The hunger in the pit of Poppy's stomach was what woke her early the following morning. It gurgled in anger, demanding to be fed immediately. Poppy was fatigued, with a nauseating headache, and a strong stiffness gluing together her muscles and bones. She sat up and scratched the gunk from her eyes, then looked around the room.

Someone had unbound her wrists and laid her on the bed. She suspected that that someone was the boy sleeping in the chair on the far end of the room. Gally sat, dead asleep, slumped over in his chair with a primitive looking spear leaning against his thigh. Poppy wanted to laugh, but all she could manage was an amused smile. That kid does not like you at all. Replacing the bucket of water and rag on the bedside table was a sandwich, cup of water, and a small pile of folded clothes.

Poppy grabbed the food greedily and ate it with certain level of rage. It was gone all too quickly and only left her half satisfied. Poppy waited as the food settled in her stomach and listened the deep breathing of Gally.

Her bones ached as she pushed herself off the bed. Poppy clenched her eyes in discomfort as she tried to stretch and straighten herself out. She grabbed the pile of fresh clothes, tip-toed to a small closest in the room, and changed in silence behind the half shut door.

Inching out of the closest, Poppy stopped to watch Gally for a moment. He won't wake if you're quite. Go. Poppy moved with ease to the exit and cracked it open just enough for her to squeeze through. Her bare feet made no noise on the decrepit wooden floor. An easy escape. Down the stairs and through the first floor of the Homestead, Poppy saw random bodies of boys sleeping comfortably on the floor. It seemed everyone had their place. She creeped out of the house, leaving the front door open, and into the Glade.

The light was just beginning to show over the high walls and everything was still. Boys slept happily in their hammocks or peacefully on pads under poorly made roofs. Animals, content with life, shuffled lightly in their pens. Peaceful, Poppy thought, finally understanding the lure to staying safe inside the Glade.

She started to walk towards the furthest wall where the Maze doors would open and examined everything as she went. There was a large garden, a make-shift barn, small poorly built huts sparsely scattered around, and the occasional chicken clucking merrily. The grass was tall but soft on her feet, making muted crunching noises as she walked.

Poppy stopped and crossed her arms, waiting ten feet from the wall. She heard the rest of the Glade wake up with shuffles and soft talking, but only became nervous when the loud lurch of the stone wall opening sounded in front of her.

The door pried itself open with maximum effort from internal gears. The grinding noise made the hairs on the back of Poppy's neck and arms stand up. But to everyone else in the Glade, it was just the morning alarm clock. The wall parted, gifting Poppy an intimidating site. She stood firm, arms still crossed, and peered in to the Maze. The walls were high, the vines were ancient, and the air felt heavy.

"There ya' are, Greenie!" Poppy went rigid with surprise as a controlling arm suddenly draped over her shoulder. "Got Newt and Gally all worked up," Minho said with an amused smile.

Poppy tried to shrug off his arm. "Gally looked like he stayed up all night, didn't want to wake him," she said.

"That's because he did. It was that shank's first shift of watching you and he fell asleep!" Minho ignored Poppy's attempts to shrug him off, trying to slyly keep her close and in control. "Come on, Greenie. Let's get you back."

Poppy rolled her eyes and let Minho turn her around. "Just wanted to check out the Maze."

"That's my job, no need for you to worry about the Maze." He gave her a broad smile and continued to lead her back.

Poppy felt the stare of multiple eyes on her as boys stopped mid stride to watch them walk. "You're allowed to go into the Maze?" She asked, trying to sound indifferent.

"We all have our jobs, Greenie, mines to run the Maze and find a way out. You'll find your job soon enough."

"What if I want to run the Maze too?" Poppy had a way with words when she wanted answers. She knew you couldn't just bluntly ask obscure questions without raising warning flags. People had to give information without them realizing what question they were actually answering.

Minho laughed, "Don't think that's ever gonna happen. Newt says you're jacked and have some sort of death wish. We don't let just any shank run around in the Maze, Greenie."

"But I'm a fast runner, I could help."

They walked further back into the Glade, Minho's arm still guiding her forward. "You're right, you are a fast runner, Greenie. When you were running yesterday after punching Alby, I thought I wasn't going to catch you in time. Nearly ruined my reputation."

"So if I'm just as fast as you, why can't I be a runner?"

