I wake up to someone poking me, then a hand slams over my mouth. My eyes pop open and I start to panic. Where am I? what's going on? Whaa...Then I remember yesterday.

I calm down marginally and look at the person attached to the hand, which happens to be Newt. He puts his finger to his lips, mouthing for me to be quiet. I nod, and only then does he finally take his hand off my mouth. I groan and roll onto my side.

"Five more minutes" I mumble into my pillow. I don't want to face the reality that awaits me. The fact that I'm still here, and still don't remember anything. Just the thought of more questions makes my head hurt. Newt shakes his head no and motions for me to follow him.

What time is it anyways?  I glance at the window. The sky is still a hazy dark gray, with the first rays of orange sunlight barely reaching over the horizon. Reluctantly, I sigh and roll off the bed. Might as well get whatever this was over with. Glancing at Kate, who lay still sleeping on her bed, I follow Newt out the door.

Silently, I resolve to be strong today, to try and find out as much as I can, and do my best to adjust. I'd allowed myself to be weak last night, but that had to stop. Crying all the time wasn't going to help anybody get home. Including me. Somehow, I knew the faster I got over it all the better it would be. There had to be a reason behind all this right? Well it certainly wasn't to mope around. And if I found the reason I was here, maybe I could find a way home. And if everyone was really sent here just like me, then maybe I could find a way to get them out too.

I have to skip a few stairs to catch up with Newt, as he is walking ridiculously fast for this early in the morning. I guessed I didn't like mornings, thought I didn't really know.

"where are we going and why so eearly?"  I groan once I'm finally beside him. He just shushes me and continues walking. Maybe Newt doesn't like mornings either.

I follow him out of the homestead and over to the closest wall, sidestepping sleeping people all along the way. The sun is just beginning to filter in, and it makes navigating the mass of sleeping bodies rather difficult. Still, I manage to make it without stepping on anyone. Once at the wall, Newt motions me towards a small window. The glass is thick and dusty, making it hard to see through.

"Those are why you don't want to go out in the bloody maze at night," He tilts his head to the side, "or ever for that matter. No one allowed out there except the runners and even then only during the day."  I hesitate. what could be out there?

"Well go on, look at it, I haven't got all bloody day," Newt says, sounding rather annoyed. I turn and put my face against the glass, straining to see what's on the other side. What I finally do see, turns my insides to mush. A creature stands in front of the glass, it's ugly shape illuminated in the pale sunlight. It's about the size of a cow but with no definite shape, looking more like a blob of slimy green flesh. All along its body, at seemingly random intervals, are arm like appendages with some serious weaponry. I see saw blades, things that look like swords, metal spikes and even needles. Half monster and half machine, the thing is horrifying to say the least, like something from a bad science-fiction horror movie. Not something you want to run into. It jumps at the glass and I flinch, stumbling backwards a few steps before regaining my balance.

"What is that thing?" I ask, disgusted with the fleshy creature. I'm pretty sure that image is burned in my mind forever. Great. Why couldn't I have forgotten that? I forget my entire life but one look at this thing and it's stuck forever, how ironic.

"We call em' grievers, nasty little buggers they are." Newt answers pointing at the window. "One sting and you'll know why we call em' grievers."

"They sting?" I ask, suddenly curious.

"Ya and it's not pretty." For a moment we both stand there just staring at the glass. "Well come on time for the tour." He says eventually, pulling me away from the window.

Newt points in the direction of a small grove of trees in the southwest corner of the glade. It looks dark, and I wonder how far back it goes, but even the trees are dwarfed by the enormity of the walls.

"That's the deadheads, we use it as our cemetery," he explains. Well that explains the name but it's kinda creepy if you ask me. I'm about to ask why you need a cemetery in a place full of teenagers, when a horrible image of the griever pops into my head. Oh, that's why I think, answering my own question.

"Right well moving on," Newt says it like he doesn't want to spend anymore time there than necessary. Can't say I blame him. He points toward a small building, made of concrete blocks with a large steel door as its only apparent entrance. "That's the map room, only runners allowed in there."

"What exactly are runners again?" I keep hearing people say it but no one had actually explained it. Maybe it's one of the few questions someone can actually answer for me.

"They're the ones who go into the maze and look for an exit." Newt says waving me off as if I should know this by now.

"Oh" is all I can say. I'm too busy thinking about the stupid griever again. Will that image ever get out of my mind?

Next we walk toward a pen full of animals. "This is the animal pens, the slicers work here, they take care of all animal related things, including well... ya know." Newt says hinting toward a boy cutting up what used to be a pig.

"Ya I got it." I tell him, the name being pretty self explanatory.

