"What the hell are you shanks doing?" A high pitched voice called to Newt and I as we stared at the sun in the sky. I lifted my head up, only to be met with the spiky hair of my new friend, Minho.

I smirked and planted my elbows into the grass, lifting the top part of my body. "Neither of us could sleep so we came out here. What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" He sassed, motioning to the Runners pack around his shoulders. At the mention of going out into the Maze, I shot myself up from the ground and stood to my feet. I could barely hear Newt grunting and slowly lifting himself up.

I harshly turned Minho around, so that his back was now facing my front. He chuckled. "Whatcha doin' Greenie?"

"Looking at what's in here. Why do you have three sandwiches?" I asked him, pulling out the different kinds. One had lettuce in it, the other had ham and cheese, and the last one...I don't know what the hell was in it.

Before he had the chance to answer, Newt came up from behind me, placing his elbow on my shoulder and looking at the plethora of different foods. "Minho here is a rule breaker. The dumb shank makes himself two sandwiches when Fry isn't in the kitchen, then he get's the one he's actually supposed to have."

Minho shrugged as if it was no big deal. "What can I say? I'm a growing boy..."

"When are you supposed to go?" I asked him, motioning to the closed doors. The other Runners were already waiting, talking amongst themselves and stretching in preparation for the long day ahead. I wandered what it was like. Running through the same corridors all day, it must be torturing, and yet, I felt a strange desire to see what really was out there. Not from behind a window, not from hearing it from Newt...I wanted to see it for myself.

"As soon as the doors open." He told me, glancing at Newt for a second. "We got a long way to run everyday."

"Where do you go?" I continued to ask him. I could hear Newt briefly sigh from my left.

Minho furrowed his eyebrows and placed his hands onto his hips, taking a step closer towards me. "Why are you so curious about running, Greenie? Wouldn't want anything ruining that pretty face of yours, would you?"

I rolled my eyes and turned to Newt. "Is he always like this?"

"Yes." He answered simply. Turning back to Minho, I saw the small smirk grow on his face.

"I'm fine." I told him again. "I told you that I have my inhaler thing. It gives me free oxygen whenever I want it. So will you guys stop treating me like a baby and let me do something other than wander around all day? I wanna help."

"Oh, you're not going to be doin' nothing today." Newt spoke up again. I kept my eyes on Minho, who cocked his eyebrow and looked me up and down, almost going through the possibility of me being a Runner in his head. "You're gonna be tested for a job."

"Why? I thought I was already good at being a gardener. Or whatever you call it." I turned back to the blonde boy, who pursed his lips and nodded, scratching the back of his head.

He cleared his throat. "Well, ya are. Would save us a lot of bloody time, and we would probably get the crops faster if you were a Track-Hoe. But you still have to be tested for other jobs. Every Greenie's gotta do it."

"Does that mean I will get tested to be a Runner?" I asked, curiously.

Minho chuckled as Newt rolled his eyes once again. "Hell no. You've gotta get chosen for that. Do you think I would take shucking Greenies out there without knowing if they could run?"

"Well how do you choose them then?"

"Mae." Newt placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, making butterflies swarm in my stomach. I tore my gaze from Minho and looked toward him. "Did you not just hear a word I said? You can't be a Runner. No matter how much you want to. 'S too dangerous."

"But—"

"How about this." Minho interrupted me and a potential argument with Newt. We both turned to him. My face was full of hope, while Newt's patience was thinning with the both of us the more we talked. "I still got some time before the doors open... Wanna race?"

My ears immediately perked up, and my chest began to inflate with adrenaline. The thought of running with Minho around the Glade this morning was just the thing I needed to fully wake me up. That, and I would finally get to prove to the both of them that I had what it took to become a Runner. I didn't really care how dangerous it would be, I just can't stay in this Glade for any longer. Even if I have only been here for two days.

I looked to Newt for approval, even if I was going to do it anyways. He just groaned and stepped aside, waiting for Minho and I to take a running stance. I've never ran before. Or at least, I can't remember if I did before I came here. But for some reason, I could feel as though I've ran miles and miles before. The adrenaline sting in my chest was familiar, and the nerves floating through my body were no strangers.

"One lap around the Glade." Minho muttered to me as we both got in running stance. I nodded to him and took one last big breath before we started, mentally and physically preparing myself for the task I was about to preform. To be completely honest, I didn't know how this was going to turn out. I could either do great, and beat Minho, or I could be sent into another asthma attack.

Either way, I didn't really care. I needed to release the built up frustration in my bones. The madness of not knowing were I was, not knowing who I was, not remembering. Being treated like a piece of fragile china that could break at any second. I needed to prove to not only Newt, but to myself, that I wasn't just a burden or another thing these boys had to worry about. I needed to run.

"Ready?" Minho's voice taunted me as he raised both of his arms into an L position , leaning forward on his dominant leg. I did the same and nodded, staring straight forward along the concrete wall.

"Wait hold on." Newt suddenly spoke. "Did you say a lap around the—"

"Go!"

