warning: deja vu
Pretend The Other Kid Doesn't Exist
"-you've done the easy part Bea, but now we should have four or five - ah!"
One of the haphazardly stacked boxes toppled to the floor with a crash: the dodgy pulleys finally began to yank us upwards into our next venture. My heart slammed back into my chest as I clutched the metal caging behind me. The sconces flickered off one by one, plunging the lift into darkness.
"You're fine, you're gonna be ok-" I reassured myself, taking a deep lungful of stuffy air. There was certainly no way of turning back now. I'd thrown myself into the deep end, with my only lifeline being the notebook firmly sealed in my trouser pocket. It had taken me a couple of days to lay out all my thoughts in those pages, knowing that once I jumped in, there was a good chance I'd need some sort of guidance to keep me from going mental.
My eyes were beginning to adjust to the dim environment; across the lift from me was the silhouette of a scrawny boy slumped next to a wooden crate. WCKD's next lab rat. I'd paid him no mind at first because of everything else clogging my thoughts, but looking at him now, a kind of resentment surged in my chest. He would wake up soon, with no memories and no identity other than the one they thrust upon him. The life he had before all this - gone. Meaningless. Simply erased from existence.
I was no stranger to starting over, either. That's how I landed here in the first place, after all. In the darkness and the stale air that smelled like a derelict coin shop.
"Um… I need to get them to trust me. If I don't then I guess I'm royally screwed." I muttered, trying to spew the thoughts out of my head before the metallic screeching of rusty gears against cable gave me a migraine.
"Just- just be careful, Bea." The advice rang as empty as it did true: there was no being careful when you were toying with fate - you either dove all in or not at all. Hearing myself trying so, so desperately to go against the grain was like watching a man standing on train tracks, expecting the train to pass right through him like a ghost. A sight to cringe at: utter insanity.
And yet, I'd got it in my head that I was the only person in this whole world who could stare into Lady Luck's eyes and tell her to go fuck herself.
A deep groan emanated from the darkness as a few of the wall lights blinked on. The silhouette of the boy straightened up, his head darting around as he frantically absorbed his surroundings. Amidst the mechanical rumbling were the pitiful sounds of him struggling to catch his breath on the thick, stagnant air. A whimper as the crates swayed dangerously beside him.
He hadn't noticed me.
"Remember, you have no memories, no nothing. They can't know. Not yet, anyway." I mouthed, trying to adjust to the mindset of the terrified boy across from me. Granted, I was no Marilyn Monroe, but I could just about pull off uneasy and clueless. All I had to do was stick to the script well enough to prevent them from feeding me to the slug monsters. Still, easier said than done.
The lights gradually brightened to a muted grey as we approached the top of the Box shaft. Criss-crossed shadows washed over the floor, and over my trembling hands. I couldn't tell if that was from the nerves or from the traces of adrenaline still coursing through my veins. It had been a long day already, and I was only at noon.
"You can do it. Just focus."
Focus on moving forward. Focus on gaining trust. Focus on getting everyone out of there, even if they fight back. Gazing up at the pitch-black ceiling, I let out a jittery exhale in one last feeble attempt to compose myself. My hand instinctively reached to the pocket on my left leg containing my notebook. Still there.
Thud.
The rumbling stopped. The Box shuddered, jostling the crates around as if they were paperweights. The shadows settled in position. A dull light flooded over the boy's face to reveal his eyes widening in dread. Staring at me. My pulse pounded against my throat.
We had arrived.
I tensed my jaw as the cogs grated against each other with an ear-splitting squeal. Sunlight began to pour in through an expanding slit in the roof, casting a blinding glare onto everything in sight. Squinting and shielding my eyes with my pale hand, I gazed up at the crowd of boys gathered above me.
Breathe. Steady yourself. Remember why you're here.
"There's two of them!" somebody declared, their voice thick with bewilderment.
"Lemme have a look-"
"One of em's a girl."
"No shucking way!"
