Emily

My eyes flutter open and I feel drool dripping down my chin. I rub the crust out of my eyes and then lazily wipe the spit on the back of my hand and pat it on my pants. My eyes drift to Clary's sleeping bag... which was empty. I go into panic mode and spring up to my feet.

"Clary!" I shout before running out to the hall.

I call her name a few more times before something taps me on the back. I twirl around and see the little girl with two plates of crackers, beef jerky, and dried fruit. She hikes the strap of a canteen up her shoulder and gives me a playful look. "Aw, did someone miss me?" Clary snickers before waltzing into her room.

"Shut up." I blush and sit down on my sleeping bag and she sets the plate of food in front of me. Clary takes a swig of water from the canteen and then wipes her lips and says to me, "You drool when you sleep."

Something pings in my head, as if I've heard or read that somewhere. Regardless, it makes me smile. She raises her eyebrow and then shrugs it off. My eyes wander to the food in front of me and I immediately scarf it down. A few seconds later, I go to grab something off my plate and I realize that I've finished everything. Clary stares at me in awe.

"Damn. What a pig."

I thump her head and she dramatically falls down in fake pain. I roll my eyes and steal a piece of her dried fruit and the canteen. I down the rest of the water and exhale with an 'ahh' sound when I finish. "So," I say.

"So..." She replies.

"Hey, uh, what... what was your brother's name? What was he like?" I flinch, instantly regretting my question.

Clary looks at me, unfazed, and answers with ease. "His name was Ryan. He... he was funny, sarcastic, sassy, protective," She gives a little smile, "and bossy. Very bossy."

I smile at the last part and then start to chew on my bottom lip. This is Minho. I think. Definitely Minho. Should I tell her that he's still alive?

Before I can say anything, she changes the subject. "Alright. Let's, uh, get you ready. Follow me." She walks out the door and I trail behind her.

"Get me ready for what, exactly?" I ask.

"Some Right Arm stuff." She responds vaguely.

"Hey," I grab her arm, "What stuff? What does Right Arm even do?"

She rolls her eyes and faces me. "Agh, so many questions. Okay, in a nutshell, Right Arm was created by your parents and their friend, Vince. Right Arm doesn't believe in what WICKED is doing because well, dude, obviously, the money for finding the cure for the Flare is a complete waste. Anyways, right now we're," She gestures to the both of us, "finding and selling munies, immune people, to WICKED so we can eventually launch an attack."

I look down at her and process what she just said. Selling people? What? I just shake my head and we continue walking. Right Arm is against WICKED and so am I. I'm sure they have something to get the immunes back before the attack.

We arrive at a metal door and she says her name. The door slides open and I'm greeted with a huge weapons/training room. I slowly step in with awe plastered on my face. I walk past shelves of a plethora of swords, bows and arrows, guns; the list could go on and on.

"Where did you get all of these?" I pick up a knife and attempt to twirl it in my hand the way Clary does.

"I'm not sure. Vince got 'em." Clary picks up a knife holster and attaches it to her leg. Her fingers wiggle over the knives as she decides on which one to take. Eventually, she chooses one and places it in the holster. "Well... go on. Stock up. Practice. Go crazy."

I walk around and I'm drawn to the archery shelves. I sling a quiver of arrows over my shoulder and I select a compound bow. I go to the targets and mount the arrow. My arm pulls back and I take deep breaths and count down.

3...2...1...

My fingers let go of the arrow and it flies through the air with a satisfying 'whoosh' sound. The tip of the arrow finds its home on the white ring surrounding the center of the target. Dammit, I think, so close.

I look to Clary for approval and she just shrugs. She nonchalantly walks over to me and pushes me aside. A throwing knife rests in her palm as she winds her arm back for a throw. The girl launches the knife with ease and it lands dead centre with the hilt being the only thing visible. I cross my arms and stare at the target. Clary laughs at my incredulous state and walks off to the sword racks.

I slump to a sitting position and slide the quiver off my shoulder. I decide to count the arrows when something catches my eye.

