thought.
While my inner dialogue did help distract me, The Box was sort of like the elephant in the room. I tried not to think about it but it was like an itch. I distracted myself with thoughts of the me before this. Was I scared of the dark? I felt my fear peak; I was definitely scared of the dark.
The fear of not knowing what was going on was starting to drive me crazy. I could hear the rattling of whatever was pulling the box up, and I wondered if it could have rusted away somehow. A sick twisted part of me hoped it would break off so I would fall and this terrible dream would be over.
I should count. I could keep track of how long I'd be here with the numbers. Plus it's hard to think while counting. And I need to keep the suicidal thoughts down to a minimum.
One.
Two.
Three.
The Box stopped moving at four thousand eight hundred twenty two. The sudden movement jerked me to the left and I got dangerously close to the vomit puddle.
It felt like I had been in here for an hour, but realistically it was probably half that. I needed out. Like right now. I lurched up and started banging on the top. Saying I felt panicked was an understatement.
"Hey! Let me out! Is anyone there?" But no one came.
I had stopped counting and this time I couldn't stop my mind from wandering. Hyperventilating, I curled up into little ball and held in my tears.
I snapped my head up when I heard something above, and instantly regretted it. My eyes couldn't adjust to the light that fast and I quickly covered them with both my hands. The top of the lift had been opened with two double doors and I felt my heart rate increase rapidly.
I heard voices from above over the pounding in my ears.
"Look at that scrawny shank."
"This one just looks like a Slopper."
"Smells like one too, that shuck's nasty."
"That smell's from his puke."
"I bet he's klunked himself too."
"Do you think the shank maybe wishes he could've stayed in The Box now?"
"Too bad for the Greenie it's only a one way trip."
I was scared and confused, and I hoped my eyes adjusted to the light soon. I could make out silhouettes and nothing more. Finally, like lifting a veil, I saw faces looking down at me- all young boys- crowded around the top of the lift. Just teenagers. Well, that's calming. How harmful could teenagers be? Although they were jeering at me, which wasn't exactly the thing I needed most right now. I really needed some questions answered. Like what the hell am I doing here?
I didn't get time to think on that question because a rope was lowered; it had one loop at the end for my foot. Figuring anything was better than this vomit filled hole, I placed my foot in the makeshift stirrup and held onto it tightly. It was quite dizzying how quickly I was pulled up out of the hole. Hands were all over me, pulling me up into the day. The crowd of hands left and was replaced with a sea of faces, and I turned and craned my neck to try and see beyond them but I couldn't. I as tall as some of them and they were distracting me with their jeers.
I realized that there was something very different about me. Something that none of them had appeared to notice, but I noticed just the same. Everyone here was diverse in skin color, height, weight, and looks in general. But I was the only girl. I guess they hadn't noticed because of the chest binder. I thought about what would happen if they found out my gender and I realized what secret I had to keep for protecting myself from this crowd of boys. I knew what happened to girls when men were around. I sure wasn't about to let anyone else in on my secret. Especially not the guys who looked like they were in charge. Who had just appeared right in front of me.
The boys went quiet as the one with shortly cropped red hair spoke, "Welcome to the Glade, Greenie. I'm sure you have a lot of questions, but try to keep them until the Tour."
Of all the questions I had, the one that came out was, "Where am I?"
The boy ignored it, "My name's Nick, I'm the leader around here," he gestured to a dark-skinned boy with a scowl, "and this is my second, Alby. We help the Glade run smoothly and efficiently. Because these shucks can't do klunk by themselves," he ended with a grin directed at the crowd. "Everyone here has been in your shoes before, so don't worry. Just slim it for today and everything will start to make sense tomorrow."
I couldn't handle this right now; I needed to get away from this group. I didn't remember anything from before, but I was quickly figuring out that I wasn't good with large groups of people. I took a few steps away from the crowd and finally got a good look at my surroundings.
The "Glade," as they called it appeared to be a large square, several football fields in length and had grass all across it. It was surrounded by very tall gray walls covered with ivy. In the exact middle of each was there was a gap that appeared to lead to some sort of corridor, which was dark and uninviting, but it would have to do if I needed to escape. And the large group of boys seemed to be standing on some sort of town-square-ish cobblestone that was cracked and looked as if it had been here for years.
My curiosity was sated a bit; at least I knew where the exits for this place were. One on every side. I turned back to the crowd, they had dispersed a bit and that made me minutely more comfortable. I still couldn't shake the feeling of uncertainty, but at least now I had some information. Now I needed to get out.
The boy who called himself the leader, Nick, spoke up again, "How do you like your new home, Greenie?"
"Home?" I asked incredulously, turning to face him. "I come up from a strange elevator with no memories, get pushed around by a bunch of nasty sweaty dudes covered in dirt, have none of my questions answered, and you expect me to call it home? Are you serious?" I couldn't believe this guy. Were all guys like this?
