A smile. That was the only thing that I could remember. The memory felt happy, comforting. And yet I couldn't figure out why.

My eyes squinted open to my dark surroundings that seemed to be moving around me. Disorientated, I tried to stand, only to be knocked down by the box I was in crashing into the ceiling. My arse hit the floor to the box as I fell and my head smacked against the chain link wall.

My heart beat raised as the sound of unfamiliar voices rebounded of the doors above me and I made the fast decision to lie limp on the floor, closing my eyes and play dead.

"A girl?"
"What? That can't be right."
"What kind of guy has their hair dyed purple?!"
"Yeah but for the past first five months the box has brought us guys. I don't get it why now?"
"You try asking them that Gally."
"So who's gonna get her out?"
Silence.
"Well don't all rush at once." The box crashed beside me as someone jumped in, placing their hands beneath my body and lifting me out this damned box.
"She's out cold." The guy holding me said and placed me on the ground. The blades of grass crawled up my neck, causing me to flinch.
"Wait. She moved." Well no shit Sherlock. I cracked my eyes and gripped the person closest to me's arm, yanking him down to the ground and grabbed another boys machete. Before I knew what I was doing I had flipped over backwards and held the weapon to my victims throat, crouching on my left leg and extending my other. Everyone took a step towards me but I just pushed the knife closer to his throat and my victim held up his hands in surrender.

"Who are you, where are we and why am I here?" I hissed.
"Who are you, Greenie?" The tall blonde boy questioned angrily. I raised the machete.
"Your choice idiot." I began to bring it down and the boy below me started shouting.
"WOW WOW WOW HEY I'M ROMAN. I'm Roman." I slowed down my movements and placed the blade softly at his neck.
"Better." I replied.
"Newt." The blonde, British boy stated. He was tall and looked harmless.
"Alby." This one was also tall, but was dark skinned and seemed older than the others.
"I'm Minho." An Asian boy in his late teens stated.
"Gally." The idiot told me his name reluctantly with a hand on the handle of his sheathed blade. He wasn't quite as tall as the others but he was more muscular. It seemed that he was the same age as me and Newt and he sure as hell was an arrogant one.
"Where are you? You're in the Glade." Roman's voice quivered.
"The Glade?" I questioned.
"Yes. No one really knows exactly what it is but we've been put here and left to survive." Newt answered quickly.
"As to why? No one has a clue. We just hope everyday that we'll remember or be told. But so far we haven't." Minho stated and began to relax as he hoped I was satisfied with their answers.

I fell backwards, putting my elbows on my knees and resting my head in my hands.
"Why don't I know who I am...?" I said more than asked.
"I don't even know my name." I felt the tears well up behind my eyes.
"You'll get that in a day or two," Roman rested his hands on my shoulder. "For now you should just relax. We all know how tough the first night is. Newt, show her the way to the beds." Roman seemed kind, his voice soothing me as my whole world came crashing down.

Newt held out his hand to me.
"Welcome to the Glade, Greenie."