Near the arrowheads were something metal and technical. I find a button near the red fletching and press it. A green light on the metal thing starts flashing. I look up and Clary's face washes with fear. The girl sprints over to me and rips the arrow out of my hands. "Hey!"

Clary looks to me, fear still present in her eyes, "Holy shit. Are you trying to get yourself killed?" She presses the button and the light stops flashing.

"What do yo--" I start.

Clary yells at me again and then angrily takes out four different arrows from my quiver, explains what they do and forces me to take mental notes:
- Red fletching and rightmost arrows are explosive
- Green fletching and leftmost arrows are poisonous
- Blue fletching and beside the green are electric
- Black fletching and beside the red are normal

After the explanation, she finishes with, "Next time, don't be such a dumbass. Obviously, that might hard to do but we all have to strive towards our goals, don't we? Just ask before you try something and get yourself hurt or worse, killed." And with that, she turns away and grumbles.

Suddenly, I'm filled with a familiar uncontrollable rage. I reach for Clary's arm and yank her so we're face to face. Words spill out of my mouth before I can stop them.

"You know what, Clary? I think you need to pull your head out of your ass and just think about how I feel and how much shit I had and have to go through. Maybe getting killed by that shuck arrow would've been so much better for you, hey? You wouldn't have to work your ass off trying to keep me in line." I take a shaky breath and more words roll off my tongue, "I don't know if you can tell but I'm trying. Everything has been going downhill the second I came to the Glade and now you're making my life even worse. You're trying so hard to be like Min-- Ryan, I can tell! But you never will be so stop trying. The difference between the two of you is that you are broken. You are so broken and messed up that everyone that you come into contact with becomes the same. Why else would your dad leave you like how he did? Sounds pretty messed up to me."

My head pounds with pain and I clutch it with my hands. I hear the throbbing like a heartbeat in my ears and it crescendos to the point where everything becomes unbearable.

I see Clary with tears streaming down her face and a horrified expression before everything fades to black.

********

Minewtenda

As soon as Brenda drove her dagger into the last crank's neck, the trio nearly passed out of exhaustion but Brenda pushed them to run, as the ceiling was gradually cracking more and more during the fight to the point where it would collapse onto them any second. Once again, the girl grabbed the two boys' wrists and guided them through the tunnels and passages until things became quiet.

"ALRIGHT," Minho yelled as he yanked his wrist out of her grasp, "I get that we have to get away from the destruction and the crazies but shuck! Calm down, woman! We're fine!"

Newt collapsed on the spot and Brenda and Minho bent down to assist him.

"Where are we?" Minho questioned, his breaths becoming more consistent.

"The Underneath. It's just a bunch of tunnels and passages that connect all the buildings on this side of the city. Well, that's all we know so far; it could be throughout the whole city." Brenda responded.

"'The Underneath'?" Minho scoffed, "What a dumb shuck name."

"I didn't name it."

"Explored it much?"

"Not really," Brenda answered sheepishly, "too many cranks past the Gone."

Minho nodded and then Brenda stood up, pulling Minho up in the process. "Uh, shank? Wha--"

Brenda took his hands and stared into his eyes. Flustered, Minho just looked all over her face and avoided her eyes. Brenda snorted and then she spoke, "Listen, Minho, you have to take me to WICKED, no matter what. Promise me that. I can't stay and slowly go down the damn spiral of insanity knowing that there was a cure. I'd rather die than let that happen."

"Uh, y-yea. Sure." Minho managed to get out. What's going on? He thought, Why the shuck am I acting like a pansy? Dude. It's just a shuck girl.

Brenda just giggled and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Minho just tried to move on from that, "Hey, uh, what about New--"

Coincidentally, Newt sprang up and started gasping the names of their friends and how they should go find them. Brenda and Minho held him down and the girl told them that Jorge knew what he was doing. She explained that she and Jorge planned to take the Gladers through the city in exchange for taking them back to civilization. Brenda guessed that some of the other cranks she lived with probably figured out what she and Jorge were doing.

"They were the ones who probably blew up the Underneath entrance to, y'know, kill us. Assholes probably thought that we were gonna gang up and kill them." Brenda finished.

"Nice friends." Newt commented.

