TELL THEM YOU'RE ENOUGH.

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WICKED DREAMS (book one).
°•        CHAPTER ONE        •°

"        I'M SPEAKING!       "

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"IT WON'T HURT," a voice behind her reassures her in a promise. It's what makes her fall slack against the white leather of the seat she was strapped in. She felt waves of something important, something familiar. Trust. She believed in the person who was behind her, like she was nothing, even though there was something else telling her she shouldn't. Maybe because they were treating her like a test subject. Then again, maybe she was. And she knew it. It was almost like a nagging noise that she dismisses because the trust overpowers that. She submits, muscles loosening, and relaxing against the chair.

The submission must please them. She hears a doctor cross the marble flooring and prepares her for the experiment. She memorizes the quiet taps of their shoes. She's frightened that she might tense again when they pull out the equipment, but the presence of the one she counted on being there calmed her. She swallows the protest and allows who she assumed was a doctor delicately placed two medical pads connected to long wires to either side of her temples.

"It's mostly for her brain activity," the doctor reassures the other. Then, there's the warning, "Though, you want her compliant. We can't risk disloyalty."

She hopes and expects to be defended, but instead, all she hears is a simple, understanding, "I know."

Suddenly, all she wants is to rip the restraints off and leave. She wants to be her damn self again. She doesn't want to be -

Her thoughts are cut off when the doctor taps on a screen a few times and begins the process with the first questions. "Can you tell me your name?"

"Maya." The answer rolls off her tongue like it's obvious.

The scene is a blur for the most part, but she swears she sees a disapproving stare. They start to correct her, only to be cut off. "Subject A3, you need to take a look at - "

"She's trying," the one still planted behind her tries to convince them. "You don't have to do this to her. Give her another chance."

An even harder glare is cast their way. "I understand her heart is in the right place, but you know the rules more than any of us. They apply to all our subjects." It turns colder. "We break their bonds first."

Panic starts to rise as she catches on to what she's saying. But the one she was supposed to trust must agree, must nod, as the second she starts to wiggle free, the promise from before turns to be nothing but a lie.

It hurts like hell.

Her head splits with agony as powerful electrical volts course through her brain to the nape of her neck. It was so excruciating that she attempts to scream in pleads to stop, but all that can escape her lips is a gutted wail of pain. They were trying to break the girl with so much love in her heart by torturing it out of her, to break her bonds, as they said.

She thrashes with as much force as she can, but it's no match for the intense pain she had been plunged into. Still, she refuses to let it tear her heart apart. She refuses to cut the bonds that formed love. Her dampening eyes squeeze shut tighter with every screech that falls into quiet sobs as the suffering starts to subside and, -

Iris awakes with a sharp gasp. She realized she broke into a cold sweat as her hands fly above her in an attempt to see if she was truly strapped down. A pained cry fell free as soon as she made the move from the anguish that starts at her leg and spikes, hot, to the tip of her fingers. She immediately fell still again in fear of the same pain returning. Iris swallows thickly as the prior memories hit her like a truck.

This wasn't the first time she woke up with her head empty, no answers floating in the open space.

Dark eyes flicker around the room as much as they could. Iris takes notes of where she was. It looked to be a shelter, like a hut built from scraps of wood. She worries for a moment that the splintering ceiling would crumble above her. Iris realized she's on a cot, too. It's a hard, uncomfortable mattress that holds an even rougher pillow under one of her knees to keep the leg propped up. After a strain of her neck, her glimpse caught sight of a bandage stained red is wrapped tightly around the limb.

There's a soft squeaking noise from what Iris supposed was a door opening before footsteps slap against the soiled ground. Iris does what she can to lift her head but she can hardly move. It's a strain to even look at them. She can only hear them as they stick their head back outside to shout, "Hey, Alby, the girl's awake!"

Iris almost immediately scowls at that. She was more than just the girl in a place full of boys. Was that all they were going to see her as?

Another set of footsteps follow, and soon two boys are looking over Iris. Only one of them was the familiar leader that Iris first met. He crossed his thick arms over his chest and nods to the boy on his other side. "This here's Clint," he explained. "He was the one who took care of your leg."