"Ok well over there is the fields" he says, pointing towards the other end of what he calls the glade. "Track hoes work there and it's where we grow most of our food."

"Hey speaking of food.... what do ya say we grab some?" Newt asks, gesturing towards the kitchen.

"Sure, I'm starving." I had never eaten breakfast and by now my stomach was growling.

"Good that, greenie ." Newt says, laughing and heading for the homestead. I can't quite find it in me to join in his laughter. There is simply too much new. New things everywhere, things I don't understand, and things I'm not sure I want to understand. New people, places and names, and it's all too much.

Eating is a nearly silent affair, as I pick at my food, losing appetite every time an image of the griever pops into my head. Newt seems to understand my need to process it all, and thankfully doesn't try to make conversation.

Afterwards he resumes the tour, explaining the different jobs as he goes : bagger, med-jack, track hoe, brick-nick, runner, builder, slicer, cook, and slopper. The only ones that even sound remotely interesting are the med-jack and the runner. He says I have to try them all anyways.

"Ok, one more place then we're done." Newt says as we reach some sort of construction site. Good. I'm not sure I could handle much more information.

"This is where the builders work." He says, pointing to the construction site. Several boys hammer and saw away at various pieces of wood, while others are building what appear to be bricks of sorts.

"Gee thanks Newt couldn't have figured that one out." I roll my eyes, by now I'm pretty tired and starting to get annoyed.  He just shakes his head and laughs. I like Newt, he seems to take my defensive sarcasm pretty well, while still understanding my need to adjust to it all. Also, he seems to be the one who knows the most about what's going on here. His quiet stability helps me to find my own.

I notice one of the builders staring at me, his eyes hard and calculating. His beyond angry expression causes me to shiver, though it's not even remotely cold in the glade. Truthfully, the temperature is suspiciously perfect.

"What's his problem?" I quietly ask Newt, hoping the boy doesn't hear.

"Oh that's Gally, he got stung and now, well just try and stay out of his way." He replies. The boy, Gally, must have heard however, as he walks quickly in our direction.

"That's right greenie, stay the klunk out of my way, or I'll throw you off the cliff." He snarls, pointing a finger in my face. On instinct I slip my knife from my pocket and put it up against his finger. Not quite pushing hard enough to cut him. yet.

Sudden confidence I didn't know I had pushes me further. "Do that again and you'll be missing some fingers." I hiss, enjoying the shocked look on his face. Newt shoves us apart, looking quite surprised himself. Gally sends me a look of hatred before walking off. I will not let these people scare me. I can't. If I'm going to survive here, I know I will have to hold my own.

"Where did you get a bloody knife?" Newt asks.

I shrug and put it back in my pocket, "it was in the box with me."

"So you opened those supply boxes?" He asks, his eyes widening in realization. I nod my reply.

"We wondered why those were open," He says, looking thoughtful, "I don't guess I could get you to give it up?" He says it as more of a statement than a question.

"Not a chance."

"Alright, well let's get going," He sighs. I'm surprised he doesn't argue, but I'm glad I get to keep my knife. Somehow, it makes me feel safer.

"So the supply boxes?" I ask, looking over Newt's shoulder at the small metal hatch covering the box. I shudder at the  memory of being inside it.

"What about it?"

"How... I mean... Do you know what you're going to get or does random stuff just show up?"

"Well," Newt begins, "it goes like this, once a month we get a new greenie." He nods his head in my direction, "but once a week it comes up with just supplies, some of it's stuff we asked for, some of its just general supplies."

"Wait, how do you ask for stuff?" I say, considering asking for a ride home.

"We just drop a note in the box," Newt says shrugging, "and no, we don't get everything we ask for."

I open my mouth to reply, but shut it again, knowing he'd answered my question without my asking. The whole thing just depressed me.

We start heading toward the homestead, me asking three hundred more questions about the maze and newt trying to answer as many as possible.

"Geez you ask a lot of bloody questions greenie." He says, sounding annoyed.  Well what does he expect from someone with no memory?  I'm about to ask some more when a boy comes walking over to us. The boy is short, but looks to be about seventeen with hair that's surprisingly already starting to turn grey.

"Hey Clint," Newt says, stepping towards the boy. I'm not interested in their conversation, so instead I turn around and stare through the doors into the maze. I wonder what it's like out there? Could I be a runner? I probably could, considering my body seems to be in great physical condition. I stare at the ivy laced walls until I hear Newt calling my name.

"Greenie! Hey, Greenie!" He yells trying to get my attention.  I finally tear my eyes away from the maze and turn to face him.  He's about to say something when–