I am awake.

My bones creak and moan as I peel myself off of the hard ground. Skin sticks to harsh metal, almost like it has been pressed against it so hard that every part of me is broken. As if I have been flattened by a steamroller, or a rolling pin. Not only am I force to lift myself with muscles I'm not sure exist, but with bones as sturdy as leaves on a tree in late autumn.

I don't know where I am.

It's cold in here, so much so that I can feel my arms tingling beneath the fabric of my shirt. Hair standing on end, under harsh and scratchy material. My fingers wrap around the ground below me, and I realize it is the bars of a cage. Both sharp and heavy, they surround me. I squeeze them, until I can feel the blood trickling down the palms of my hands, and I back away.

In this room, there is a large whir going about. Tuned out to the sound at the beginning, now it ensnares me and presses me tighter down inside this metal trap. The sound echoes in my heart, thumping over and over, speeding up again and again, until it feels like my heart is moving in rhythm with it. Racing and climbing mountains and heights, until I can no longer think about anything besides the panic. The sound strangles the air in my lungs, leaving my lip twitching and my arms tensing.

The last thing I notice, which now I realize is the most important thing involved in the current situation I am in, is that I am skyrocketing upwards. Leaving behind everything inside me, from my thoughts and feelings, to my intestines as the cage climbs higher and higher in the sky. Maybe this is the sky, but it is an all-encompassing darkness, so Hell is much more accurate.

I was wrong, terrifying is not the right word; this experience is petrifying.

After the situation settles in, I realize I am surrounded by the most infinite of darkness's I have ever seen. Blinking a few times, I realize my eyes are actually open, though there is nothing I can see. It's so dark that I can't even describe this as a blackness, but as an emptiness. There is even, seemingly, a lack of air in this room to accompany the black hole I have managed to get myself sucked into. Though I can feel the cage beneath me, and hear the sound of the machine behind me, it feels as though there is nothing there.

The only way to find out what there is beyond these metal walls is to reach forward and search for something, but my hands are glued to the cold wires that surround me, and as much as I want to let go I can't.

"What is this?" A voice shouts out. It fills the nothing, grabbing me and shaking me awake.

My hands let go of the platform I sit on, and my back is against the wall, and I am panting. Her voice is low and heavy and strong, and she breathes fire that shoots into the cage wall and up into my hands. She is full of rage, and destruction.

I search for words, but my voice has left my body, and probably shot into the air as we started to move up.

"Who's there?" Another girl speaks, and her voice is much softer, but laced with a threat, and she has a funny accent.

The other girl doesn't answer, and I wonder if the first girl is talking to me. Obviously she isn't, she can't see me, unless I am blind and that is why I see darkness. Going blind doesn't seem like something I'd forget, but now it doesn't seem like something I know for sure.

What do I remember?

I attempt to find the voice inside me, but I feel nothing there. Am I mute?

"We've got bigger things to worry about." The first girl, with the fiery tongue and the breath that heats this cool room says. "Where are we?"

"You think I know?" Behind her funny accent is a soft and melodic voice, one that I can imagine painting a picture of a sunset, and teaching people how to dance, even though she seems annoyed.

All I know is that we are moving up. How long we have been making our ascent is lost to me, but so is time as a whole. In this dark room, it feels like there is no linear time in the sense of the word, which would explain why I have more memories. There is a theory that states every instance of time to be occurring simultaneously, but we as people only have the ability to move forward through it.

Here it feels as if the universe is stalling, and my brain is trying to get back all the time it has lost, but none of the pieces are falling into place.

If time doesn't exist in here, maybe space doesn't either. I know the thought is ridiculous, but the dark is so dark it feels as if I am being swallowed by the absence of everything around me.

Then I remember the mechanical whirl, and I feel the tight cage beneath me, and I tell myself to stop panicking. Wherever we are, we are fine. Wherever we are going can't be any worse.

I wait for the angry girl to find a voice and answer, but she never does. There aren't enough voices in here to go around between the three of us, and the one she lets go of finds me.

"To state the obvious, we are going up."