The boy crouched so Iris can get a better look at him, but it seems as if he's studying her instead. She already knows she's going to hate the way they look at her - like she's a squirming, experimental mouse under a microscope. Iris knows already she's not too different than them. They shouldn't treat her as such.

"Can I get you anything?" Clint eventually questioned after a beat of silence coming from Iris. "Water, maybe?" Maybe it's a peace offering, but it'll do.

Suddenly, Iris recognized the burning scratch in her throat that rubs her chords raw. She has no idea how long it's been since she's drank anything, or even had something to eat. It's difficult to croak out a word. Iris can only nod, dragging a tongue across her dry lower lip, but it does little to nothing. Iris can only assume it's been a while since she's consumed a drink or food.

"Here," Alby offered as Clint steps away to comply. One of his hands is outstretched in her direction. Iris reaches to grasp it, thin fingers clasping around his wrist. She expects Alby to pull much more forcefully, but he makes an attempt to be careful with her until she's sat upward after a few pained grunts. Iris doesn't dare to shift too much once Alby lets go in fear she'd make her injury worse or topple off the cot.

Clint returned and hands Iris a canteen. The contents inside slosh as she brings the rim to her lips and greedily drinks the inside. Her dry mouth thanks her as the water drips from the corner of her lips, droplets sliding down her skin. She doesn't bother being grateful. Iris is just glad her throat is brought to ease after consuming the water, even if it was on the warmer side instead of ice-cold. She waited until she's only sucking in air to lower the canteen.

Iris takes a few deep breaths, each inhale bringing her chest to rise and fall. She swallowed thickly and gives Clint a nod of appreciation. "Thank you," she said breathlessly. She longed for something more but felt as if she couldn't push the process. Her throat was already starting to feel better, but her energy...

"Come on, you haven't eaten in days," a familiar voice insists.

She lolls over without a response. Her stomach is twisted in a knot so tight that it couldn't possibly be undone. She wasn't hungry, or thirsty for that matter. But at this point, she didn't believe she could even trust her gut.

"You don't want to mess up your system. You can trust me."

Iris blinked, and the memory fades. She forgot it was even there in the first place. She had no idea what just occurred.

She noticed the boys staring at her with a strange look and can only hand the canteen to Clive again. That's where the questions began, and the looks on their faces tell Iris they've done this a million times and expected nothing less.

Now that Iris's throat is clear enough to speak, she asked, "Where am I?"

Clint grimaced. He shares an expression with Alby who nods. It must have been a signal to leave as he gives them the space they need with a calm, "I'll give you another minute."

That brought Alby to nod in appreciation and comment, "Good that."

Once Clint is gone, he waits, but Iris doesn't break the stare with him in the silence between them. She wants answers no matter how little they may be. She wants to know something, anything.

"This is what we call the Homestead," Alby finally began. "It's in the Glade." The words used as terms only brings Iris more confusion, but her jaw can barely drop to speak again before he continued. "Look, can you tell me your name? Is there anything about you that you remember other than that?"

There are more questions that Iris wants to spill with, but Alby stares her down intensely as he waited for an answer.

So she gives him one with a nod. "Iris," she replied. Her heart pangs like the name is foreign to her. "My name-it's Iris." Iris fell into a pause as Alby waited for more, but she sighed, defeated. "There's - there's nothing else, okay? I... Nothing. I can't remember anything," she insisted. Her anxiety started skyrocketing, causing her sweating palms to slick past her hair. Her voice fell into a panicking, shaking whisper. "I don't know what's going on."

"It's normal. Everyone here in the Glade is just like you," Alby explained shortly. He's calm, but it doesn't bring a lesser weight to Iris's shoulders. "We've all been there. Waking up in the box, scared, just like you. We don't remember anything either. It's all empty up here." He tapped his temple for emphasis. "Everything except our names."