The second, Alby, got in my face and I had to fight the urge to shrink away, "Listen, Greenbean. I understand that you need to act tough so none of the boys bully you while the Keepers aren't around, but I cannot let you talk to another Glader like that." He relaxed a little and stepped back so he was no longer solely occupying my vision. "We are all shucking brothers here," Sisters, I thought, "and none of us want to be in the Maze, okay? So it's much easier if we all cooperate so we can be more efficient. Good that?"
My mind had stopped functioning, and I managed to squeak out, "Maze? We're in a maze?"
A scratchy voice called out from the remaining boys, "Oh good job, Alby. Why don't we just tell pretty boy here everything so he'll klunk his pants."
If this was a Maze, then whoever had put us (suddenly I realized I was thinking in terms of all the people here, and not just me) in here wanted us to solve it. For what purpose? What would someone gain by putting teenagers in a place like this?
Nick raised his hands, "Guys don't worry. You shanks are so terrified of change you'll cause an uproar at the slightest thing," Nick turned to me explaining, "usually the Greenbeans don't know nothin' until the second day, that way they stick around for answers instead of trying to escape," he turned to the boys again, "but this Greenie's smart. He has a good amount of fear in him, so he won't dash off into the Maze.
"Gally, since you've already taken a liking to him, why don't you keep track of him until tomorrow?"
Why do I need to be kept track of? Literally where would I go? Although some company would be nice, and I probably could trick this guy into giving me answers.
The scratchy voice spoke up again, "C'mon, Nick don't do this. I've got work to do."
The owner of the scratchy voice came forward as he spoke, and I had to blink when I saw him. This boy had the oddest looking eyebrows I had ever seen, but they seemed to compliment his slightly larger than average nose. He was a well-built white boy with blond hair, but all I could look at was his eyebrows.
He walked towards me, and looked me up and down with a sneer. "Nick this might be the scrawniest one yet. Too bad we can't send him back."
Nick just rolled his eyes, said, "Gally," as a warning, winked at me, and walked off with Alby in tow. The remaining boys dispersed, presumably to do their jobs, and I couldn't help but wonder what my job would be. I hoped it wouldn't have anything to do with that Alby guy; he did not seem to like me at all. Gally stood there, arms crossed, eyes facing the hot sun.
I spoke first, unnaturally calm, "Has the sun always been this hot?" Gally looked at me, paused for a minute, and then started laughing, while still making unwavering eye contact, which made me slightly nervous. "What is it? What did I do?"
"The first thing you do is ask about the weather like we're in some shucking office. Small talk. Shucking small talk." He was still chuckling when declared, "I like you, shank. What's your name?"
My name? Well, my name is Joan, but I can't tell him that because then he'd realize I'm a girl. Crap. I frantically thought of boy's names that sounded like Joan. John might work. I wouldn't mind being a John.
"John," I replied as I hoped no one else here was named John.
"Alright, John. Consider this your official welcome to the Glade."
Okay so when the Maze Runner movie came out, it remembered how awesome the books really were, and it rekindled my love for these stupid fictional people. (Also the actors are super hot.) So, I decided to create a story to channel my obsession into.
Anyway, to make things less confusing, I'm doing a sort-of book/movie hybrid. I want to appeal to anyone who has any interest in the series, whether they've only read the book, or just seen the movie (although I REALLY think you should read the book), or people like me who have experienced both :)
I'm making the appearances of the characters true to the movie, so that's why Joan noticed Gally's eyebrows, and not the "potato nose" written about in the novel. I just think it's easier for me as a writer to have an actual image of the characters when I write, but it also benefits the reader by having a picture to giggle over while they read. I will, however, keep most of the events and personalities true to novel.
It's pretty much canon that Nick was the leader before Alby, and I'm just rolling with that.
Also, I know that this story is in the romance genre, but I have a disclaimer about that. This isn't going to be a typical perfect love triangle "Girl can't decide which hot guy she likes the most- boohoo" story. And not because I want my story to stand out. I want my story to be real. Believe it or not friends, not every romantic interest can be the funny/cute/intelligent/caring/sex god/understanding/nice person/dark soul you want them to be. Everyone has a few of those qualities, but no one has them all. And while I know that you deserve someone like that, I'm afraid they just don't exist.
Which is why they won't exist in this story. Sorry guys.
And no protagonist is perfect either. So don't go expecting my Joanie to be a Cool Girl. She is herself and that's it.
Not sure how often I'll update yet, but once I figure out a pattern, I'll let you know. And if you see any errors or gaping plot holes, feel free to PM me or review if you're on anon. I want this story to be good for you guys.
See ya! Emily :V