Is that what my voice sounds like? As if it is cracking under the pressure of being squeezed out? I don't think I'm shy, I think I am just being scared. Why am I so scared?

I can hear her eyes roll through the dark. "Yeah, thanks."

The angry one sounds more sarcastic than I do, which is good. I don't think I'm a very sarcastic person either. She however, exudes attitude and anger.

"Sorry," I whistles out my throat, and I feel myself grasping at my neck.

There is a crash, and my hands find the walls, pinning myself in against the corner, my feet struggling to push me as far away from the sound as possible. The walls shake, and the metal behind me scrapes against the concrete walls we are rushing past. I can't help the way my spine shivers to the side at the sound.

It seems in my lapse of memory, I have forgotten how to breathe. Rushing, I try to get any shape or form of air into my lungs, but my throat is closing in on itself, and my chest is heaving, and the world is falling apart and I am panicking.

"Would you quit it?" The smooth voice demands, a threat entering her mouth again. It's not even a threat; it's the threat of a threat. So dangerous it makes me sit still and wait for it to pass.

"I don't see you doing anything to help us escape." The angry voice must be the one shaking the cage.

"That's not going to help us escape." The girl groans, and I hear the metal rattle behind her head, where she slams it against the wall. "That's going to help us get headaches."

"It doesn't matter!" My voice sprouts out, shrill and shaking. "We're trapped in a dark room, hurtling up to who knows where, at who knows what speed, and for who knows how long."

"13 minutes." A voice tells us.

My lungs drop to my knees, and suddenly I'm coughing the panic out of my throat. Thankfully there is no bile inside me, leading me to wonder when the last time I ate.

I don't know who I am.

"I'm sorry?" I can hear the surprise in the light voice, as she begins. "What did you just say?"

"I've been awake for 13 minutes." There is a third voice, which is more air than sound as if it is cracking under the pressure of having to speak for the first time in ages.

"Is this everyone in here?" The fire spits out into the room. "Because if there is anyone else hiding out here I swear I will-"

"Enough." I begin. "There isn't any time to waste talking right now."

"Well what would you rather we do?" The angry voices asks.

"Something useful!" The light voice answers.

"Anything that will keep us from panicking." I shout back. "We can't be panicking."

"You're screeching isn't helping the panicking." She fires back, and for a second all of our voices blur into one and I can't tell who is who.

"What we need is more information." I cut through.

"What we need is to get out."

"No, we need you to stop shaking this whole contraption, before it falls apart in our fingers."

"We need to stop fighting if we have any hopes of getting out of here." I tell them.

"Quiet." The third voice says it with a quiet conviction, a whisper of a thought, and for a second we all listen.

The floor slams still behind us, and the mechanical whirring stops. Above us I can hear pounding feet, and large laughter booming around us. My legs are still and I can't move. Shoving myself into the corner, not trying to wonder what is on the other side of these walls, but trying to forget there is another side.

Suddenly, there is light.

It opens in a stream, flooding down on top of us, and I can't flinch away into the corner anymore.

"Shuck."

The first word I hear is one I don't understand, and I wonder if the people above me speak a different language. Someone's hand is tapping my shoulder, trying to pull me up, but I am still blinded by the light. Blinking, my eyes try to adjust themselves, as I hear murmurs above me.

"You're kidding." An accented voice backs away from the box, I can hear feet scuffing off of one another, as they struggle to move forward. "Four shucking girls? Someone's got to go wake up the shuckin' slinthead. Alby needs to see this klunk."

As my eyes begin to adjust, I look up. There are figures looming over top of, all standing and peering down at me like vultures circling their pray. I blink and shake my head, as I try to get my eyes to see faster. All I can see are their rough outlines, blurry silhouettes.

"He's still shuckin' asleep, was sick as klunk last night, bet he's still buggin'" The accented voice continues. His speech is shaped almost identical to the girl with the high pitched voice rings out, although his is smoother, and his voice is kinder.

In one blink, suddenly I see everything. There are boys, maybe only six or seven peering down at me, and staring with burning eyes. They range from younger to older, but none of them could be pushing 20.