"And that's just - what, your normal?" Iris demanded. She furiously shakes her head so swiftly it causes a head rush. "I can't... We can't just live like this - "

"Yes, we can. We have for a long time now," Alby corrected her flatly. He must be tired of doing this, Iris assumes. How long has he been doing this? Alby makes sure he's at Iris's level and meets her gaze before he finishes, "Listen, we have rules here. Okay? So it's time for you to shape up and accept it. We have a lot to do, and this isn't even day one."

Every second with every word only made Iris feel worse. She couldn't possibly be settled. She wants to cry as she did in the box, hand pressed over the open wound on her leg, the pain reminding her she's still alive, but she can't. It'd be useless to do so, hopeless, for that matter. A part of her knows Alby is right. She doesn't have another choice. Iris has little to no memory besides the foggy dreams that happen when she shut her eyes, so as of now, what he called the Glade was all she had. She may as well accept it and move on here.

At least, that's what Iris's heart tells her, but her mind begs her not to.

Alby's voice broke Iris from her trance. "Understand?"

It sucked that all Iris can do is give a nod for now, but it seems to please Alby as he moved from a crouch and back to a standing position. The wood Iris sees is used as a door flings open loosely with another squeak that surprises her and a boy with ruffled blond hair storms in. Iris's gaze falls to the leg he practically dragged behind him in a slight limp that he must try to hide. She can't explain the way the feeling of guilt worms its way into her heart and makes a home at the sight, but she would never comment on it. She tried to let that go too.

"I saw Clint walk off. Everything alright in here?" He asked the pair curiously. Iris detects a hint of an accent in his words that she can't decipher no matter how hard she thought about the origin of it.

"We're fine," Alby answersd. He sounds relieved that he isn't alone with Iris anymore, calmer at the other's presence. "I've been explaining the ropes to her - Iris. Since she can't walk through them all and yet."

He tilted his head like he understands the obvious answer given. "Ah. Never was easy. Can't imagine showing a bleeding girl with a limp the ropes would be easy. Wasn't for me," he deadpanned. He crosses the room like he owned the entire shelter and stopped behind Alby, but still in Iris's view. "Newt," he said naturally so she can place a name to his face.

Iris hesitates for a moment too long. It feels odd to say her name, but she does anyway. "Iris."

Alby takes over then, explaining, "She doesn't know anything, or how she got here."

Newt snorted. "What else is new?"

"I don't know, maybe that our new Greenie is a girl?" Alby stated in response with a stretch of the last word as if Iris wasn't still sitting there, waiting. Her eyes flicker between both boys, uncertain. She assumes there from his posture and assertiveness that Newt maybe had a hand in leading too, and wondered what that meant for her.

Were they going to cast her out of this home just because she's a girl? Did they see her as a threat? She doesn't even know who she is.

It seemed like Iris's worst fears started to come to life when Newt doesn't answer right away, a fist pressed over his mouth like he's deep in thought. Alby shakes his head at the sight.

"We don't know what this means," Alby finally pointed out, but he isn't insisting. He's only wondering. Iris guessed that being in his position meant looking out for his people first. He was a leader, and Iris was the stranger, a Greenie as he says, with a strange twist. She wasn't like the others.

"Maybe we do," Newt finally spoke up after lowering his hand. Alby shot him a look that caused him to roll his eyes. "Come on, Alby. A girl shows up in the box - "

"Injured," Alby cutted him off.

" - And maybe it's not a bloody bad thing! Maybe she's like us," Newt continued firmly. "We're Gladers. We don't turn against one another, no matter who shows up in the box."

Iris had been wordless during the entire exchange, but she quietly questioned, "Can I say something?"

But it's like she said nothing at all as Alby argued in stress, "I know, but - "

Newt barely waves a hand at him dismissively. "But nothing."

Something inside Iris breaks. She's tired of being pushed aside like she's nothing just because she's new because she's a girl. She would have furiously jumped up if it wasn't for the stupid wound on her leg, but she settles to shout, "I'm speaking!"

They stop in surprise and Iris is glad to have finally grasped their attention. They're clearly taken off guard from her outburst if the stunned expressions on their faces said anything. She inhaled deeply to calm the pounding of her heart from the rush, but she doesn't apologize for it. She knows she shouldn't have to. Iris shouldn't have had to snap in the first place to talk and defend herself.

