I swarm the Box, along with the others. A loud grating sound rings through the air as the box opens followed by a chorus of comments.

"Look at that shank!"

"Is it another girl? I call dibs if she's hot!"

"Definitely not a girl. Looks like klunk in a T-shirt!"

"You're the klunk, shuckface!"

"Hope you enjoyed the one-way trip, Greenie."

"Ain't no ticket back."

The Gladers throw down a rope and pull the poor Greenie out of the box. Finally, once he is righted, the boys back off and I can see the Greenie. His hair is dark brown like mine and he looks about sixteen or seventeen. As I study the boy, I realize that I don't know how old I am. I don't know what my face looks like. I don't even know my full name.

"Where am I?" The boy asks. The terror in his eyes triggers sympathy from me. I want to give him a hug, tell him it'll be alright, but Alby's already calming the poor boy down.

The Greenie shoots questions at Alby like a machine gun. Again, it saddens me to know things enough to make metaphors about random klunk, but I can't remember my own family.

I catch the Greenie's eye and something flashes in his blue orbs. Recognition maybe? Could this be Tommy? I think to myself excitedly.

"What's your name, Greenie?" I ask, stumbling over the slang word as I try to adjust.

"I'm Thomas," he replies.

A wide smile spreads across my face. "Come with me, Thomas. Chuck and I will give you the tour."

"Good that," Newt says. He catches my eye and gives me a look that tells me we'll talk later.

You're my sister.

The words come directly in my mind, but the thought is not mine. I stumble backward, startled. "What the shuck..." I say aloud. Luckily none of the boys are paying attention to me except Chuck and Thomas.

I open my mouth to say something, but a blood curdling scream cuts me off. The shriek was high and shrill, barely human. Thomas's face echoes my own terror.

"Shuck it," Newt says. "Can't the bloody Med-jacks handle that boy for ten minutes without needing my help?" Newt mutters and stalks off.

"What's going on in there?" Thomas asks, face white.

I'm just as shaken up as Thomas, so Chuck responds, "Don't know. Ben's in there. Sicker than a dog. They got him."

"They?" Thomas repeats.

I interject, "Do you go by Tommy?"

Thomas turns back to me, surprised. "What? Uh, I'm not sure. I- I don't remember."

"But, that was your voice wasn't it? In my head? You said that I'm your sister." I realize after I say it that if this isn't Tommy I just made myself sound like a psychopath and revealed something I shouldn't have.

Thomas looks startled. "Y- you heard that? I don't even know how I know. I don't remember anything else, I just know that."

"Whoa! You totally look like siblings!" Chuck exclaims. "And you can talk in each others' heads? That's awesome! Can all siblings do that or just you?"

"I don't think that it's normal," I say.

"Will someone please explain what is going on? I can't remember my entire life and now I show up in a giant prison with my telepathic sister and a bunch of guys. Not to mention some one screaming like they're being tortured to death." Thomas is exasperated and confused, but I'd forgotten that he doesn't know anything. It feels like I've known him my whole life. I probably have, I realize, I just don't remember.

"We don't know much more than you, Tommy," I say. "I just got here last night and Chuck came last month."

"Where can I find someone who does know?" Tommy asks, desperate for some knowledge to cling to.

"Well," Chuck begins. "Newt and Alby probably know the most, but even they don't know everything and they're kind of... busy."

"Busy with that Ben guy?" Tommy asks.

"Yeah, but-" Chuck begins to tell Tommy not to go bother them, but Thomas doesn't give him long enough to before marching over bravely.

"Tommy!" I warn, chasing after him. I don't know what I'm warning him agaisnt but my sisterly instincts tell me not to let him go.

"Hey, look, it's the Greenbean!" Gally taunts. His minions form a wall around him, blocking me from getting to him. As Gally taunts him, I feel panic rising inside me. I don't know why I'm so scared, but I am. Flashes of a different scene fill my head.

A younger Gally throws his hands on his hips angrily. "Man you guys really like your sarcasm. I mean, do you think I'm stupid?"

The vision cuts out choppily and I see Tommy heading to the stairs purposefully. I want to tell him to stop, but nausea keeps my mouth tightly shut. What's happening to me? I think, terrifies by the way I'm losing control of my body.

Gally speaks again but my senses have gone fuzzy and I can't hear the words. My sight blurs as my panicked breaths fail to deliver enough oxygen to my body.

"Gally! Chill!" An Asian boy warns.

Gally throws his hands up. "They're the ones that need to grow up!"

I focus on the surroundings of the vision, trying to catch something that will explain what it means before I fade back into reality. We're in some kind of closet like room. White walls, very sanitary. That's all I get before I'm thrown back into the present.

Tommy yells at Gally. I stumble backwards and fall to the floor but everyone is focused on the growing tension between Thomas and Gally. I can't breathe. I can't breathe. I can't breathe!

Gally shakes his head, a malicious grin distorting his features, he lets Tommy pass.

"That's it!" Young Gally says inside my head. "I'm out!"

As he storms out of the room I catch a glimpse of the others inside. Newt, Minho, Chuck, Tommy-

I'm thrown back to reality and I lose it. My body goes into full panic mode and I run into the forested area to the right of the Homestead. I find a place deep in the trees and press my back against the wall, trying to ground myself. My hands shake and my heart pounds so much that I fear it's about to jump out of my chest. A jolting pain erupts from my skull.

"Why?" A younger version of my brother appears as I'm jolted back into the memory. "Why would you guys want to leave?"

"Because we're prisoners!" Little Minho screams in my head. "Because we're being kept here against our will. That's all the reason I need!"