I wonder how old I am.

I let the hand on my shoulder lift me up into the centre of the box, peering around at the girls with me. There's no way to tell who is who, from their silent mouths and quiet expressions, but I can see them perfectly well.

The girl who lifted me up and forward has red hair flowing down to her shoulders in a frizzy tangled mess. It moves of its own accord, and she glares above us with her electric blue eyes, and freckles that dance across her cheeks. She looks like a flame, and I wonder if the name will stick.

The blonde girl is much taller than her, but not any taller than me as I realise how short the ginger is. The blonde has sparkling blue eyes, and a furrowed brow ready to crease to anger at any second. Her skin is smooth and clear, though slightly darker than the other girl beside her.

The third girl has curly black hair, in tightly ringlets around her dark face. She looks much younger than the other two, but is the same height as the ginger. She stares at the boys around us, and her eyes are like dissecting tools.

I don't know what I look like.

"Girls, this is a load of klunk." I stare up to find a boy with a red, round face, glaring down with anger.

Another boy runs up, and I hear the echo of the cage as I slam my body against it, another boy appears above me, and I bump my way into the centre of the cage. The longer we are in here, the more chatter seems to be irrupting.

"Dibs on the blonde." One of them calls out. "What's your name sweetheart?"

"She'll bite your head off if you speak to her one more time." The ginger bites, and I immediately realise she is the angry voice.

"Feisty," another one calls out.

There are more voices. I can't tell if I can't hear them, or if they blur into one another. I can't think right now. I don't know where I am, or what is going on.

Another boy arrives, and as I move back I feel someone's arm catch my wrist. I spin to see the tiny girl, shaking her head at me. I wonder which voice she is.

The boy who arrives has darker skin, and seems to be older than most of the other boys. He moves next to the boy with the accent, staring down at me. The accented one kneels, looking at the three of us with not just curiosity and concern. When our eyes meet, he flinches back and I wonder if he is just as scared as I am.

"If anybody touches these girls, you're gonna spend the night sleepin' with the Grievers. Banished, no questions." The dark boy pauses. "Ain't nobody touching them."

"I take it you're the brains of the operation?" The angry ginger asks, moving forward and pulling herself out of the cage.

The boys back away as she moves around them. Avoiding her as if she is contagious.

The blonde follows her up next, quickly backing up the other girl.

"I take it you're the shank of the operation?" Their leader asks right back, and laughter erupts around the rest of them.

The smallest girl pulls me along as she moves towards the grass. Looking at me to get me to push her up, I stand frozen. There is no way I'm going up there, into a field surrounded by boys with hungry eyes and aching jaws.

Someone offers her a hand, which she takes and she disappears above the edge.

"Where are we?" Another girl asks, and I can't tell if it is the small girl or the blonde, but whoever it is is the light voice with the accent.

"That'll all be answered tomorrow." The darker boy, who must be their leader says. He stops addressing the flame as his voice gets louder. "They'll be in the shuckin' Slammer tonight, since we ain't got anywhere to put them. Newt you'll take care of that. We'll decide what to do with them in a Gathering when the Runners get back. Alright?"

Slammer? What's that? I can't tell where we are supposed to be going, and I don't plan on moving until I get some clarity.

"Why don't we just put them in the Homestead Alby?" The accented boy asks. "It's more welcoming. It's not fair to lock them up just because they are shuckin' girls."

The darker boy, Alby, looks up at the accented boy. He looks like he's about to argue but sighs. "Take them to the Homestead, then. Everyone else clear out, if any of you go near them I swear we will have a banishing tonight instead of a bonfire."

No one moves, still ogling at me in the cage. I'm all alone, trapped at the bottom as it seems.

"Don't just stand there," he booms again. "Move along."

I wait for the boys around us to dissipate, as I stand still. Letting their eyes linger for a few moment, they fade off into the background, until only the boy with the accent is left. Bending down into the cage, he still stares at me.

