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My name is Alethea.

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I wake up with a jolt.

It's dark. I'm shaking. Red lights flash around me, making my heart shudder, the heat instantly leaving my trembling body. Where am I? I feel around in the dark, yearning for any sense of where I am. My fingers grip onto thin bars...a cage?

My breathing quickening as I scramble around for an exit, the cage lurches, and I'm sent flying upwards, gripping the bottom of the see through floor for support. My heart feels like it's flying out of my chest, paranoia consuming me as I regain my senses and fumble around in the boxes for anything I can use to defend myself.

Red and green lights flash around me, blurring my vision into bursts of multicolour. The sensation of sick rises in my gut — flooding my senses in nausea. Glancing up as the cage flies even faster, the ground slips into darkness underneath me, finally making me heave, a warm liquid spewing out of my mouth and falling into the bottomless shaft. I glance upwards. There's a ceiling. I'm going to hit the ceiling.

Where am I? Who am I?

Pulling a knife out of the box, I'm knocked off my feet as the cage slams to a halt, and I land with a painful thud against the bottom of the floor. An alarm rings around me, tearing through my head, and I clutch my knife, my knuckles whitening at my grip on it.

Light.

I shield my eyes as the ceiling slides open, the white glow illuminating the cage I'm in. Is this where you go after you die? I almost laugh at the thought. I'm dead so they chucked me in a cage and sent me sky high. Thoughtful of them... though I'm not exactly sure who they are.

Who put me here?

Shadows appear above me, surrounding me and I fight the urge to gasp from the splitting pain ripping through my head. I can't see faces, they all blend together in a confusing whirlwind of noise and colour. Who are these people? I scan their faces, begging silently for an answer to any one of my questions.

Almost agonisingly slowly, each shadow comes into focus.

They're just boys. They range in all manners of races, heights and weights, though they all share one similar trait. Confusion. Angst. Their heads turn towards a tall boy, easily one of the oldest. Their leader?

I'm only able to form one coherent thought.

My name is Alethea.

Voices erupt around me, and under any other circumstances I'd not bother fighting the urge to scream at them to shut up, however I can barely breath quietly, the vomit left my throat raw.

"It's a girl!"

"No way, thought it was a dinosaur."

"Shut up, shuck face."

"I'll chuck ya' in the Slammer myself!"

"I'd stay in the Slammer with her any day."

"I call her!"

"You most certainly do not you piece of—"

"How old is she?"

"Bro, it smells of barf in there!"

"Enjoy the trip? S'only one way."

A tall, muscular boy with blonde hair and a pale complexion jumps down, landing in front of me. I shoot to my feet, clutching my knife tighter in my hand. I don't miss his strange, warped eyebrows. I'm not sure anyone could.

"Day one, Greenie. Rise and shine," he says with nothing short of a threatening smirk. I panic as he grabs me, pulling me after him. His touch makes me seethe.

"Get off of me!" I shout, shoving him into the cage. He flies backwards and his head smacks the cage before he growls, picking himself up sending me a murderous glare, although I can sense from his hesitation that he wouldn't carry out on the thoughts most likely raging through his mind.

"Slim it, Gally," another voice shouts at him as a a slightly shorter boy jumps down, placing an arm in front of his chest, creating a barrier between me and the boy called Gally.

Their dialect confuses me. Slim it? Who are these people?

"You'll give her a bloody heart attack," he scolds. "Don't want her dropping dead on First Day — might make good entertainment, though. Better than the shows these shanks put on."

I don't have the energy to be offended. All I know is that I like neither the blond boy or Gally.

"Whatever," the boy called Gally grumbles, shooting me yet another glare. I stare at the boy who stopped him, sandy blonde hair that falls in waves over his head, light freckles dotting his face and deep brown eyes seeing through long eyelashes. Deceivingly innocent, while his tongue is like a snake.

"Heya, Greenie," the boy says, stepping closer to me. Instinctively, I hold up my knife towards him, making him chuckle and roll his eyes. The boys above me all hoot and laugh at me. Yeah, I bet they'll be laughing when I shove this knife up their ass. "Put the knife away."

He's mocking me.

"Who are you?" I spit out at him. "Where am I?"

"One question at a time, Greenie," an asian boy with black hair and warm honey skin says, dangling his legs into the cage, a smirk on his face. "Betcha you'll klunk your pants when ya find it all out."

Find what out? Klunk?

"Where the hell am I?" I say.

"She speaks weird. Ew, she sounds like Newt!" another voice comments. Please. I want to scoff. You lot say shuck face and slim it. And what in the world is a Newt? I swear it's like a lizard or something.

"Slim it, you lot!" the boy yells to them. He has the same accent as me, different to the boy with weird eyebrows. I've decided since my brief time here, that they're both a jackass, and I trust my intuition more than any of these strange people. "Don't you all have jobs to do?"

They all grumble in response, their heads disappearing from view. Gally goes with them, making me visibly relax.

"Where am I?" I demand.

"The Glade," the boy answers. His answer spins through my mind... the Glade. The word doesn't feel foreign, almost as if I'd heard it before. He then looks at my knife again and scoffs. "If I was gonna hurt you, shuck face, I would'da done it already."

"Just put the knife down," another boy still lingering around the top of the cage snaps. He's got dark skin and black hair, however through the glare he wears I can see kind eyes behind them. I only tense more. I'd drop dead randomly before I'd ever be relaxed.

"Not until you tell me everything," I say, my voice more steady and determined than I feel. The boy in front of me senses this, and opens his mouth to reply before he's cut off. Good. Just his voice pisses me off.

"S'not how things work. I'm in charge. Not you. We won't tell you anything with a knife to our throats," the other boy says, eyeing me warily.

"What about your chest?" I say, throwing all the innocence into my smile as I can.