"Look here, Greenie," Minho said as they came up on the Homestead where Newt and Gally were waiting for them, "The only way you're getting in that Maze is if you're banished, and that just ain't gonna happen." Bingo.

Minho clapped Poppy on the shoulder and a shined one last friendly smile. "These shuckheads will have to entertain you for the day, Greenie," Minho said as he turned and walked away, "I gotta job to do. Try not to wander off while I'm gone!"

Poppy watched him jog away then hesitantly turned and faced the disapproving looks of Gally and Newt. "You think this is some sort of shucking joke?" Gally spit, gripping the spear next to him just a little tighter.

"I don't need supervision. You were sleeping, I went for a walk. I didn't die. Everyone's happy."

Gally turned pink in the face, "If it were up to me, you'd be in the slammer right now."

"Well we can't all get what we want, now can we, Gally?" She laced his name with the slightest bit of venom.

"Alright, alright," Newt finally interjected, "slim it, Greenie. I'll take her to Winston, Gally. Go tell Alby we found her."

Newt stepped forward and gripped Poppy's bicep, pulling her away from Gally and towards the makeshift barn. "You really need to learn how to close your mouth. I'm not going to be there every time you start talking klunk."

"Where are we going?" Poppy said bitterly as she jerked her arm out of Newt's grasp.

"You'll work at the Slaughterhouse today with Winston. He takes care of the animals and provides the meat for the Glade. He said you could feed the animals or something since you're a girl."

"Can I at least get something to eat first?"

Newt laughed and looked down at her, "Sorry, Greenie, you missed breakfast when you walked off. I'll come and collect you for lunch later." The pair stopped at the opening of the barn and Newt called out for Winston. Out walked a boy with a grim look painted on his face. "Winston, Poppy. Greenie, Winston." Newt introduced them.

Poppy nodded, and Winston returned the gesture. "I'll leave you two to it then." Newt leaned in to Winston and whispered something in his ear, then pulled away and gave Poppy a reassuring grin.

Newt left, leaving the two in vicious a staring contest. "So, you like to murder innocent animals?" Poppy asked with dry humor.

Winston's expression molded in to an unimpressed gaze, "Gotta eat, don't we, Greenie? Follow me." He turned and led her into the slaughterhouse where a variety of farm animals whined and snorted in their pens. "You can shovel the klunk to start, then feed them. We'll figure out something for you to do after lunch."

Poppy raised an eyebrow, "What do Newbie's usually do after lunch on their first day?"

"Slice something up. Frypan tries makes something special for a Greenie's first full day in the Glade."

"Who's Frypan?"

"He makes our food." Winston crossed his arms and looked down at her. Everyone was always looking down at her.

She mimicked his stance. "Well, if something is being made in my honor, I should man up and kill it myself."

Poppy was surprised when Winston cracked a smile. "You're not too bad, Greenie. You know that?"

Winston gave her a shovel and a pale, then sent her to work in the pens. She shoveled manure until the Glade was at full light, and the heat made her sweat. Boys walked by occasionally, acting like they needed something from Winston, but just stood and stared at Poppy until Winston came and told them to get lost. Shoveling crap was hard work, and slightly annoying when boys came to check her out, but Poppy never complained.

At high noon Newt snuck up on her while she was feeding a cow. He picked up a piece of hay and lightly tickled her ear with it. Poppy swatted at it like a fly. He did it again, but this time, Poppy felt a presence and swung around with one fist in the air.

"Bloody hell, Greenie!" Newt yelled as he dodged her hand. He gave her a baffled expression, "I was only trying to get a laugh, no need to swing at me."

Poppy huffed, and straightened her shirt, "don't do that."

Newt and Poppy could hear Winston chuckle a few stalls down, making Newt turn red in the face. "Whatever. You ready for lunch, Greenie?"

Poppy dropped the basket of grass she was holding for the cow, and dusted herself off. "Starving."

"Good that, come on." Newt turned and walked her across the Glade to where a line of boys was forming. "How are you getting on?"

Poppy shrugged. "Fine, Winston's been nice. I like the animals."

Newt seemed pleased with the review. "Think you found your job already, Greenie?"

"No, I want to do what Minho does. I want to be a runner."

Newt stopped in his tracks and reached out to stop her too. He looked her dead in the eye and said, "Now listen here, Greenie. Minho told me that you wanted to be a runner, and that's just not going to happen. Can't let you go out in that Maze, Poppy. I won't let you."

