14 Dawn

This is the fourth sunset I have seen. I slap Frypan over the shoulder as I stare over the Wall. He is laughing and speaking beside me, but I am distracted by the sun, and its beauty.

"At least there was no pig head today." He shakes his head as he laughs.

That much is true, and I let the thought slip out my lips in a tangled giggle. Newt stares at us, the hint of a laugh on his lips, but exasperation in his eyes.

"A pig head?" He asks. "You know, that could be serious Fry."

"They pull pranks all the time." He shrugs, squeezing my shoulder once before looking towards Newt.

The second-in-command doesn't buy it, and I am not surprised he doesn't. Part of me knows I shouldn't buy it either, but that sound is drowned by the adrenaline and thrill of being alive. There is nothing on this planet that can stop me, especially not either of these boys and their worries.

"When did the Runners come back?"

They pause their conversation as Newt looks at me funny. Fry just wears a klunk-eating grin across his face, and I playfully shove him sideways.

"What's your deal with the Runners?" Newt asks.

Fry looks like he is about to speak, but instead he just laughs. I roll my eyes, but back away from the two of them. Only staring, Newt stays stationary, while Fry is too distracted to even know I am gone. These boys will certainly be the death of me, honestly.

I look around, with no signs of the Runners anywhere, I decide I need to find something to do. The short girl is in the garden. She is sitting alone, with a rake in her hand and the sun setting in her curly brown hair. She doesn't turn, or even seem to notice me when I jog up and find her.

"Hey," I begin. I gave up on asking her what her name is a while ago, though I still can't help but wonder. "What's up curls?"

If she doesn't have a name, I have to give her one. So curls will stay for now, until another comes along.

She looks up at me, then down at herself and her own shirt. Her dirty fingers stain the white fabric brown as she examines it in her hands.

"Curls." She smiles as she looks past me. "I like it."

I kneel down, glad that finally something I am doing is working out properly. "Did you eat dinner?"

She shakes her head, as she stabs the dirt with her rake. I've never seen her quite as lucid as this, since she always seems to be staring off into space. This is the first time we have ever been alone together though, so that might be it.

"Yeah," she looks up at me, squinting as the sun fills her eyes. "I did."

She doesn't really talk, but I like her presence all the same. She is silent and reassuring, even if I don't think she sees half the things that go on here. I wonder if she has even heard my name yet.

"I'm Dawn." I tell her, a smile on my lips.

She nods as she thinks. "I guess I'm Curly."

I laugh, shaking my head. For such a quiet girl she is awfully funny. When she goes back to picking at the dirt, I realise that I don't think she is going to come back to our conversation. Wherever she is, is a place that is lost to me. This can't be just from being knocked out to get here like I thought, it's got to be something deeper.

"You managed to get her to talk?" A voice asks from behind me, curious.

I turn and recognise the boy. They call him Zart, and he is keeper of the Gardens. In charge of Curly it seems. I wonder if he knows her name.

"Have you not?"

He shakes his head, so I doubt he really speaks either. He bends down in the Gardens next to her, and I realise they must never sleep. The Gardeners, I mean. I don't know how they can stand something so boring. It is just dirt and plants that don't make a sound. At least the kitchens are full of laughter, and the occasional thrown egg.

Frypan may like a clean kitchen, but he likes to laugh a lot more. I'm glad; it's what keeps me going through the day. It's just him and me, and occasionally Newt or Alby will show up, and a couple builders to actually cook things. The hours of prep are just Fry and I though.

"Call her Curly." I tell Zart. "It's the closest thing we've got to a name."

He smirks, shaking his head as he rips an onion out from the Earth. I'll probably be cutting that up tomorrow with Frypan. It seems as though we are all interconnected in this Glade.

"Curly." He smirks. "Kind of funny."

"Oh, it's definitely funny." I laugh, backing away from him. "I'll talk to you later."

He doesn't even look up from the dirt as I turn around, heading deeper in the Glade. As much as this place is boring, the people in here are so very exciting and fun. There is nothing I can't experience with so many different people here. It is a Maze of surprises and excitement, and a universe of stars.

Though I don't even know where to begin. Unfortunately, a lot of the boys here avoid me like the plague, and I couldn't tell if there is a single person in the immediate vicinity who wouldn't recoil away from me. As far as I can tell, the only thing different about me from everyone else here is that I am a girl.

But that's not going to stop me from doing anything.

"Hey you." I spin on my heels to see Michelle moving towards me. "Come with me."

I furrow my brow, and she simply rolls her eyes, wrapping her fingers tightly around my wrist and gripping on to me as tightly as she can possibly can. Or maybe she is holding loosely and doesn't know her own strength. I mean, there are a hundred thousand possibilities, each of which would explain exactly what she is doing, or at the very least planning, but I wouldn't know.

