Disclaimer: I give James Dashner full credit for the Maze Runner Trilogy. The only character I own is Kelley.

My eyes were puffy and I felt dehydrated. I had woken up an hour ago, but I didn't want to move. There was no reason for me to get up and continue with my day. The world was being yanked out from under my feet and I didn't even know why.

Clint forced me to eat some breakfast as he switched out the bandages on my arm. He tried to ask me what I was upset about, but I couldn't answer. I didn't know how to answer. I should have at least given him some kind of acknowledgment before he left, but it occurred to me too late.

Newt came to visit me during lunch to ask how I was and if I was still up for working as a Slicer this afternoon. I was about to say no, but the look Newt gave me told me that I should at least try. 

His face lit up when I agreed to give it my best shot.

The next week and a half went by in a blur. My ankle healed and Clint took out the stitches from my arm.

I was led through all the jobs and for some of them, I did pretty well. Others...not so much. 

I hated being a Slicer. I love meat and all, but cutting it is a different story. Super dangerous, super bloody. All kinds of eugh.

I was a decent bricknick and builder. Gally didn't have to yell at me too many times.

Clint said I was a stellar med-jack. It wasn't the job I quite had in mind for myself, though.

Frypan said I needed work as a cook, but he had been wanting an assistant for a while. I told him I'd be willing to do so. That seemed to make him happy.

The Baggers gave me a rundown of how to dispose of dead bodies and tested me on my strength. They really creeped me out. I wasn't upset about not fitting the Bagger requirements.

Zart was impressed with my precision in pulling weeds. He was also proud that I was willing to get dirty.

"I thought girls were typically against dirt." Zart had said.

I shrugged, "I'm probably not like most girls."

I even spent some time with the Sloppers. Newt had told me that if I wasn't really good at anything else, I'd be a Slopper. They do a lot of the dirty work that no one else was willing to do and I did not enjoy myself.

Newt walked with me to dinner after what I thought was my last day of trying out jobs.

"Which job are you hoping for?"

I shrugged, trying to hide a smirk, "Not sure. Anything but a Track-hoe. There's this one shank who just can't seem to shut up around me."

He smiled and rolled his eyes, "What a bloody slinthead."

I laughed, "That's exactly what I thought."

He laughed with me.

"Cook or Track-hoe would be nice. I'll take either one."

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, "Is one preferred over the other?"

"Maybe," I felt my cheeks start to flush a little.

Spending time with Newt lately had been something out of a fairytale. He made me laugh all the time, treated me like royalty and always listened when I needed him to. 

I wanted to tell him how I felt so many times, but it was too soon. I mean, how were you supposed to tell someone that you had had feelings for them ever since you met? That there was some strange feeling you had known each other before and it had meant something really special? Newt probably would have thought I was crazy. 

We got our food and sat down at the base of a tree we had claimed as our own. It was large and possibly an oak. There was no time I reassured more than the time I spent with Newt. He was a bright spot in my life. He gave me hope that wherever I was, that no matter what happened, things would be alright because he would be there for me. 

Stories of the day's occurrences were told. Laughs were shared and blushing was abundant.

Towards the end of dinner, Minho walked up to us.

"You ready for tomorrow, Greenie?"

I was confused, "What do you mean?"

He raised an eyebrow, "Did you already forget?"

I looked at Newt. He wouldn't look at me but grabbed my plate. He looked upset like something was really bothering him.

I looked back at Minho, "As far as I know, I haven't forgotten anything. What are you talking about?"

He rolled his eyes, "I guess Alby failed to mention to you that you're running with me tomorrow."

I dropped the apple I had in my hand.

"Excuse me?"

"Don't get too riled up, shank. We need Runners. It's for the good of the Glade." He walked away without another word.

I looked at Newt, "What was that all about?"

Newt picked at the grass, obviously trying to avoid the conversation.

"Newt. Answer me. What was Minho shucking talking about?"

He looked up, but not at me, "Alby thinks it's a bloody brilliant idea for you to be a Runner."

It took me a while to fully register what Newt had said. I felt as if everything in the world froze. My heart was beating in my ears, louder and louder as each second passed by. It almost became hard to breathe. Panic started to settle in. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck start to stand up. Flashes of the horrors I had experienced before played through my mind. They had grown more haunting since I first arrived. 

My hands began to shake and Newt noticed.

"Kelley, are you alright?"

I shook my head vigorously, "I'm not going back out there."

He placed a hand on my shoulder, "It's alright."

I looked at him, "Can't you do something about this? I thought you were second-in-command. Doesn't your word have any weight to it?"

There was a flash of agitation in his face, "Alby's the real leader. What he says, goes. What do you expect me to do about it?"

Why was he so compliant all of a sudden? I knew Newt respected Alby, but this was different. He just took this order without question even though he understood the trauma the maze had put me through. He acted as if Alby had asked a simple request from me, like make dinner for a night so that Frypan could have a break. Anger began to churn inside of me, replacing my fear. I could feel blood rush up to my face.

I pushed his hand off of me, "Since when do we need to do every single shucking thing that Alby tells us we should do?"

"Kelley, you know very well why we need to obey Alby." 

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Yes, I completely understand why we should obey the leader, but why this? This is no longer a rule that's easy to obey and essential to survival. Obeying this would actually put my life in danger. Why didn't Newt understand this? Did he not care as much as I did? Newt's indifference was like salt in the wound. 

"I don't understand why I'm being sent out into the maze after all of this. Didn't you fend for me when Alby brought this up? Didn't you tell him how I swore on my life I'd never go out into that hell-hole again?"

He scrunched his eyebrows together, "Don't be daft. Of course, I stood up for you. Alby almost tossed me out of the room."

I rolled my eyes. 

"We all have a role to play, and if your's is to go out into that maze, no matter how much you and I shucking hate it, that's what you bloody need to do."

I was outraged. Whose side was he on? I could feel Newt's irritation and there was a small voice that told me to stop pushing, but I didn't listen. I was too angry to think. I couldn't hold it in. All my fear was manifesting itself through aggression. I started to yell.

"I see how it is! While you get to stay in here and grow frickin' daisies or whatever the shuck you do, I'm forced out into the maze to die! You haven't been tortured by the maze like I have. You don't understand anything. You don't even care what happens to me, do you? So don't tell me what my role is!"

His face dropped. His eyes began to water and he looked down.

I immediately regretted everything I had said. All feelings of contention left me quicker than they had appeared. I wanted to apologize. I wanted to explain that I was just upset and didn't mean it. This isn't how I wanted things to go. Before I could get it out, he stood up and handed me back my plate.

"Take your own bloody plate for once." Then he walked away.

I sat there in a daze. I was stunned. The rush of so many emotions at once left me blank. It was almost like I had lost the ability to feel. I must have sat there for a good 15 minutes before Clint walked up to me.

"Hey, you should be getting back to your bed to rest for tomorrow. You need your ankle to function as properly as possible for all that running."

I sighed and stood up, "Does everyone know?"

He raised an eyebrow, "What? Of course. It's huge news. Did you not know?"

I just shook my head and walked back over to the kitchen to put my plate away. Newt usually did it for me. He's such a gentleman. It was one of the reasons I admired and loved him. 

On my way up to my room, I saw Alby down the hall. Anger and frustration waved over me once more. It wasn't something I could suppress. I needed to take it out. Tears started welling up in my eyes. Before I could realize what I was doing, I had walked right up to Alby. He was talking with Jack about something. I glared at him and pointed a finger in his face.

"You're a shuck-face." It came out more bitter than I had expected...but it felt good.

I didn't want to stay around long enough to receive a punishment. I turned around just as the tears streamed down my face and left Alby confused with a sniggering Jack. 

I couldn't control my emotions at all once I got to my room. It was as if someone had flipped a switch in my brain to "on". I cried.

While I got dressed and laid in bed I kept running the fight over in my head. Thinking of how I could have expressed my concerns without pestering Newt. Thinking about how it would have gone if Minho had never shown up. I had to apologize to Newt. It was horrid enough that I had to go into the maze tomorrow, but now the only person I truly cared for here wanted nothing to do with me as far as I was concerned. 

I started sobbing so bad that I was shaking the bed a bit. By some miracle, sleep took hold of me and dragged me away into a nightmare about grievers and not having enough toilet paper.

*********************

A bright light pierced through my lids and forced me to wake up. I made the poor mistake of opening my eyes. 

"Agh!" I yelled.

I felt like my retinas had been ripped out. I blinked a few times until I was able to see again, but there were still those weird floaties that made it impossible to decipher the person who had interrupted my sleep.

"Come on, Greenie. The walls will be opening soon. We don't have time to be lying around like a couple of slintheads."

I recognized the voice. I moaned and rubbed my face to wake myself up a little more. Minho turned off his flashlight and I looked out my window. The sun hadn't even risen, it was only first light.

"Shuck it, Minho. Do we really have to get up at the crack of dawn?"

"Only if you want to get back to the Glade before the Doors close." 

I rolled my eyes and sat up.

"Alright, but let me get changed first."

I stood up and started moving around. I noticed Minho hadn't left. I stared at him for a while. He didn't move.

"Minho. Get out."

He must have been as tired as I was because he snapped out of whatever daze he was in and nodded. He shut the door behind him.

I grabbed my shirt and pants and looked at my shoes, the stupid monstrosities that they were. There was no way running in them all day was going to be good for my feet, but I put them on anyway not knowing what else to do.

I thought about Newt again. I wondered if I'd be able to see him before I ran off with Minho. Dread filled my gut as I worried if Newt would even forgive me. I had been insensitive and harsh. There was no reason for him to accept my apology.

I sighed and opened the door to my room.

"I'm ready."

Minho nodded and walked down the stairs of the Homestead. When we got out, we took a turn and went around the building. I was confused until we faced a crooked cranny with a small, poorly built shed. Minho pulled out a key and unlocked the shabby door. He turned on the flashlight and started shuffling the stuff around, looking for something. I had to go on my tippy toes to look past him to see what was inside. There were ropes, chains and other odds and ends. Minho pulled out a box and turned off the flashlight before I could make anything else out. He opened the box and inside it was shoes, running shoes. I was so happy to know I wouldn't be using my own for this.

"This right here is the number one supply we get," Minho announced. "At least for Runners. They send new ones in the Box every so often. If we had bad shoes, we'd have feet that would look like freaking Mars."

I laughed softly.

Minho bent over and rummaged through the box. "What size shoe do you wear?"

"Uhhh..." I took off my right boot and found a label on the inside. "It says that I'm a seven."

He chuckled a bit, "That's some small feet, Greenie."

I narrowed my eyes, "I'm sure it's perfectly normal for girls, and my name is Kelley."

He rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath as he handed me my shoes. I put them on and left my boots in the closet as he rummaged around some more. He stood up and handed me a digital, plastic wristwatch. It was black and simple. 

"Only Runners and Keepers get these. Put it on and never take it off. Your life may depend on it." He gave me a very serious look.

I nodded and put the watch on my right wrist.

"If Alby and the other Keepers decide that you aren't supposed to be a Runner, you'll give it back, and return to wearing your old shoes. Good that, shank?"

"Good that."

Minho continued. "Here's a backpack. It has a small first aid kit in the front pocket. We'll stop by the kitchen next so you can put water bottles and a lunch inside."

I took the backpack. "You guys really have this stuff thought through."

"After a couple of years of running your butt off, you start learning what you need and ask for it." He started stuffing things into his own backpack. 

Minho looked up at me, "How do the shoes feel?"

I moved around in them a bit. They felt really comfortable. I wondered if I could work out some kinks with Alby so I could keep a pair of these, even though I wasn't going to be a Runner.

"They feel great."

He shook his head. "You look like an idiot prancing around like a shuck ballerina." 

I looked at him, "Great one, Minho. You should use that more often."

He stood up and put the backpack on, then smacked his forehead. 

"I almost forgot to give you a weapon."

"Weapon?" I asked.

"Yup, help me move these boxes."

We walked into the shed and moved a couple of boxes against the back wall. This uncovered a trapdoor. He pulled up the door and revealed a set of wooden stairs leading into blackness.

"We keep them hidden so shanks like Gally can't get to 'em."

I nervously laughed. I wasn't sure how I felt about this, but it made sense. With creatures like grievers running about freely in the maze, I'd take all the weapons you could give.

"Come on." He said.

He went down first and I followed him. The stairs creaked underneath our weight and we finally came down to a dirt floor after a dozen steps or so. The cool air was refreshing, despite the dust and strong smell of mildew. I couldn't see a thing until Minho turned on a single lightbulb by pulling a string. I slightly gasped at what I saw.

The room was about thirty square feet. Wooden shelves lined the walls, and there were several blocky wooden tables. Everything in sight was covered with all manner of junk that gave me the creeps. Wooden poles, metal spikes, large pieces of chicken wire, rolls of barbed wire, saws, knives, swords. One entire wall was dedicated to archery: wooden bows, arrows, spare strings. There was a layer of dust that covered almost everything. I guess they didn't go down here often. It was somewhat reassuring.

"Don't use most of them, but you never know. All we usually take is just a few sharp knives." Minho said.

He nodded towards a large wooden chest in the corner. Its top open and leaning against the wall. There were tons knives of all shapes and sizes stacked haphazardly all the way to the top.

"Choose a few, make sure they're nice and sharp." 

I walked over and grabbed a few long ones with really sharp blades. I put them in the backpack and looked over at the archery wall. It seemed to be calling me, so I walked over to it and started plucking at the string of one of the longbows.

"You like bows?" Minho asked.

"I think so, it's just a feeling."

I grabbed the bow and played around with it a bit.

"Do you know how to shoot?"

I shrugged, "Maybe."

Minho stared at me and then walked over to one of the shelves and took all the stuff off of it, placing them on the floor. Then he removed the board they were resting on and carved into it with one of the nearby knives. He placed the board back on the wall vertically, to where I could see what he had carved. It was a target.

"Shoot it," Minho ordered.

"What?" I was surprised by how random this was.

"I said, shoot at the shucking target." 

I slowly nodded my head and grabbed an arrow. I went to the opposite side of the room and notched the arrow. I breathed a few times and then pulled the string back. It was harder than I expected. I wasn't sure how long I could hold it, so I quickly aimed and let go.

It found it's home near the center of the target. I smiled. I thought I did pretty nicely, but when I looked at Minho he seemed unimpressed. I let my smile slack and he took the arrow out of the board and put them back in their places.

"Not bad for a Greenbean."

"Stop calling me that."

He shook his head, "I don't think I'm going to."

I sighed heavily and placed the bow on the wall. Minho put everything back on the shelf and turned to me.

"Alright, we'll have breakfast real quick and pack a lunch, then I want to spend some time in the Map Room before we leave." 

"The Map Room?"

I was starting to think that Minho was taking this training a little too serious. I hoped he wasn't actually thinking I was going to be a real Runner.

Minho nodded, "Don't klunk your pants, Greenie. It's just a room."

I scowled. He was never going to call me by my actual name, was he?

We walked up the ladder. Minho closed the trap door and moved the boxes back over it. We walked out of the shed and he locked the door. Then we walked over to the kitchen.

Frypan was already up and making breakfast for the early birds. It was oatmeal, toast, and bacon. Minho told me to go really easy on what I ate since running with a full stomach is no bueno. Despite his warning, I snuck five more pieces of bacon from Frypan and ate them. 

After about ten minutes, we left the Homestead with full stomachs and a packed lunch in our bags. The sun had already risen and Gladers were already out and eating breakfast. 

On our way to the Map Room, I noticed Newt. He was walking in our general direction. My heart began to race. Was he coming to talk to me? What do I say to him?

He was within four feet when I decided to speak up.

"Look, Newt, about yesterday I just want to..."

I would have continued, but he wasn't even looking at me. He walked right past. Not a glance. Nothing to even hint he had noticed me. The only sign of emotion on his face was his scrunched eyebrows. 

He was still upset. My chest felt like it wanted to cave in on itself and I was worried I would start crying in front of Minho.

"Come on, Kelley." Minho's voice was gentle.

I blinked away the tears and followed Minho. He was silent the entire way and I was thankful for it.

We arrived at the Map Room. Minho unlocked the door, spinning the wheel handle until an audible click was made from the inside. He pulled and the heavy metal door opened with a squeal.

"After you," he left the door open for me.

I stepped inside. The Map Room smelt so strongly of musty copper that I could taste it. I began to wonder if anyone had asked for air fresheners from the Creators. I made a mental note to remember this.

Minho flicked a switch and a fluorescent light turned on to full strength. I had to squint for a while.

The room was very simple. Concrete walls with no decoration whatsoever, a wooden table in the exact center with eight chairs tucked in around it and eight trunks evenly spaced around the room. On the table were neatly stacked papers and pencils, one for each chair.

"This is the Map Room," Minho said. "As happy a place as you could ever visit."

"Too bad it smells like an abandoned copper mine."

"I kinda like the smell." Minho pulled out two chairs and sat in one of them. "I want you to look at a few maps to get a picture in your head."

I sat down and Minho grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil and started drawing. He drew a big box that almost took up the entire paper, then filled it with other squares to where it looked like a tic-tac-toe board. He wrote GLADE in the middle box and marked the surrounding boxes one through eight, starting up in the left corner and going clockwise. Then he drew little random notches here and there.

"These are the doors." He pointed to the notches. "You know about the ones from the Glade, but there are four more out in the Maze that leads to Sections One, Three, Five, and Seven. They stay in the same spot, but the route there changes with the wall movements every night." He spun the paper to where I could see it better and put it in front of me.

"Well, that's fun," I said sarcastically.

I was surprised at how organized the maze was. I hadn't kept track of where I was going the first time, so it had all seemed pretty random to me. Not anymore. I kept staring at the paper while Minho continued.

"So we have the Glade which is surrounded by eight Sections, each one a self-contained square and unsolvable for two years since we began this freaking game. The only thing that's approaching the term 'exit' is the Cliff and let me tell you, that ain't a good exit unless you like falling to a horrible death."

"What's the Cliff?"

"Worry about it later. We try to have at least eight Runners, including the Keeper. One for each Section. It takes us a whole day to map out our area, hoping against hope there's an exit, then we come back and draw it up, a separate page for each day." Minho glanced over at one of the trunks. "That's why those things are shuck full of Maps."

I walked over and looked at the maps. They were like the one Minho had drawn, roughly sketched squares with a section number on the outside, but these had the squares filled in, a name written in the corner, and a day.

"We figured out that the walls were moving from the beginning. As soon as we did, we started keeping track. We've always thought that comparing these day to day, week to week, would help us figure out a pattern. The mazes basically repeat themselves about every month. But we've yet to see an exit open up that will lead us out of the square. Never been an exit."

"There has to be at least some kind of connection to an exit. Shouldn't there be some other way to figure this out?"

Minho shrugged. "I don't know. It's kind of depressing, but we don't know what else to do. Can't take a chance that one day, in one spot, somewhere, an exit might appear. We can't give up. Ever."

I stared at the maps for a second. I couldn't shake this feeling that there was a way out.

"We'll find it soon."

"How soon is 'soon'?" Minho asked.

"I don't know. It's just a gut feeling. It could be today, two months from today, or two years."

Minho stared at me for a while. "Alright. Ready?"

It took me a while to figure out what he meant. "Oh, um...sure."

He raised an eyebrow, "There's no 'um...sure'. Now, are you ready?"

I took a deep breath and set a map down on the table, "Yes."

Minho nodded and we walked out of the Map Room. When it was locked, we walked over to the West Door. 

The hallway looked eerie. Shivers ran down my back and I felt my hands shaking again. My breaths started becoming shallow. Images from my nightmares were flipping through my mind like a slide show. I felt a hand on my shoulder.

I looked at Minho. He looked at me as if asking me if I was okay. I nodded and faced the maze again.

"Let's do this," I ran in along with Minho.

****************

Running through the maze was easier than I had expected. Well, I mean, compared to when I was running for my life it was much easier. The maze seemed somewhat calming when you were with someone else. The silence wasn't unsettling, it was relaxing. The ivy growing on the walls almost looked beautiful. Being a Runner was starting to be not all that bad. The only hard part was trying to memorize the twists and turns of the maze.

Somewhere around noon, we stopped to have lunch.

I was devouring my sandwich when I noticed something on the wall across from us. It was covered in ivy, so I got up and started pulling the vines away from it.

"What are you doing, shank?" Minho asked.

It was a sign. It was a plate of metal slapped onto the stone. It said:

WORLD IN CATASTROPHE:

KILLZONE EXPERIMENT DEPARTMENT

"What is this?"

He leaned over to see what I was looking at.

"Oh, that. They're just little presents from the Creators, like labels for their shucking great work."

I didn't like this. Especially the world in catastrophe part. Was that really what was happening outside of the maze? And was up with the word experiment?

I didn't want to think about it, so I sat back down and finished my food.

"Come on, let's get back to it." Minho got up and nudged my leg with his foot.

I stood up and put my backpack on. 

We started running again. My ankle wasn't hurting as bad as I thought it would. It was tolerable, but I had to slow down to a fast walk to give it a break every once in a  while.

We cut down vines on the walls as we ran to mark where we were. I felt sort of cool as I ran along without even stopping, chopping off vines like some professional adventurer from a movie. I didn't realize I was smiling until Minho looked back at me and started laughing a little. I told him to shut up.

After a couple more turns Minho had me cut down another vine and he wrote something down on a notepad. I was about to ask what he had written when I heard the last thing in the world I wanted to hear.

There was a loud scraping sound and an inhuman moan. A drill-like whir followed not too long afterward. 

I stopped and so did Minho. 

This couldn't be happening. It wasn't night. I thought Minho had said that grievers didn't come out during the day. What the shuck was going on here?

It was dead silent and for a second I thought that maybe we were just going crazy and there was nothing there. Minho gestured for me to keep jogging with him, but he was looking around hastily now, surveying each corridor to make sure we wouldn't run into a griever. 

Then it happened again and I felt all hope drain out of me. Metal grinding against stone, groans that came from the ungodly creature that grievers were. It had come from almost directly behind me. Minho turned around before I did and his eyes went wide with horror.

"KELLEY!" 

He started running towards me and my right leg was pulled out from underneath me. I was being dragged on my stomach against the stone floor at an alarming rate. It hurt. My skin was being ruffed up and torn like the ground had turned into sandpaper.

I screamed and tried to turn over. I tried to kick away. I tried to grab for a vine on the wall, but the griever was moving to fast and it was latched on too tightly to my leg for me to move.

My heart was racing and I could still hear Minho yelling after me. He seemed to be losing ground.

I tried to think. How was I supposed to stop this thing? I tried to keep myself from freaking out and finally, I remembered I had weapons. I reached behind me for one of my knives.

My arms were screaming with pain and I could see they were bleeding from being scraped too much. I ignored it and used my legs to pull me closer to the griever's body. I stabbed it decently high and dragged the knife down.

It screeched louder than I could have ever imagined possible for something with no obvious mouth. I covered my ears and it let go of my leg.

I hurt all over, but I sucked it up and stood. Minho came barreling down the corridor and I ran to him.

The griever didn't take long to recover and it started chasing after me again. 

Minho got to me, grabbed my arm and started helping me run away. I looked back and noticed the griever was starting to gang on us. There was no way for us to outrun this thing.

"Don't look back you slinthead! Keep running!" Minho yelled.

I didn't argue. I kept running. I kept pushing. I didn't want to die, but I wanted to at the same time. So much pain and no way out of it. I could feel my ankle starting to give up on me. The griever had not been kind to it.

The griever constantly wailed in our ears, pleading for us to stop and die already.

Minho guided me through since I had lost track of where we were and how we were supposed to get back to the Glade. I could see he was pushing himself to his max as well while trying to keep me from dying. I half expected him to run on without me if I were starting to slow him down. 

His grip was tight on my arm and it was starting to hurt.

What happened next was all too difficult to describe. It had happened too fast. 

I had stepped wrong on my ankle and my leg gave out. The griever had decided at that exact moment to reach out with one of its arms and planted it where I had landed.

I was sure I had never felt pain as fierce as I was experiencing at that moment. I screamed bloody murder. 

Minho charged at the griever and sliced at the arm. It cut in half, leaving the claw lodged in my leg. Blood was everywhere and the griever was screeching at Minho. I pulled back my arm and chucked my knife at it. It plunged itself into the griever and it started wigging out.

There must have been something else going on with it because it started convulsing. It screeched louder and louder until Minho and I had to cover our ears. The griever curled up into a ball and started rolling all over the place, running into the walls over and over again. 

My vision started to get hazy, but I could see it roll away down the corridor and turned, leaving us alone.

I was confused and losing a lot of blood. I could feel my pants being soaked.

"Minho..." My voice was scratchy.

He ran back over to me and looked at my leg.

"Shuck," He looked at me and handed me a water bottle. "Hold onto this, okay?"

I took it without question. What was he doing? Why did I need a water bottle? Then I felt one of his hands placed on my leg. This caused it to hurt more and I cried out.

"Sorry about this Kelley. Brace yourself. On the count of three, okay? One...two...three."

I wasn't ready. There was a sickening ripping noise and my leg roared with pain so deafeningly that I couldn't think of anything else. I squeezed tight on the water bottle and the cap flew off. The water poured out all over the floor. I was screaming and crying. My leg felt like it had been ripped to shreds.

There was another ripping noise but it sounded more like cloth. I managed to turn around with shaking hands to see that Minho had ripped his shirt and was now wrapping it over my leg.

When I saw my leg I got light headed. My stomach threatened to give my lunch back to nature. 

There was a hole in my leg as round as a tennis ball and so deep that I thought I saw bone. I had never wanted to see the inside of a human leg, much less my own. The raw flesh and flowing blood reminded me of the time I spent in the Blood House with Winston slaughtering a pig. I hated that my brain had made the connection. I could feel myself shaking all over.

I felt arms grab around my waist and start to pull me up. The movement of my leg made me cry out once more and Minho apologized.

"We have to keep going or you'll die of blood loss. Come on, Kelley. You can do this."

I wanted to yell at him and punch him in the face. He was acting so nonchalant. We took a few steps and I started falling. 

"I can't do this Minho." My chest was heaving with my sobs and I was starting to get a headache from all the pain in my leg. "It hurts."

He looked at me sadly and scooped me up into his arms. I was surprised that he was able to carry me. Then he started running. 

The bouncing of my leg hurt so badly that I could see my vision turning black. I could tell Minho was exhausted. his breaths were loud and rugged. I was barely holding on to him, so it was mostly him carrying me. I might as well have been a dead body.

I felt my heartbeat begin to slow. I wanted to fight the urge to fall asleep, but it seemed harder and harder. It was a new jolt of agony with each step Minho took. I began doubting I would make it. My head started slumping backward.

"Kelley, stay with me," Minho ordered.

"I'm trying..." My voice was so weak that it was an inaudible whisper.

"Don't die on me, Kelley. Please." His voice sounded desperate. He was begging.

I would have made fun of him for it under different circumstances. 

My thoughts became more abstract. I couldn't stay focused. Soon I noticed I was barely having thoughts at all. I couldn't feel my leg. Things started feeling far away. My eyes closed and I could hear Minho talking, maybe even yelling but I couldn't hear what he was saying.

Things started going white. I heard more voices. Very urgent, very loud, but I couldn't tell who they were or what they were saying. I felt more people start swarming around me. I felt myself starting to slip. I wasn't going to make it much longer. I used all the cognitive power I could muster to speak.

"Where's Newt?"

There was more rustling and I felt someone grab my hand. They said something I couldn't understand.

"What...?"

They spoke and I tried so hard to listen, but that was it. I felt my head lull back all the way and there was no possible way of return. My mind floated off to the sound of yelling. 

Everything went whiter than snow.