Before you start reading, can I just say that I learned what the "Traffic Graph" was earlier today and holy shit. Seriously. There are people in places like Australia, Hungary, and Malaysia checking out my story. I don't even care if they think its the worst story they've ever read! I'm just completely floored by how popular this site is. You guys are awesome, and I really hope my story is living up to your expectations.

Poppy went through the rest of the night with the dagger cutting in to her hip. She had decided that there was no better time to attack a Glader than that exact night during the feast Frypan was preparing. The more people who saw her do it, the quicker she would be banished to the Maze and free of this place. Poppy would pick an unsuspecting Glader, preferably one of the smaller boys, and try to make the least fatal wound possible.

The shoulder would be the best place, Poppy told herself, just don't hit any organs and he'll live.

The only problem with this plan was Newt hadn't left her side since he had picked her up for dinner. It was going to be more difficult to grab and stab someone before he stopped her. But she had to do it. It'd been almost two nights now since she arrived in the Glade. Poppy knew that somewhere out in the world a clock was reaching the end of its countdown, and she had to be back before it hit zero.

Frypan's feast was in full swing with a bonfire blazing, everyone drinking, friendly fighting, and laughter echoing all over the Glade. Newt had introduced her to each Glader, followed her as she got more food, and watched as Minho tried to dance with her. Poppy was beginning to relax, and he enjoyed watching her unfold.

Newt was sat by the fire, observing Poppy and Minho dancing like a bunch of chickens, when Alby came up behind him and punched Newt in the arm. "How'd the new Greenie do today, Newtie?" he asked.

He greeted Alby with a crooked grin. "Winston fancies her. Said she must be just as jacked as he is because she had no problem slicing up a pig." Newt continued to watch Poppy dance in the light of the fire with Minho. "How was the slammer?"

Alby laughed, "Like klunk. Frypan snuck me some food though, so it was more like a day off."

"Only you'd be able to make the slammer into a day off," Newt chuckled then looked back to Poppy.

Alby followed Newt's casted gaze. "What the shuck are you thinking, Slinthead?"

"Nothing," Newt said with an embarrassing smile after peeling his eyes away from Poppy, "I'm just worried. Greenie is so bent on leaving, I'm scared she might actually try something."

"Well, I can tell you one thing," Alby said getting up, "I've never met a more stubborn Newbie in my life."

Newt watched as Alby walked over to the other side of the fire, towards the dancing pair, and tapped Poppy on the shoulder. "Thought they had you locked up?" Newt heard her ask sarcastically.

There was a different tone in her voice. Soft, playful teasing words that Alby couldn't help but relax to. "They let me out on one condition."

"What's that?" Poppy said taking a swig of Glader Juice Winston had given her earlier.

"That I apologize. I don't know what came over me last night, Greenie. I've never hit another Glader. I was stressed, we've never had a girl before."

Poppy's cheeks were red and her smile broad, "No worries, Alby. I've been hit before." She flexed her bicep to show how strong she was.

Alby laughed at her, then looked to Minho. "Maybe no more juice for Greenie, ok, Minho?"

Minho shrugged and gave Alby a devilish look, then pulled Poppy back over to him.

The Gladers partied late in to the night. It wasn't until Poppy found herself leaning against Newt, with a fuzzy head and warm cheeks, that she realized the banishment plan had been sabotaged by herself and some very potent juice.

Tomorrow, Poppy kept telling herself, I'll do it tomorrow. First thing.

Newt had draped an arm around Poppy's waist to keep her steady, feeling content with the world around him. "Ready for bed, Greenie?"

Poppy nodded as she tried to keep her eyes from closing. Newt tightened his grip on her, said goodnight to the few Gladers around them, then started for the Homestead. They walked clumsily through the Glade, further and further away from the party until a very rude interruption came from behind them.

"Hey!" Gally yelled, "Where the shuck do you think you're going?"

Irritated by the intrusion, Newt turned, "She's tired, I'm just putting her to bed, Gally. Shuck off."

Gally's lips pursed, "Your shifts watching her are during the day, mine are at night. You know the orders."

Newt rolled his eyes, "Gally, what does it matter as long as one of us is with her? Look at her!" He said amused as Poppy leaned half asleep against his side, "she's not going anywhere tonight."

"If you have a problem, take it up with Alby." Gally threatened.

He gave Gally a glare but reluctantly submitted. Newt moved Poppy from his side to Gally's and watched as the pair walked away. "Arse." He mumbled, then turned and went back to the party.

Gally steadied Poppy against his side the remaining length of the walk and up the stairs in to the Homestead. She was lighter than he anticipated and much more delicate looking when she wasn't glaring at him. As soon as Gally opened the door to the upstairs room, Poppy moved on her own accord to the bed and fell in to it. Curling up in the middle, Poppy closed her eyes and immediately started to fall asleep. He stood in the door way hesitant on what to do next. There was a blanket hanging off the end of the bed that Gally noticed and went for. He tossed it over her and stayed to watch as she warmed up and unraveled underneath it.

"I'm sorry Gally," Poppy said faintly through her drunken haze.

Her words came as a surprise to him, stunning him where he stood. "You're just doing what you think it right," she continued to mumble, "so am I."

Gally stood by the side of her bed for a moment longer and watched her fall asleep, unsure of how to feel. He didn't hate her, if anything he felt protective over her, like a crazed, stubborn, sister that he didn't want or trust. Gally shook his head in disbelief at what he was thinking. He settled back down into his chair with his spear resting against his thigh, and tried to sort out his thoughts as he fell asleep.

Poppy found herself in a familiar nightmare that night. She was in the desert running from a monster when quick sand pulled her in. The creature was on the edge of the trap, screaming and screeching, extending its long metal legs out to grab her. Poppy sank further down in horror, unable to scream. She tossed and turned but her mouth wouldn't open.

Breathing became impossible in both her dream and reality. Poppy woke in a panic from her nightmare, but quickly realized that reality wasn't far from her dream. Winston stood above her, one hand clamped on her mouth and the other pressing a sharp knife under her chin. She breathed frantically through her nose. Her hands flew up to the one covering her mouth and tried to pry it off.

He leaned in and whispered, "make a sound, Greenie, and I'll slice your throat."

Poppy kept her hands where they were and continued to pry. The blade dug deeper in to her throat. Breathing became a labored task. She kicked her legs. A pathetic attempt to get away.

Winston pressed the blade in further, sending down the first drop of blood. "Stop moving." He whispered again, his humid breath hitting Poppy in the face.

She tensed, heart pounding, and stared at him through the dark. Winston's dark and brooding eyes shined back at her. "Did you like killing that pig?" He asked menacingly. The knife relaxed against her neck. "Say yes," he threatened, pushing the knife back again.

Poppy nodded urgently, afraid of what would happen if she said no.

"Bet you like being covered in blood to, huh, Greenie?"

She winced at the knife cut deeper into her skin, she gave a panicked nod again.

He continued to stare possessively at her. The knife retracted from her skin, moved down her chest and stopped on her stomach. Winston flattened out his hand just below her belly button. Poppy went rigid with fear as tears started to run down her face. She felt his sweaty hand slowly inch its way closer to the hem of her pants. His fingers breaching the thin cloth.

Do something! Poppy screamed at herself.

Without needing a second command, Poppy reached for the nearest defense; her stolen dagger. Grabbing it, Poppy swung it through the air wildly, hitting Winston hard enough to make him let go of her. She gulped for air, and desperately tried to gather herself.

Winston stumbled back, giving her enough time to jump up from the bed and prepare for another attack. "You bitch!" Winston yelled as fresh blood gushed from his arm. He lunged at her, but was cut short by Gally knocking him down. Winston fell to the floor.

"It's her!" Winston yelled suddenly, "Get help!" He said again. Commotion could be heard from all over the house as boys started waking up from the fight.

Gally turned to Winston, then to Poppy and saw the dagger in her hand.

"Gally!" Was all Poppy could manage before Winston cut her off.

"She stole my dagger!" Winston regained his footing, "I was here to look for it and then she stabbed me! It was her!"

Poppy was so confused at how quickly Winston had turned the tables, "that's not true!" she stuttered, unaware of tears still falling down her cheeks.

People burst through the door; Alby, Newt, and Minho, with the background faces of boys trying to see in. Newt pushed his way into the room and Alby went to Winston.

"Alby, please." Poppy begged frantically, still holding the dagger. "Please you have to believe me! H-he had a knife to my throat. He was touching me!"

"She's a liar!" Winston spit again.

No one went to comfort Poppy immediately. Alby contemplated what do to, Newt stared at the drops of blood drying under Poppy's jaw, Minho noticed a second blade in Winston's hand, and all of these individual pieces came together for Gally at once.

A very rhythmic string of events started in slow motion in front of Poppy once Gally made up his mind on who to believe. Anger bubbled to the surface of Gally's face. He turned to Winston and punched him hard in the jaw. Winston fell back down from the blow, spraying a mist of blood. Minho moved to Gally and restrained him from throwing another punch. Alby had come to the same conclusion as Gally and reached down to aggressively picked Winston up by the scruff of his neck. He dragged Winston from the room. The boys parted for Alby who wore a hard look of detest and rage. The group followed him out of the Homestead and in to the Glade, excited with what would happen next. Minho let go of Gally and two eagerly chased after the parade of boys to watch what Alby was going to do with Winston.

Poppy was left behind with Newt. Her hands shook violently by her side. The blood had drained from her body and tears still clung to her face. He stood away from her and watched the hand holding the dragger.

"Poppy," he said lightly, bringing his eyes to hers, "I need you to give me that knife." Newt's voice was comforting and reassuring. His right arm reached out for Poppy to place the dagger in. He was steady, showing no fear or panic.

Poppy could see him, she could hear his words, but nothing registered. The phrases, "killing that pig" and "slice your throat" clouded all of her judgement and cognitive skills. "Poppy?" Newt asked again. She remained quiet. Still gripping the dagger firmly.

He stepped forward. She stepped back. Her legs hitting the edge of the bed behind her.

"It's ok, Poppy. Everything's alright." Newt said calmly, taking another step towards her, arm still extended. "I just need the knife." He took another step.

Poppy wanted to back away, to run, but there was nowhere to go. Newt wasn't the enemy. He wasn't the one who had threatened her. She could see how relaxed he was. Winston was gone, Gally was gone, Alby had taken everyone away.

Breath.

The touch of Newts hand scared her. She tried to pull away, but it was too late. He already had a firm grasp on the hand gripping the dagger, and expertly pinned the other against her back. "Drop it, Greenie." Newt demanded in her ear.

Poppy let the knife fall to the floor with a heavy thud.

Newt spun her around and seized her shoulders, his distressed eyes scanned her face. "Where'd you get that knife, Poppy?"

She sucked in a ragged breath. The wave of emotions that came with what just happened finally hitting her.

"Answer me," Newt said urgently.

"I'm not supposed to be here," Poppy whimpered, "I'm not supposed to be here."

Two more chapters left!