"Planning on staying in there all day?" He laughs, bright eyes glistening with curiosity. The words tumble out of his mouth with emphasis on syllables I would never think to put next to each other. "Don't be scared, no Glader is going to hurt you. We're good people. Slinthead maybe, but decent."

He reaches a hand down into the cage, waiting for me to take it. A few seconds pass before I let his hand take my wrist, and he helps pull me out.

We are in a large field, filled with green grass. It goes up to my ankles, tickling the bit that is exposed from my rolled up pants. I let a laugh bubble out my throat, as I feel the sun on me, something that it feels like I haven't felt in a while. Looking over, I see the two older girls congregated together, while the younger one seems to be peering around at the light.

"What's your name?" The boy asks me.

"Leo." The word is light and free, and I realise I at least remember something about myself. Leo, that is my name. It is soft and smooth, much like the light that fills this space, and the earth that surrounds me.

"I am Newt." He continues, offering a hand to me to shake it.

As I reach to take it, I watch him fall back. Soaring through the air, he disappears down into the metal box behind us, falling against the hard surface.

Someone is tugging at my hand, and as I spin around, I watch the flame running away from the boy she just shoved down into a hole, and the blonde girl ripping me forward.

"Come on!" She shouts, as she lets go to run. She is the one with the light accented voice.

It takes me a second to start sprinting after her. Where they are going, I don't know, but I am running for my life as fast as I can to get there. Away from the vulture boys, and the metal cage, and the darkness and the fear. We are heading towards the large stone walls that surround the grassy field. At the front is the flame, shoving her way past boys and the blonde slowly trails behind her, dodging the wake of boys the flame has left behind.

The ginger is tackled by the leader, Alby, and the blonde stops to kick him off with one swift motion, before she is approached by the red-faced boy. He moves for the blonde, but she dodges around him, making her way to the wall, and slipping through the cracks.

Getting up and moving, the angry girl tries to get through, only to be tackled again by the red-face boy. More boys are moving towards them, and some are heading for me, so I spin around on my heels

There has to be a way out of here. As I look to the side, I realise there is another door with cracks that keep it open. My feet move off the ground and further away from them all, I move towards the opposite end of the field. As I approach the box, I run around it wide.

Newt is out, and he is shaking his head and flashing concerned eyes at me as I move towards the exit. Limping, he moves for me, trying to stop me, but his injured leg hold him back and there are no boys ahead to stop me.

"Stop!" I hear him scream. "Don't be a bloody shank!"

My muscles are clenching as he gets closer and closer. What's he warning me about? Escaping? Why should I trust him?

Why shouldn't I?

I don't have a good answer, but I like to think trust is earned first. I don't like to believe in the benefit of the doubt.

He chases after me, I hear his heavy feet pounding over the roar of my own heart. He's sped up now, this must be urgent. "Don't' go in the maze!"

I stop at his words. It's a maze?

Spinning around, he hasn't given up his approach but he still lags behind me. Is he trying to warn me, or is just trying to capture me? I can't take the chance, so I keep running for the exit, moving as quickly as I can. I'm only a few steps away from freedom.

My feet are taken out from the side of me, as I slide across the dirt, rolling about in the mud. My skin burns as it tears off the ground, and I struggle to move up and shove the boy above me away. When I spin on my back, I see Newt, struggling to hold me down.

"You really shouldn't have done that." He grunts, it's a warning, but not a malicious one. If anything, he seems more exasperated than upset, and I can't help but feel like I've disappointed him.

I don't think he means us any harm, but I can't help but hold myself back as I feel us moving forward.

"See, this is why we listen to Alby." The red-faced boy moves up to us, essentially cradling the unconscious ginger girl in his arms. "These girls belong in the Slammer."

~~~~~~~~~~

Welp, this is the first chapter. Don't worry, more will be up soon. That's kind of how I role at the beginning.

Welcome to this mess! Now, it's going to be very different from Volaitle, my pride and joy, but I hope you like it. The next chapter should be up very soon, and the name is subject to change. Honestly, I doubt it will last the night.

This might be a little confusing, but it will get better.

I will see you again Saturday.