The boy in the cage stifles a laugh and steps towards me. Twat. I step back. "Come on, Greenie. Lets get you out."

Greenie?

"I don't think so," I say, not taking my eyes off of him. "Who are you and what in the world is a Glade?"

"That's Alby. Name's Newt," the boy called Newt says. 

"I'd prefer not to talk to a lizard."

"Don't care what ya prefer just come out of the shucking box," Alby says with somewhere between a cough of disapproval and a laugh at my stupidity.

I don't move.

"Come on, Greenie. S'fine," Newt says. "No one here is gonna hurt you."

It's almost comical how he thinks I believe him. "How am I supposed to trust anything you say?"

"Just get out of the box before I give you something to really worry about," Alby growls. I glare at him in return.

"Don't threaten me, Alby."

His eyes narrow. "Don't challenge me, Greenie."

"It's Alethea, not Greenie," I snap. Newt hoists himself out of the box, turning around and offering his hand to me. I wave him off with a scowl. "I don't need your help."

"Fine," he says dryly. "Get up y'self, then."

I grumble obscenities to myself as I lift myself out of the box, standing to my feet and scanning my surroundings. My heart lurches into my throat. Surrounding me is a 200ft stone wall, covered in thick, green ivy. The wall is trapping me in an open field, with small huts one end, gardens on the other and trees and woodland areas dotted around the area. This is the Glade? These people come up with awful names for everything. Newt slaps Alby playfully over the head. "Forgive our klunk-for-brains leader over here, would'ya?"

"Y'say that every time," Alby grumbles. The boys surrounding me, in fact, didn't go back to their work, however, stood around, sniggering, setting me on edge. Alby and Newt study me carefully, gaging what I'm about to do. They probably think I'm going to run.

They'd be bloody correct.

I jolt almost immediately, sprinting towards the wall in front of me, my legs pumping faster and faster as I try to escape. Escape. Escape. Escape. Get out of here. I pick up my speed as the hollers and laughs from the boys ring in my ears.

"Not gonna get far, Greenie!"

"Alethea!" Newt calls harshly.

Alby shouts, his voice a lot closer. "Get back here!"

I don't turn round, I can hear one of them catching up to me. No doubt Alby. There's an opening in the wall, around twenty metres away from me and I barrel towards it, not thinking, not feeling.

Where am I?

Just then, a body collides with mine, knocking me to the floor, a sharp pain running through me as I kick him off of me, only for another to pin me to the floor, pressing my arms into the grass. I look up to see Newt staring down at me and I fight the urge to spit in his face.

"Let me go, you twat," I growl at him.

Newt just shakes his head at me. "Y'gonna to promise you won't go in the maze?"

"Maze?" I repeat.

"Well done slinthead," Alby growls. "Ya gonna make her klunk herself."

"There's a maze?"

"You never go into the maze," Ably says, standing up and dusting himself off. "Got it, Greenie? Never."

"Why, what's in there?"

"Grievers," Newt says, still pinning me to the floor. I try to shove him off of me, but he only holds me down tighter, his brown eyes piercing into mine. "I recommend not going in there and meeting one 'less you want to lose ya head, Greenbean."

"Let me go," I say, the previous strength in my voice whittling away.

"I will if you promise not to run."

"I'm not promising you anything."

Newt rolls his eyes and lets me go, standing up and offering his hand to me. I shake my head and glare at him. I don't even realise how hard I'm shaking. He says impatiently, "Come on, Greenie."

"It's Alethea," I spit at him, standing up and glancing at the wall again.

"Greenie's our nickname for the last ones to come out of the box. A new one comes up every month with supplies. And you," he turns on me. "Never run off like that again. There's no interruptions, ya got it?" Alby growls at me, grabbing my shirt by the collar, but I refuse to flinch.

I tilt my head when I speak to him, "You've got such a weird language."

Newt scoffs. "She's a charmer."

"And you're so flattering."

"You'll pick it up," he says with an amused glint in his eye, disregarding my comment. Why can't I remember who I am? Do I have a family? Friends? What do I even look like? Newt offers me a small smile, though I think it's more due to his amusement rather than to comfort me. "Memories get wiped before ya enter the Glade."

"Why? Who sent us here?"

"We call 'em the creators," Alby says, sniffing disapprovingly.

"Why did they send us here?"

"Hell if we know," Newt says, his eyebrows furrowing. "If you ever meet the bastards, you can ask 'em."

"I'd do a lot more than ask them," I grumble.

Alby takes me on the tour of the Glade, showing me everything and explaining how it works. I'm still shaking, lost in my own world, only barely registering what Alby is saying to me. Alby is a lot less aggressive towards me, giving me at least the slightest bit of security. The smell of fresh grass and the laughs of boys overload my senses on top of my confused and terrified mental state. It's a wonder I haven't fainted yet. Have I ever fainted before? Who was I before? What's my second name? Why can I only remember my first?

The tour continues as I learn more and more about the Glade, becoming more familiar with it as the day goes on. I look down to see that I'm wearing a deep green long sleeved top, it's buttons loose and undone at my neck. Brown cargo trousers swing at my ankles above firm black boots. I begin to relax more around Alby — his witty and unimpressed remarks calm me.

We're in a place called the Hammocks, where most of the boys here sleep, and Alby is securing my hammock to a tree for me, even though I insisted I could do it myself.

"How long have you been here?"

"Two years," he replies hesitantly.

It dawns on me. "We're trapped here."

Alby falls silent, confirming my suspicion. We're trapped here.

—
Thanks for reading! I'm open for constructive criticism so tell me what you think so far! I hope you all have a great day/night (bc ik a lot of ppl INCLUDING ME read wattpads at like 4 am)

~ sophie xx

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