I'm in a room full of people. Not just people, everybody is in white, the teenagers sitting at the round tables with me and the important looking adults watching us. I look across from me and see Newt sitting there, focused on the clear screen in front of him. He looks at me through his screen and smiles and we stare at each other before getting back to work. I can't see what's on the screen, but as soon as we stop staring at each other, I flick to another snip-it and watch Newt lying on a steel table, different instruments of medicine surrounding him, people in white lab coats made a horseshoe around the table.

"What are you doing to him?" I yell at a lady standing beside me.

"Brienne, I know he's your best friend, but this is for the good of society." She says in a condescending voice.

"What good is it if you're just sending him there, wiping his memory?" I ask angrily.

I can finally see the features of myself, I was short, long brown hair reaching my midriff, amber-brown eyes staring at the lady with fury, I looked to be around fourteen, but this could be a memory from a long time ago, if it even was a memory or if it was just a dream.

Just as I was about to spit in the lady's face, I heard Newt groggily saying my name from the drugs that they were no doubt putting into his body. I ran to his side at the table and grabbed his hand. The only thing he said before the guards started dragging me away was,

"Don't trust anybody. WICKED is not good."

I groggily remember being sent up in a cage, moving, stopping at a place called the Glade and a handsome boy with a thick accent unlike the other teenage boys populating a small farm surrounded by stone walls. I also remember my hands being ripped to shreds as I tried to escape the cage. Then, finally, I remember my name and passing out just as Newt caught me and the dream that would forever haunt my wake.

As my consciousness slowly starts to regain itself, I take a moment in this pure silence, almost dreading the moment when I would have to open my eyes and face all of these questions that were just waiting to exit my mouth. But I had to open my eyes at some point, might as well be now. So, obeying my brain telling me what to do, I open my eyes slowly and find myself staring at a wooden ceiling. I keep my glance upon the ceiling, not daring to turn my head around, expecting to see a whole herd of boys crowding the room and the doorway, but only one voice spoke and at least it was a familiar one.

"Oh, thank goodness you're awake," The accent exclaims.

"How long have I been out?" I ask propping myself on one shoulder.

I'm on a bed, a couple pillows propped where I lay my head just a few minutes ago. I look around the room to find it's quite small, the only things in it being the bed and a small dresser in the corner. And then I bring my gaze up to Newt, sitting in a chair beside the bed, looking like he hasn't slept. He still looks as handsome as when he jumped into the cage.

"About a day."

"A day!?" I blurted with wide eyes.

"Yeah, the med jacks said you have what's called a concussion. Did you fling yourself at the Box?" He asked almost medicinally.

"Yeah," I confessed.

"How many times?"

I conjured up the memory of myself flinging my body against the walls of the cage and being thrown back. I had counted those times. It took a few seconds but the number came back to me.

"About ten times."

"Then a concussion sounds about right."

Whatever a concussion was, it sucked because I could still feel the pounding in my head, like my brain trying to escape the captivity my skull was providing.

"The med jacks said you shouldn't do heavy stuff for about five days." He said.

"What would I have to do, I mean, if I didn't have a concussion?"

"We'd put you to work, you get a week in every job and we see which one fits you best."

I only nod and my questions start flowing, just as Newt asks what's on my mind.

"I've got a while until I have to be back at my job, they said I could wait until afternoon and if you weren't awake then they'd send someone else in here to watch you. I'm sure you have a bunch of questions,"

"Yes." I say, a little croak in my voice.

"Well, unfortunately there's a limited amount of answers I ca give you, depending on what you ask. Alby will give you the tour when you're feeling better and all questions will be asked then. But for now, I can solve at least some of your curiosity."

I nod and a hint of a smile flashes across my face before I quickly wipe it off, hoping Newt didn't notice.

"Um. Okay, why can't I remember anything except for my name?" That's my first question and seems like the most obvious.

"We all had that when we came up in the Box. The people who put us here, the Creators as we call them took away all the memories of who we were, where we came from, what we're doing here, but they spared us our first names."

"Where am I?" A silly question to ask when I only have a limited number of them.

"Right now, you're in my room in the homestead. They needed lots of room in the infirmary, so they said I could take you up here and this is where you'll be staying until you get better, not a lot of noise, just like the med jacks prescribed. As for where you are permanently, you're in the Glade, as Alby decided to call it when he first got here."

"What was that big stone structure surrounding this place?"

"That, my friend is classified information until Alby gives you the tour."

"Couldn't you just tell me and I can act surprised when he tells me?" I bargained.

"Well, you're a bargainer aren't you?" He says with a lazy smile. "But I can't do it. I'm Alby's second in command and that means that his rules are mine to enforce until he no longer can."

I only nod, knowing that I won't be able to get an answer out of him about the stone structure. That's fine. I had an alternate plan anyways.

As soon as I'm about to ask another question, the door flings open to reveal a medium sized boy with dark hair.

"Hey, Thomas, need anything?" Newt asks as the boy steps an inch through the door.

"Hey Newt, they said they need you down at the gardens. Do you want me to send anyone up for her?" He asks with a kind lilt to his voice.

I shake my head, not wanting any other person but Newt to be in this room with me. I'm not sure I trust anyone yet, even though Thomas looks nice enough. Newt thankfully gets my hint and turns towards Thomas.

"No, I think I trust her to be by herself now that she's awake." He says and turns back to me and smiles. "Stay out of trouble, okay?"

"What kind of trouble would I be in?" I say with a laugh and motion at the room.

"Good point."

"Okay, Newt you gotta get down there." Thomas says as he leaves the room.

"Alright, tell Zart I'll be down in a few minutes."

Newt flashes me a smile and tells me he'll see me later. He closes the door after him, leaving me wide awake and sitting in the bed. My plan would have to commence sooner or later.

After a few minutes have passed since Newt's absence, I slowly and carefully swing my legs off of the bed until my feet meet the cool wooden floor. I use the bed as my spot and lift myself off of it, my legs slightly wobbling, but cooperating as I stood, my head still pounding like a drum. I quietly slip out of the door, surprised to see that nobody is guarding it. Then, I decide to run, run faster than my legs could carry me. I had to get answers and if they weren't from Newt, then they had to come from me and my curiosity. I ran out the door of the building and through the grass. When I heard murmurs of boys who'd noticed me, I kept running, running straight. Nothing could stop me. I heard shouts, the same thing from different people,

"We've got a runner." They yelled through the constant and worsening beating of my head, but I ignored them and saw Newt's worried face as I passed him.

Then I entered them, then I entered the stony walls encasing the Glade.