I'm thrown back into the real world, reeling from the pressure in my head. It feels like it will explode. What is happening to me? Why do I remember that? What does it mean? Tears pour down my face and I stay on the ground, shaking and crying for what feels like hours. After what, in reality, is twenty minutes, a voice pops into my head.

Addy? Hello? Tommy. I- I don't know if this is working. Where are you?

I want to reply, but I'm still unable to control my own thoughts, let alone shove them into someone else's head. My mind is reeling with everything that just happened.

Another thought forces its way into my brain, but this time it's a picture rather than words. I see a boy, pale and writhing in agony. Black veins web all over the boys body, intermingling with purple bruises and vibrant red scratches. The boys eyes are bloodshot and dart, unseeingly, around the room.

I think I'm going to puke. It's awful, Adds. Tommy's voice is in my head again. We've gotta get out of here.

I need to tell him where I am. I need to tell him about what I saw. I need Tommy, but I can't stop shaking and I can hardly breathe. My head pounds and throbs as I try to send an image to him through the pain. An image of where I am so he can come help me. It's like there's a wall inside my brain that I have to push the image through. It takes a few tries but finally I send Tommy the message, but more than just that goes. I find myself sending Tommy the image of where I am and the feeling of the panic attack, along with the words, help me!

It takes Thomas a moment, but he replies, Woah. That was painful. I'm coming, but don't talk in my head anymore. It hurts.

I'm relieved. Both because he's coming and because he stopped speaking in my brain. My head hurts like heck.

I wait, trying and failing to control my breathing. Hurry, Tommy, I think, keeping thought in my own mind. I feel like I'm going to die.

Even without hearing the message, Tommy arrives just in time. He sees me, my shaking body curled against the wall with tears streaking down my face. "Oh, Addy," Tommy says, sitting next to me and enveloping me in a hug. "I'm so sorry. It'll be ok. I promise. I'll get us out of here."

I lean into his chest, mimicking his breathing with my own and listening to his quiet words of comfort while trying to control my body again. When the shaking and crying finally stop, I wipe my eyes and whisper, "Thank you, Tommy. I- I need to tell you about something, but I- I think we should wait for Newt, Minho, and Chuck."

"Of course, Addy. I love you. We'll go find them soon. Just breathe."

We stay on the ground for a few minutes more before a twig breaking startles us both into standing position. I swipe at the tears remaining on my face and we listen as another sound sends our heads jerking in it's direction.

"Who's there?" Tommy calls into the trees. No reply. "Come on." Tommy grabs my hand and starts towards the direction of the sound.

I want to turn the other way and run, but I'm not ready to face the entire Glade. I'm too ashamed at my break down to see them again. Especially, though I don't remember why, Newt. I hope the Builders have finished the hut Newt promised me. I need somewhere better to hide.

We follow the sound further into the greenery but don't hear anything again. "Anybody there?" Tommy asks, sounding more confident. "It's me, Thomas. The new guy."

I shake my head. Why did he say that? He sounds so stupid. I snort out a small giggle, cautious and laced with sadness. Thomas jerks his head in my direction, smiling a little. "What?" He asks me in mock offense. "It's true!"

We head onward and find the Graveyard. Distracted and cheered up a bit, I wander through the cemetery and study the handmade headstones. Tommy makes a garbled snorting sound from across the way, staring at a glass window in the ground that surely contains the remnants of some poor boy. I walk over to him and turn away, feeling sick when I see the half boy through the glass, just in time to see a skinny boy limping towards us in an odd, lilting run.

"What the he-" I say at the same time as Tommy says, "Who the he-"

Both of our words are cut short when the boy suddenly launches himself on top of Tommy.

I scream and throw myself at the boy, trying to tear him away from Tommy, but the sickly kid just thrashes around, biting me on the forearm. I shriek, knocked to the ground by the sheer force of the boy who must be insane. One of the wooden gravestones splinters when I fall on it and scrapes all along my back.

The boy forgets about me and throws himself back onto Tommy, biting, kicking and scratching every inch of my brother that he can reach. Tommy screams and just before I can go back into the fight, air wooshes by my face and a thud marks the moment when a arrow embeds itself into the flesh of Ben's leg and knocks him to the ground, crippling but not a life threatening wound. I pull Tommy to his feet and back away from the squirming, crazed attacker.

"Ben!" Our savior limps towards us and drops the plank. His bow is cocked and pointed at the sick boy's chest. "Stop it right now!"

"If you kill me," Ben spits, insanity lacing every saliva coated word. "You'll get the wrong guy!" He points at Tommy. "He'd bad! He wants to kill us all! Him and his shuck sister! Bad, bad, bad!"

"What are you talking about?" Newt's voice is steady, but it's clear he's not as calm as he acts because the arrow is still trained on Ben. "They just got here. Through the box. Just like the rest of us."

"NO!" Ben screams, grinning from madness. "Bad, bad, bad, bad, bad." He chants.

"Ben," Newt warns. "I don't want to do this. Stop this now!"

Ben ignores him and jumps up, about to tackle whoever is closest. Newt let's the arrow free and it lands in the boys stomach, blood oozing as he convulsed and finally falls still.

"Baggers will take care of him tomorrow. " Newt breathes heavily. "Let's go."

Newt walks off, but I'm frozen in place, shocked and shaken. Tommy falls to his knees and convulses. I bend down and rub his back comfortingly while he upends the contents of his stomach. Poor Tommy has had too much on his very first day. I know I love my brother, but that is one of the few things I do know. Surely it can only get better.