~~~~~~~~time skip because I'm lazy and want to get to the action~~~~~~~~
To say I was hungry would be an understatement. I was famished. My stomach had started to feel like it was eating itself.
It had been three days since I surprised the boys, found out that my entire life (or what I remembered of it) was a lie, and was diagnosed with insanity by a strange tattoo on my neck.
I hadn't had a full stomach since the dinner after I escaped my maze. No, before that. I was too upset at dinner to eat much. My last actual meal had been in the Valley (my version of the "Glade") right before we ran off. That felt like ages ago. So much had happened since then, so much.
We all stopped talking to each other (which was quite a feat for me I must admit; even Fib couldn't get me to shut up most days) around day two. It wasn't as if there was contention, we simply didn't have any extra energy. Just keeping my heart pumping seemed to sap all of my leftover strength.
I looked around the room at everyone's gloomy faces and had to stop myself from bursting into a fit of hysterical laughter. Who knew that after all we went through, starvation would finally be what killed us. I did manage to keep the laughter inside, though. The boys were suspicious enough of me without adding confirmation of my nickname to the mix. Little did they know I was already on my way to madness.
A humming sound coming from the common area shook me out of my internal discussion. I debated with myself about getting up and checking it out, but exhaustion finally won me over. I merely watched as a few boys walked into the other room to look around. After only about 30 seconds, they ran back into the room with... wait, was that fruit in their hands? Or had I finally started hallucinating for real?
"Food!" one of the shouted between bites. The rest of us, well the ones who weren't asleep, jumped up and to see for ourselves what sort of miracle had occurred in the adjoining area. There, sitting in all its glory like a pile of diamonds, was food. We sprinted to the mound of heaven-sent goodness and immediately chowed down. I stuffed my face full of whatever I could get my hands on. Apples, carrots, a packet of nuts, everything. I could feel my energy being slowly restored with every bite.
However, when I heard the sounds of one of the boys vomiting from eating too much too fast, I resolved to slow down. Glancing up for the first time, I saw something that made me wonder if I was still dreaming. It was a man, dressed in all white, sitting at a desk. He was reading calmly on the other side of the common area seemingly without a care in the world. Apparently, the others had noticed him earlier, but I was too wrapped up in the food to notice anything else. Hey, can you blame me? I have my priorities straightened out just fine, thank you very much.
A burst of confidence surging through me from the new calories entering my body, I walked over to him. About ten feet in front of the desk I slammed into an invisible wall. I fell back on my tailbone to the chuckles of a few boys behind me. I ignored them. Reaching out my hands, I touched something cool and flat, like glass. I knew I wasn't glass, though, because I would've seen a smudge, a glare, anything. There was nothing here. My hands just seemed to stop in midair.
I knocked, making some dull thumps, but he didn't even look up from his apparently enthralling novel. Letting out an exaggerated sigh, I stalked back to the food pile. I picked up an orange, peeled it, but instead of eating it, chucked it right at the wall. It gave a satisfying smack and dripped down. I was disappointed to see that it hadn't made a mark though.
The man rolled his eyes, turned toward me, and spoke.
"Did you not hear what I said earlier? We still have an hour before I've been authorized to implement Phase Two of the Trials. Please show your patience and leave me alone. You've been given this time to eat and replenish yourselves, and I strongly suggest you take advantage of it, young..." he paused for a moment and took in my appearance. I glared back at him.
"...young lady. Now, if you don't mind..." he turned around before I could say anything, crossed his feet up on the desk, and continued reading. Huh. Not one for small talk, I guess.
~~~~~time skip to after Ratman does his whole speech because y'all already know what he says and I don't want to type it out~~~~~
Ratman (as Minho had dubbed him) left, after delivering the worst speech ever made to mankind, and the room erupted with a million voices, asking what the heck was going on, making guesses, complaining, everything.
I was abruptly hit with the need to escape. Not escape from W.I.C.K.E.D., although that was definitely on my to-do list, just the urge to get away from all these people. Everyone was talking so loudly, yelling over each other, and I just couldn't stand it any longer. No matter how much complaining and strategizing they did, all of us would end up going through the Flat Trans anyway. I just didn't see any need to discuss it.
I ran to the only private place I could think of, the bathroom. I entered the dorm Aris and I shared (after mine had mysteriously disappeared), and opened the adjoining door. Turns out I wasn't the only one with that idea. As I pushed the door open, I saw Thomas there, leaning on the sink. He turned his head as I walked in.
"Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't... um, the door was unlocked so I just assumed..." I rambled before Thomas cut me off.
"No, it's fine. I just needed to get away for a second. I just can't stand everyone talking over everybody else like a bunch of babies. Say what they want, we all know what we're gonna do."
"You read my mind. Mind if I get a drink?" He stepped away from the sink but didn't leave the small room. I gushed some water into my hands, drank it, and then splashed some on my face. Suddenly Minho walked in.
"Woah, excuse me. Am I interrupting something?" he said with a smirk. I rolled my eyes.
"Tommy and I were just discussing how annoying everyone's voices are, particularly yours, Minho. It's so high-pitched."
"Look who's talking," he retaliated. I flicked water at him.
"Am I missing something?" Newt popped his head in. An involuntary smile tried to stretch its way across my lips but I forced it back.
"We were just complaining about Minho's squeaky voice," I said with a pointed look at the boy in question. He attempted to flip his hair but it was gelled down so well that it didn't move. That time I didn't even try to stop the smile from spreading across my face. Newt just shook his head at us.
"Tommy," he said, "you went through the Changing, got some of your memories back. How much of this stuff do you remember?"
"I don't know. I can't really picture the actual world outside or what it was like being involved with the people I helped design the Maze. Most of it's either faded again or just gone. I've had a couple of weird dreams, but nothing that helps."
From there the discussion turned to things Ratman had said and the state of the world. My brain honestly couldn't take any more of this klunk (wait, what? Oh no, the gladers are rubbing off on me), so I excused myself and laid down on one of the beds in Aris' dorm. My head felt like it was about to implode, so I just pushed everything away and focused on my breathing, something Tag had taught me when I first arrived in the maze and started freaking out. In, hold, out, hold. In, hold, out, hold.
Of course, thinking about Tag only made things worse. He was my best friend, maybe even more. He taught me everything I needed to know. How to fit in, how to hide my weaknesses, how to come up with the perfect comeback, how to throw a knife with perfect accuracy, how to adjust the locks on my door so Fib couldn't break in and "borrow" things from me, even how to steal extra food without getting caught.
But he was fake. An illusion. A figment of someone else's imagination. Just a combination of pixels. At least when I thought he was dead, I was comforted by the thought that I'd see him again when I pass away. Most of the gladers weren't religious, but it just didn't make sense to me that death is the ultimate end, and that we fade away to nothing. But now, he was past even death. I'd never again see his left eyebrow quirk up in that cute way it does, never see the sun glint off his chocolate skin, never hear his captivating Aussie accent, and, if I did, it would be worse than a nightmare. It would mean I was back in that wretched suit with no way to escape.
I felt tears threaten behind my closed lids. Stop it, Rachel. You are stronger than this. He's gone, lost forever, and there's nothing you can do about it. I dug my nails into my palms. There. Pain was something else I could feel. Something other than this consuming misery. I grit my teeth and forced myself out of bed. I needed to help the others pack up.