Three days.

     You had never not eaten for three days. Three days of your stomach trying to eat itself inside out. Three days of nothing but water, and a still dry throat. Three days of pure hell.

     You spent most of these laying on your bunk, eyes closed, trying to think of anything but food. Food.

     Your head pounding, you squeezed your eyes shut tighter and begged for sleep. Most of the other girls had the same -- even Teresa, who had paced back and forth the room outside for almost half of the first day. After that, everyone else just kind of assumed it was okay to settle down, and now there were almost no sounds, except for the occasional stomach rumble or creak of a bed.

     After a few hours of throbbing headaches and clenched eyelids, sleep finally took you.

     You awoke to a loud crash that felt like it shook the entire building. Frankly, you were a little surprised you were still alive, but your head hurt almost three times as bad as it did before your nap. Groaning, you used the last bit of your remaining energy to push yourself off your bed, and stumble to the doorway. Not one of the girls looked up.

     "H-hello?" you forced out, peeking out into the big white room. When no one answered, you ventured out farther until you could see everything that had been set out on the far side. Piles of brown sacks and plastic bags on tarps, overflowing boxes and bowls of fruit. You rubbed your eyes and stared at the floor, your ears ringing.

     It wasn't a hallucination, right? Was that actually...?

     "Food!" you yelled, half running half stumbling over to it. You reached out and grabbed a granola bar out of one of the open bags, yanked off the wrapper, and bit a huge chunk out of it. In fact, you were so caught up in trying not to inhale the rest of your granola, and reaching for another one, that you almost didn't notice the man sitting at a desk behind the huge piles of food.

     A few girls came bustling out of the room, and upon seeing the food, scrambled over each other to get to it. You swallowed your bite and set down your bar down long enough to speak. Your voice sounded rough and vibrated in your head when you spoke.

     "Who're you?" 

 The man, who either hadn't heard you or just chose to ignore you, didn't look up from what he was reading. You stood up shakily and took a few steps closer. A sharp pain shot through your nose as you bumped into what felt like.... glass. You bounced back, your hands shooting to your face, and the man -- who'd looked up at the sound of you banging into whatever barrier was separating him from the rest of you -- didn't miss your shocked expression.

     "Should've been more careful girlie," he chuckled, setting his book down. You shook your head as your vision once again became blurry -- but you recognized that voice...

     "Janson," you hissed, glaring at him. He was dressed fully in a clean white suit -- white shoes, white coat, white socks. "W-what did you do to me? Why am I here?" The questions spilled out before you could fully process them. He just laughed again, a nasally chuckle that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end and leaned forward, hands on his desk.

     "I don't know what you're talking about," Janson said, speaking slowly as if for some reason he thought you were having trouble understanding him. "I'm just here to explain things to you guys -- and give you a mission." He paused to look down at the white watch strapped to his wrist. "But, you guys still have.... forty more minutes to eat, so I suggest you take advantage of that time." With that, he relaxed back into his chair, picked up his book, and flipped it open, beady eyes darting back and forth across the pages.

     You narrowed your eyes but didn't say anything else. How could he do that? Throw you in here and pretend like he had no idea what you were talking about!

     You reached out in front of you and felt your hand rest on something smooth. I definitely felt like glass, cold and slick, but there was nothing there. Not one smudge or slight reflection, and Jason's voice wasn't muffled when he spoke. Well, you thought with distaste, if they managed to get me here while I was sleeping, I guess I shouldn't be surprised.

     "You should eat," a girl piped up behind you. You turned to see Harriet walking over, offering a reassuring smile and a small nod. "It's probably best to take the time he's giving us." You shook your head, but didn't argue, and walked slowly back to where you'd been sitting. A few girls had already dove into the mountain of food, and it was now spilling over onto the floor. You reached out and grabbed the first thing your hand found -- a packet of what looked like trail mix, and tore it open. You emptied it into your mouth and reached for another.

     "Careful," a girl said next to you. She had long brown hair that had been tied up in a knot on the top of her head, and she was holding a half-eaten apple in one hand. "Don't eat too fast, or you'll just throw it up again." You didn't even pause to acknowledge that you'd heard her, but forced yourself to chew a little slower.

     If you hadn't been so hungry, you probably would've spent more time worrying about what Janson had said. But you just tried to enjoy this moment and shoved him into the back of your mind.

     You could already feel energy trickling back into your body after one more bar of granola, and an orange. After you'd finished eating, you had to force yourself to stand again and go get a drink of water from the bathroom. You were leaning over the faucet, guzzling as much of the tap water as you could in one breath when the door slammed open and someone grabbed the back of your hair. They pulled your head back with such force that you almost fell over backward.

     "I know what you are," she hissed, and you recognized the voice almost immediately as Teresa's. "You're with them. With Him." You tried to shove her off, but you still felt weak, and your muscles were still pretty useless.

     "T-Teresa, what you are talking about?" You spat, reaching up to grab the hand she had balled into your hair. "What's happened to you?" She glared at you again but didn't say anything, as if she was contemplating what you'd said, and whether to answer. You stood like that for a minute, her glowering at you and you trying to stare back at her.

     "You-" she started, then sighed and dropped her gaze, quickly releasing your head. She took a few steps back, her gaze still on the ground. You furrowed your brows in confusion, tensing up as she moved her hand up to reach for the doorknob. What in the world had gotten into her?

     "Watch your back." she spat quickly, before slipping back through the door, letting it swing closed behind her. You stood frozen for a few seconds, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Of course, you'd met Teresa briefly back in the Maze, and she had seemed nice enough -- definitely not the type to ambush and threaten someone in a bathroom.

     Taking a deep breath, you stepped out and back into the large room, trying your best to look calm, as if you hadn't just been assaulted by some crazy, brainwashed girl.

     Janson was still sitting at his desk, reading his little black book, legs crossed across the shiny wooden surface. You sat back down, leaning against the invisible wall, legs pulled up to your chest. You glanced over to see Harriet clumped together with a few other girls, and they were all talking quietly under their breaths. A blonde girl seemed to have taken charge of the food, and now had a few others organizing it into different piles.

     You closed your eyes and leaned your head back against the glassy wall. You thought about Newt, and Thomas and the other Gladers who may still be stuck in the Maze. Did they ever get out?  You had no idea if you'd ever even see them again.

     "Alright ladies!" Janson called from behind you. You heard the squeaking of his chair on the tile floor as he pushed it back from his desk. The rustling of papers and the sound they made as he tossed them onto the desk. "I guess it's time I explained some things."