There was something that flashed across Newt's eyes when he said the last bit. Sympathy, maybe? Concern? Poppy shook the emotion, and tried to play dumb, "Why not?"

Newt pursed his lips and brought up his hands to grip her shoulders. "Because, Greenie. You're not right in the head, and I wouldn't be able to follow you out there.

Fuck me. Poppy swore internally as his words sunk in. He wants to fucking protect you.

Newt looked longingly at her while Poppy tried to come up with the best response. The longer she stared though, the harder it became to think straight. His rough hands on her shoulders, and the territorial look in his eye made an emotion stir inside Poppy that she couldn't place. She looked away from him, trying to ignore the tingling sensation, and just nodded.

He dropped his arms, placed one hand on the small of her back, said, "Let's get you some food, Greenie," and led the way.

Lunch was awkward, but tasted so good. Another sandwich, several pieces of fruit, and multiple glasses of water later, Poppy was full and enjoying the break. She didn't want to move from her stop. Newt sat next to her, eating his food and shooing away Gladers that lingered to long in front of them. She had found a moment of bliss. "You said there were rules," Poppy said lazily to him, trying to snap herself out of the daze.

"That's right." Newt confirmed, taking a bite of his sandwich. "We got three rules here, Greenie. Never hurt another Glader, do your part, and never go into the Maze."

Poppy looked to Newt, "so Alby kicking me yesterday was…what exactly?"

Newt wiped crumbs from his face, and shook his head. "Alby put himself in the Slammer last night after he left. That's why you haven't seen him today. He knows he did wrong, but we can't banish the shank. Be lost without him."

She perked up at the information, "so you banish people?"

Newt shrugged, "Only had to do it twice."

"So if you hurt another Glader, you get banished?" Poppy tried to sound disinterested and played with the grass between her fingertips.

Newt stared off in front of him and thought about his answer. Poppy grew nervous, thinking she was too obvious with her line of questioning. But then he said, "we don't banish people for fighting, that's why we have the Slammer. The only two people who we've banished tried to kill other Gladers. There's a difference between a fighter and a murderer."

Poppy made an impartial nod to the information. But inside, she was calculating her next move. "Should I be getting back to Winston?" She asked innocently.

He looked to Poppy with content, appreciating the change in subject. "Good that." Newt stood up, brushed himself off, then offered a hand down to Poppy. She reached up and grabbed his hand. Their skin coming in contact made a shiver run down Poppy's spine.

Don't you dare get attached, she warned herself.

Newt escorted her back to the Slaughterhouse where Winston waited with a pig on a rope leash. "You ready, Greenie?" He asked, looking obscurely pleased with what they were about to do.

Poppy painted on a smile and walked from Newt to Winston. She turned, gave Newt a comforting wave, and followed Winston into the Slaughterhouse. "I'll come get you for dinner!" Newt yelled after them, standing on his toes at the last minute to catch another glimpse of Poppy.

The back room of the Slaughterhouse was a dark place. Goosebumps rose on Poppy's skin when the smell of iron, blood, and rust came in contact with her nostrils. She tried to breathe through her mouth, but the smell only coated her tongue. There was pools of dried blood on the floor being covered by hay, and miscellaneous knives, cleavers, axes, and saws laying around. There's your ticket, a dishonorable voice cooed in her head.

Winston tied the pig to a post and picked up a long blade, "You have to be quick and hard, or it will suffer. We don't want that."

Poppy flicked her eyes to him, "Why do you use that knife, and not one of these?" She picked up two small daggers off a wooden workbench, "Or that one?" She Poppy pointed to a large axe hanging above Winston's head. He turned to look at it, then turned back and saw Poppy putting a dagger back down onto the bench.

"If you hit it, and miss, the animal suffers. The daggers are too small, makes too big a mess, and the animal suffers." Winston extended out the knife to Poppy again. "Ready, Greenie?

She walked up to him and brushed her hand against his before taking the knife. Poppy walked over to the pig and put the blade under its chin. She looked to Winston. He seemed all too aroused and distracted by the site unfolding in front of him.

Poppy tried to hide her discomfort from the tiny dagger wedged between her hip and pants, "ready."

Holy hell that took me forever to edit (sorry if I missed some things). Thank you to everyone who have left such encouraging messages. They really makes a difference on my motivation to write this. Let me know what you think! -Alison