"I know this is weird for you, okay? I'm not a boy. And maybe you're right, maybe I don't belong here! Maybe this was a mistake! But I'm here. I don't know why," Iris confessed desperately. "And I can't lie either... I don't know if I was sent here as an accident, to bring harm, or... Something else. But I... I don't want to hurt anyone," she admitted as her voice drops to a whisper. "I know that. I swear. I know I don't want to hurt anyone."

Because Iris had no memory, but she was positive of one thing that her heart insisted of. Hurting any of them would never be one of her intentions.

But that's what made Iris dangerous. She could be the cause of the fall of the Glade, or something better. She could be its protector, its savior, or the creation of their very own renegade.

And only time would tell who Iris would become.

It must be a lot for Alby and Newt to take in, so Iris let them process her little speech created from her outburst. Then the leader shook his head, and Iris holds her breath, preparing for this to be the end. She braced herself for the declaration that they can't take a risk on someone new, especially a girl, and Iris may not survive whatever laid on the outside. The mere thought of it terrified her.

However, none of that comes. Iris's shoulder slump in defeat and relief somehow at the same time. Alby only gave her one word.

"Okay."

The breath caught in her throat releases into a mix of a sigh and gasp.

"Thank you," Iris said. She's grateful she's given the chance she may not deserve, but without a doubt in her empty mind, she'll prove it.

"Alright," Newt announced with a clap of his hands. "Let's get this thing started. You think you can walk, Iris?"

The pain is suddenly fresh in Iris's limb again like it's been numb the entire time. She gave a slight shift to test the waters before sadly shaking her head. She can barely move. There's no way she can walk. "I can't," Iris stated positively. "I'm sorry, there's no way - "

"Hey, what about those tools the Creators sent up in the box?" Alby suddenly suggested. "Clint and Jeff said they could be useful. Maybe they're for her leg."

Newt nodded and leaves the shelter without a word. Iris sits impatiently because she's eager to move, to prove herself to be useful since her memories were gone as earlier as she can. He came back a minute later with two tools balanced in both hands. They're long, made of shiny metal with cushions stuck on the top.

Newt plants the pointed ends into the ground. "I guess you could use these?" He assumed.

"Maybe," Iris mumbled.

It takes too long for her to alter herself off the bed. It's a struggle to place her good leg to hang over the edge while the other dangles uselessly. But she doesn't see any more blood filling the bandage, so that must be a good sign. Alby watched for a moment before offering a hand as he had before. Iris grasped it as she presses her weight onto her good leg, leaning onto him for balance

There's something in Iris that feels like pure instinct as she let go of Alby so she can take Newt's offering. "I think they're crutches," she said. She has no idea where that came from, and neither did the boys if their expression said anything, but she moved on anyhow.

It's nearly impossible to get comfortable at the new pressure under her arms from the cushions. Iris shuts her eyes as they watch with the fear she's only embarrassing herself to lead to a faceplant, unaware that they were ready to catch her. She clutched the handles tightly and whistled under her breath. "Okay. Here I go."

It's true that Iris does nearly topple over as she swung her first leg in front of her to plant her foot forward in a swift but clumsy motion.

But she caught herself, barely, and after a few tries, she can see it's manageable. She opened her eyes so she can see the surprised looks that bring a faint smile to her face. Pride rushes through her, but Iris is careful not to get cocky. However, she still decided, "Okay, I'm ready. Start with the ropes."

The Glade was waiting, and so was Iris. Her new life was minutes away from beginning.

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author's note:

once again, woo it's here!

i'm not so proud of this chapter, but like, iris being soft while being a badass and standing her ground? i literally love her so much.

a lot of the flashbacks may not really make sense, but there's a lot to get to. it'll all come together in the end, but i'm curious to know what you guys think - i won't admit if any of you are correct, but any predictions? let me know!

i know that it's weird i'm making act one iris's story in the glade from the start first, since this is a teresa story, but i promise there's meaning! you'll see in the flashbacks.

thank you so much for reading! ❤️

- koda

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