A slew of scruffy faces craned over the Box to catch a glimpse at me and the other kid. The humming of the warm air was soon drowned out by the shocked clamours of forty teenage boys who'd just had years of routine wrecked by my unusual arrival. The knot in my stomach tightened, alarm bells in the back of my mind starting up out of nowhere. As if by some base defensive instinct, my expression hardened into this tough facade I'd never seen before. In any other situation, being surrounded by strangers spelled nothing but trouble.
Except they weren't really strangers, were they Bea?
Eventually, two of them managed to manoeuvre through the horde of curious faces to the Box's edge. Through the unpleasant haze, I recognised them to be Alby and Newt. They stooped down to peer over us, murmuring something about how to introduce us to the Glade.
"I think if you just take 'em individually-"
"You can deal with this lot-"
"-well, she'll be quite overwhelmed I expect-"
A strange lightheadedness washed over me as I looked over at my companion, whose attention was drawn to the floor. Every one of his muscles were taut - he sat frozen as a deer staring down the barrel of a gun. Seeing this entirely reasonable terror on his face gave me this looming sense of restlessness, that WCKD had this intense grip over everyone's mind-
Pull it together, Bea. You have work to do.
Appearing to have arrived at a decision, Alby began to carefully lower himself into the Box in order to coax us out; snapping me out of whatever momentary daze had engulfed me. Perhaps I hadn't been as ready for this as I'd thought. That, or the hours sitting alone in the harshly-lit Box had messed with my head more than I cared to admit. Offering a businesslike nod to Alby, Newt turned to face the rabble and ordered them to "Clear off and get back to work!"
The peaceful thrumming of the humid air returned as the Gladers dispersed, leaving just Alby in the box with us, and Newt a few steps out of sight. Keen to escape the confines of the Box, I unpeeled myself from the clammy floor and slowly rose to my feet. The knowledge that this initial introduction would set the tone for the next few months weighed heavily on my mind; which made acting disoriented and anxious all the easier. Just as Alby opened his mouth to speak, I interrupted.
"Who are you? What's going on? W- Why can't I remember anything?"
"Look Greenie, this is entirely normal. All of us have been through this before. Trust me. Your name will come back to you in a few hours. It's the one thing they let us keep."
A dull ache bloomed in the pit of my stomach: despite knowing that deception would be playing a starring role in my plan, I had no idea that Alby's understanding would instill this much guilt in me. I tried to push aside the hypocrisy of it, reminding that quite literally anything I did would be more ethical than WCKD's pit of deceit.
He placed a warm hand on my shoulder as I drew in a shaky breath. Sensing the not-wholly-feigned unease in my expression, he lowered his voice, "Sorry about them. You're the first girl we've had in almost 3 years, so as you can imagine, they're pretty rowdy-"
"No, I- I get it." I bluntly mumbled, dodging direct eye contact for extra authenticity, "I guess when it's been that long and something different happens, you don't really know what to do, so y'know..."
Alby tilted his head in surprise, trying to process my abnormal level of composure, "Yeah, yeah, I get'cha." he acknowledged. He glanced over at the other boy still glued to the floor. Both of us could tell he wasn't going anywhere soon - at least, not without extensive reassurance. With a decisive sigh, he patted me on the shoulder.
"Let's get you outta here, shall we?"
Author's Note: Hello everyone! If you are new to this fic, welcome and I hope you enjoyed. If you are not new to this fic, I hope this instilled slightly less cringe in you. I have gladly reworked my plan for this story, so I am actually going in a direction this time instead of aimlessly meandering around. Chapter One is more or less the same, but this time I really wanted to focus on the realism and humanity of Bea's emotions going through the whole Box ordeal. Obviously, her arc is significantly different to many other characters for reasons that will become very apparent; so really concentrating on capturing that apprehension and subtle guilt is something I wanted to convey. (and sorry in advance for making you read my ramblings).
So yeah, hope you enjoyed. If you have any thoughts or criticisms, please feel free to comment because I love feedback of all description and also because it is my lifeblood and without constant praise, I will die a slow and agonising death. (truly a condition all writers are afflicted with). Thanks for reading and have a great day, month, week or year wherever you are :)
PS - enjoy your day 250