Brenda just shrugged her shoulders and announced that they would have to go through the Underneath in order to, hopefully, meet up with the rest of the group. Newt and Minho looked at each other skeptically with their expressions silently saying, Should we do this?

"Well?" She asked impatiently.

"Let's go," Minho finally said.

********

Emily

I wake up to see three hazy figures standing over me. I hear one of the voices say, "Is she dead?!"

"No, no. Honey, look! She's opening her eyes!"

My eyes adjust and I see Mrs. Park, Tobias, and my mom.

Toby's eyes light up, "Oh! Look! She's not dead!"

The rest of us laugh at him and he just giggles along. I ask where Clary is and the moms give each other an uneasy look.

I chew my lip, "What?"

"Emily, honey, she's a little... distraught... after what happened with you two in the weapons room. Clar wouldn't tell us anything, she just went to her room and told us to leave her alone," My mom says softly.

I jump off the couch and rush to Clary's room. I see her sitting on her sleeping bag with a photo in her hand. The photo.

I try to quietly walk into the room but she hears me and gives me a cold, "Go away."

"Clary, I --"

"No, I get it. I'm a little bitch. Great. Thanks for letting me know."

I seat myself in front of her but she doesn't lift her head. Her eyes stay glued to the picture of her family and her tears collect in one spot on the sleeping bag. The only thing I can get out is, "I'm sorry."

She doesn't respond and we sit together in complete silence. Minutes pass and nothing changes so I decide to leave and go to the weapons room. Before I leave the door hole, I look back to Clary and her back still faces the exit. I frown with disappointment and guilt starts to build up in me.

I arrive to the outside of the weapons room.

"Emily Gabrielle."

The door slides open and I trudge inside with my fists clenched and my bottom lip between my teeth. Once I relax, the metallic taste of blood trickles into my mouth and I just sigh, wiping my lip with the back of my hand. I walk over to the fallen quiver and pick up a stray arrow. The words that I threw at Clary start to replay in my head and one of the last things sticks out to me:

You are so broken and messed up that everyone that you come into contact with becomes the same.

I realize that maybe I wasn't just talking about Clary but I was talking about myself.

I hate that.

I hate me.

My eyes wander to the fletching and it's green. Poison arrow. It seems like it's trying to tell me something.

This could be your solace. This can make everything better.

I could end things, right here and now. It tempts me but.... I can't do this.

Right Arm or not, I can't stay here or else I'll put everyone at risk, just like the gladers.

I have to leave and this time, I can't be found. I can't hurt anyone anymore.

I stock up on weapons: the compound bow and a new quiver, a pistol and a holster for it, and a knife and holster. In a small room beside the targets, I find a thin hooded jacket and a backpack of supplies. I suit up and then take a look at myself in the mirror. I pull the wide hood over my head and it conceals all of my face except for my mouth. I turn away and head towards the door.

I make my way through the building and end up in front of my mom's office. I leave some things on her desk.

Mom,

I'm sorry. I can't hurt anyone else. I don't know what you could have seen in me, what with tattooing my name on my neck beforehand and not Teresa's (Dee Dee). I'm useless and I won't be able to do anything good for Right Arm.

Don't go looking for me. I love you.

- Emily

Clary,

You have every right to be mad at me but I have to let you know something: Ryan is alive.

To me and to my other friends, he's known as Minho. Maybe you'll find him, he looks pretty much the same as he did in the photo you have. If you find him and also find someone named Newt with him... tell Newt that I'm sorry.

I know that I said that you won't ever be like Ryan but you already are. You're smart, funny, sassy, skilled, strong, and brave; just like Ryan. You've learned to be like this even after being broken. You were and are able to put the pieces back together and become something even better.

Meeting you is something I'll never forget.

- Em

Once I'm at the front exit, I adjust the straps of the backpack and the quiver and I get the same feeling I got when I left the gladers: a mix of shame and reassurance.

My feet hit the sand and I run.

********

Author's Note:

Ha. Minewtenda. Good name, am I right?

Jokes. I don't know what I was thinking.

Sorry the writing in this chapter is kinda crappy. asfghjkll

-Rach(: