CHAPTER TWO
( GREENIE )

     "YOU'LL BE SLEEPING IN THE Homestead tonight," Newt says, leading me to a large building. "Normally, only the Keepers sleep there, but you're an exception."

I nod, not wanting to respond as I look around the Glade. Stares are sent my way, and I wriggle in uncomfort. Am I the only girl here?

"Oh, and there are three rules of the Glade," He turns to me, "One- always do your part, in other words, you work. Two- never hurt another Glader, we're all about trust around here. And three- never leave the Glade, only the Runners can go into the Maze."

"The Maze?" I furrow my eyebrows in confusion, "What Maze?"

"Ah, shuck." Newt scratches the back of his neck. "You weren't supposed to hear that. I'll tell ya about it tomorrow."

I shrug off the feeling of uncertainty, and follow him to the Homestead.

We're in a Maze?

I'm the only girl?

Who sent me here?

Why am I here?

Why can't I remember anything?

Questions swarm through my mind, making me feel nasious. I sigh, and look to the floor as Newt opens the Homestead door for me. I guess I'll have to stay here. But for how long?

"I hope ya don't mind, but you'll be sharin' a room with Minho." His accent seeps through his words, to where I almost don't know what he's saying. "We just thought you'd need a bodyguard 'round here. Ya know? To keep all those other slintheads away from ya."

I keep my lips sealed, not even uttering a word of objection. I keep my hands on my elbows as I walk up the stairs behind Newt. He leads me to the last room on the right, then stops in front of the door.

"This is where you'll be stayin'. We already got ya a bed in there, so ya won't have to deal with sleepin' next to Minho."

I nod, and open the door in front of us. The room is plain and dull, with a bed placed at the corner of a wall, opposite from the other bed. It's not what I expected, but it'll do.

I walk over to the bed that I'm guessing is mine, and sit on it. I keep a straight posture, and glance around the room in interest.

"I'll send Chucky boy in here when supper's ready. He's a wee little fat shank, but nice sap when all's said and done."

"Okay." I say lowly, and smile kindly. "Are there doctors around here?"

"Yeah, Med-jacks." He nods. "Why?"

"M-my leg." I frown, and stand up to show him the cut that I got in the box. Then I remember that I still have the knife in my back pocket. I touch the knife in reassurance.

At least I have some kind of protection...

"Bloody hell," He mutters to himself. "I'll send Clint up here for ya, and he'll fix you up."

Once again, I don't respond.

And with that- Newt's gone.

At least now I'll have some privacy.

I lay back on the bed, and stare at the ceiling. I want to remember. I want to understand. I want my questions answered.

Grace? A voice appears in my mind. Can you hear me?

A pain washes through me, almost like a migraine. Except this is ten times worse than any head-ache that I could ever imagine. I rub my temples in pain, and whimper as the pain gets worse when the voice comes back.

Grace?

"What do you want?" I snap, not knowing who I'm talking to. I'm seriously going crazy.

Your memories will come back to you soon enough, I promise.

The voice belongs to a boy, although I don't know what boy. "Who are you?" I ask, the pain dying down a bit.

My name's-

"Grace?" A boy asks, walking into the room. "I'm Clint. Newt told me you'd be here."

I shove away the voice in my head, and pay attention to Clint. But as he bandages my wound, the voice comes back, only to leave once again.

My name's Thomas.

---

After Clint leaves, I sit on my bed in complete silence. It's actually peaceful. I close my eyes, and hum to myself. But I still don't understand why there's a voice in my head.

Maybe I was just dreaming when I heard the voice. Or maybe I was imagining it. There's no way there could be an actual voice in my head, other that my conscience.

I'm still here, Grace.

I groan to myself as Thomas speaks in my head again.

Try to talk to me. Please?

I concentrate on his voice, and think of a reply.

Am I doing it? I ask.

Yes! He exclaims.

How can you talk to me?

We're connected. He answers. We work for W.I.C.K.E.D, and we're their main variables.

What's W.I.C.K.E.D.?

You'll have your memories back before long, and you'll understand everything. He says. I miss you, Grace.

Well, I don't really know who you are... I trail off.

You will soon enough. He sighs. I have to go for now.

Bye, Thomas.

Bye, Grace.

A knock on the door echoes through the room, pulling me from my thoughts. The door opens, and a chubby boy with curly black hair walks in. He looks around the age of twelve or thirteen, with dark brown eyes.

"I'm Chuck," He announces.

"I'm Grace," I reply softly.

"Yeah, I know." He giggles like a little girl. "Everyone's talking about you."

"I hope that's a good thing." I chuckle.

"It is." Chuck confirms. "Now come on, Greenie, it's time for supper."

---

I take a seat at a picnic table by myself, and wait for Chuck to bring my food. I protested, telling him that I was capable of getting my own food, but he ignored me.

I wind my fingers together in boredom, and stare at my hands. I can't get my head around the fact that I can talk telepathically to Thomas. And I'm not sure if I want to find out how we can do it.

It scares me to think that I could already be going crazy. My first day in the Glade, and I'm already hearing voices in my head. Yeah. I'm definitely crazy.

"Thinking pretty hard, aren't ya, Greenie?" Someone asks, sitting down in front of me with a tray of food. I shrug, but don't look up at him. "Are ya mute?"

I shake my head at his question. "I just choose not to talk."

"Well that's how ya make friends here," I look up at him. "We're all family. You don't have ta be shy."

"Okay, then." I smile warmly. "I'm Grace."

"Hello, Grace," He grins. "I'm Garret."

"Suck up the nice act, Garret, and save it for someone who cares." Chuck rolls his eyes, sitting down next to me. I hold in my laughter as Garret's face turns red. "I'm sure Grace finds you extremely annoying, and ugly as a toad. So run along, Prince Charming, you won't be saving any princesses today."

"Get him, Chuck," Minho smirks, taking a seat next to Garret.

"I feel hated." Garret says, looking down at the table. It's then that I take in his features. He has dark brown hair, and brown eyes. What's up with brown eyes around here?

"How's the first day going, Greenie?" Minho asks, stuffing a roll into his mouth. Chuck pushes a plate full of food, with a glass of water, over to me.

"Fine, I guess." I pick up my fork, and play around with my vegetables. "I just want some answers."

"You'll have to wait until tomorrow for answers," He points his finger at me. "Newt will give you the load."

"Why do you guys talk so differently?" I raise an eyebrow. "What's a Greenie? What's a Shank? What's a Slinthead?"

"It's all Glader slang." Garret answers. "You'll get used to it sooner or later. Even start talkin' it yourself."

"Oh." I say flatly, pushing my plate away from me.

"Are ya comin' to the bonfire tonight?" Chuck asks with his mouth full. I bite back the instinct of telling him to close his mouth when he eats, and reply to his question.

"I'm not sure. I'll probably just stay in the Homestead, and get some sleep. I'm exhausted."

"Are ya serious?" Garret asks me in disbelief. "It'll be fun, I promise."

"Nah, I'm good," I reject the offer, and stand up from the table. "I'll catch up with you guys tomorrow."

I give them a wave, then turn and walk away.

I've had a little too much excitement for one day. If you could even call it excitement.

I prefer other terms.

_______