"I can walk for myself." I bend my wrist towards me, and she lets go. The force sends me smacking down against the ground.

When she turns around, I can feel her eyes staring down at me. They are blue, and as cold as ice. So is her skin; to the touch it freezes me. When she offers me her hand, I move myself away from her, quickly and precisely. My feet roll up on the ground beneath me as I move forward.

I storm off in front of her, but at the same time I am following her. We move further away from the gardens, and towards the Deadheads. I haven't spent more than minutes in here, but I have a feeling Michelle trust these trees with her secrets. In here she can speak them, and the sounds will get trapped between the green leaves.

It is a sound proof room. Although it isn't because any shank could stumble in here and hear everything I have ever had to say. The deeper we move, the darker it gets. There is no sun, only darkness, and it doesn't help that the branches hide us away from the light.

Maybe that's why she likes it here. In the Deadheads, it's too dark to see your left feet, let alone see someone else's. Whatever is about to happen, it isn't good.

"Why did you bring me here?" I spin around, struggling to see the ginger in the dim lighting.

She crosses her arms, staring me down. "You know we are being watched, right?"

Watched? That sounds ridiculous.

"She isn't just being paranoid." That voice belongs to Leo. "Although, she makes it sound much more drastic than it is."

I can't see her, but I can feel her eyes behind me. She steps forward, not so she is in line with Michelle, but so we are in a circle. Here, it is the three of us working together. I didn't imagine we would ban together at any point in my life. A girl who seems to be scared of her own shadow and who likes to listen to what she is told to do, another who gets into fights and has more success in breaking bones than in anything else, and me, the one who craves to touch the sun.

If I think about it, which I don't like to do, I am sure they both would describe themselves much different ways, and I them. Michelle probably thinks herself reasonable and cautious and Leo probably thinks herself kind and intelligent. I imagine they both think he me rash and careless, but then again I can't know for sure.

"It's the leader and his boys." Michelle tells me. "They are keeping tabs on us, making sure we aren't misbehaving."

"Sort of, anyway," Leo corrects. "I think they want to protect us, and make sure we are adjusting to well."

I find myself, with the little knowledge I have, in the middle of these two opinions. Though I am sure they are keeping tabs on us, I am not positive they are doing so with a positive or negative idea in mind.

Instead, they seem to be a mishmash of the two. They are probably observing us like rabbits in cage; an experiment in anyway shape or form.

"So, what?" I ask. "You want me to do something about it?"

"No." Leo interjects, and I can see the words bouncing around inside Michelle. She wants me to disagree, but she takes a backseat to Leo. "That would only cause a ruckus. I'm just telling you so you are careful."

"That doesn't mean we can sit idly and watch this happen." Michelle's tongue is a snake.

There are her two cents. She is right too. If I am being watch and spied upon, for whatever reason, I am not going to take the knowledge and carry it around.

"We have to do something about it." I tell Leo.

She shakes her head. "It's too early to cause a fuss. We've been here four days. Let's at least wait a week or so before we raise hell about it."

"So we should let them continue this for a week?" Michelle demands, crossing her arms.

"If you had forgotten they still aren't sold on letting you live," Leo spits. "It's in our best interest not to complain. At least, not yet."

"She is right." I notice, referring to Leo.

I hate it, and it isn't fair, but that's how it is. If Michelle decides to throw a temper tantrum, Alby made it very clear she is going to get well acquainted with those Grievers. In the short seconds I saw one, I came to the realization that no one wants to get to know a Griever. So it's unfortunate, and messed up, but we can't run about screaming yet.

"We should wait out a week," I suggest.

"Who knows if they will even be spying by then?" Leo asks.

"Who knows what they will find out by then?" Michelle counters.

It's dark in here, but I have gotten the clearest picture of these girls I ever have. Leo thinks calmly and straight, and so does Michelle. The difference between them is their plan of action. The corner of a grimace that is apparent on Leo's face tells me she hears, and on some level agrees, with Michelle. For now, she has to remain calm and do what she thinks is right. Michelle, on the other hand, is ignoring her arguments. However, she is not jumping into action, which is the least Michelle like thing I have ever seen.

For some reason, in the still and silent Deadheads, trapped between the trees, the three of us can work together. And maybe, we will be able to get something done.

~~~~~

Do you ever just love setting things up when you know nothing will come of it? I think that's how life works anyway, since a lot of things we think about each other get negated days later. I like what this has the potential to become. However, for the next little bit I am going to be ruining things. Oops?

Also, I love Dawn's moodboard. It's just so her.

Try to trust more until Tuesday.