Without even thinking about it, I pushed off on my right leg as hard as I could, sending my body forward into the air. I plunged each foot into the ground, and I ran as if my life depended on it. We were right by each other, and from the corner of my eye, I could see Minho's brows furrow as he looked at me, pushing himself to go faster.

I did the same thing. I pumped my arms as fast as they could go, and I focused on hearing the thump of my feet on the grass, and my quick breathing. I had to beat Minho, or at least, I had to get close to beating him.

Surprisingly, it was actually therapeutic. Running. It was like I was chasing the good and leaving all of the bad behind me. All of my fears, my sadness, my confusion. With every step I took, it was like I could feel all of the emotions releasing from my body. Minho was no longer running next to me...it was only my mind and the path ahead of me.

As I reached the forest, I didn't bother to look where my opponent was. I could hear the thumping of his feet behind me, but I blocked out anything that could somehow distract me or break my pattern. Two steps, breath. Two steps, breath.

The farther I ran, the less I could see the light of the sun. The trees blocked the rays, and all that I could see was the shadows and the dead leaves that paved the way. My breath started to become heavier, but I didn't back down. When I came across a giant rock blocking my path, instead of running around it, I used it to my advantage.

With a grunt, I leapt on top of the rock and pushed myself into the air, holding my arms out above my head and gripping onto a skinny branch in my line of vision. I swung my legs, giving myself the momentum, as I let go and landed with my left knee on the ground. I pushed on my right leg again, beginning to run at a speed even greater than I had been pacing myself at before.

Suddenly, I heard the taunting footsteps of another person come up on my right. I turned my head towards the noise and noticed how Minho's face was scrunched up, hands in tight fists. I matched his speed once again and pushed myself to go faster, focusing on everything that I was leaving behind, and the things I could accomplish if I won this race.

We rounded the corner and started on the west wall, side by side. It was like both of us reached our maximum sprint speed, but neither of us wanted to back down. From the corner of my eye, the Gladers had all started to wake. Some of them watched us with their mouths open, gawking at the sight of a girl going the same speed as Minho. I clenched my teeth together, pushing my aching body to go faster, whether it wanted to to not.

The air around me became heavy, and I could feel my legs becoming numb with every step I took. My bones rattled, and I breathed in the air that was making my hair flow behind me. I wasn't even on earth anymore. I felt like I was running in a cloud.

Another corner, I thought. Just one more wall. We were parallel to each other, both breathing heavily, running on only adrenaline now. The Gladers had begun to chant for us, some of them yelling my name, some of them yelling Minho's. Either way, I could hardly hear them. All I could hear was how my staggering breaths mixed with Minho's, and how our feet padded against the soft grass of the Glade.

When I finally saw Newt at the same spot we had started our race, I lost it. I pushed myself to go faster, pumping my arms faster than I thought they could go. I noticed how Minho began to disappear behind me, and then as quickly as he had gone, he reappeared, following my strategy. Two steps, breathe. Two steps, breathe. My legs moved faster as soon as I saw Newt waving his hands in the air, shouting for one of us. I couldn't hear, due to the sudden ringing in my ears.

I kept my eyes on him, willing myself not to stop, no matter how much it burned. Just keep going, just keep going, I thought to myself out loud. Get to Newt. Just a little farther. To my right, Minho was grunting and cursing, pushing his legs to go faster although he didn't. When I saw how tired he was becoming, I pressed my body into autopilot and I ran the last few meters the fastest I had ever run before. It was like I wasn't even in my body as I leant forward and pushed on my right leg again, launching myself about a foot in front of the Runner. The closer I got to Newt, the faster I went, and the more I could see Minho disappearing behind me once again.

Then, all of a sudden, I reached the blonde haired boy and stopped in my tracks, doubling over and holding my knees.

"Shit, Greenie." He breathed as he held a hand on my back and rubbed it in circles. "In through your nose, out through your mouth. Do you need your inhaler?"

I shook my head and did as he said, breathing a shaky breath in through my nose and out through my mouth, feeling myself calm down. I stood up and turned around, looking for Minho. He was right behind me, leaning against the concrete wall and taking deep breaths.

"Wh-What are you doing, Newt?" He breathed and pointed at the boy.

Newt furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"Why isn't this shank a Runner yet?" He asked, raising his voice and waving his exhausted hands towards me. I let out a breathy laugh and rested my hands on my knees again. "She was doing all of these flippy things and jumping over rocks... Ho-How did you do that?"

"I didn't do any flips." I corrected him, keeping the smile on my face.

Minho groaned and rolled his eyes. "I'm trying to give you credit. Just slim it and let me compliment you." He turned back to Newt who was holding his hips. "I didn't get in front of her once. Should've seen her in the forest."

"What'd she do?" He asked, his voice stern.

"I thought she was gonna trip over a giant rock." He shook his head exaggeratingly. "But no. This slinthead jumped onto it and swung on a tree and everything! And how are you not dying! I thought you had ath...ath...whatever you call it?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. For a second I thought I was gonna die, but I'm fine. Although my chest does hurt a bit."

I pulled out my inhaler from my back pocket and shook it like Jeff had told me to. I took the white cap off and placed it into my mouth, pushing on the top and holding the artificial air before exhaling.

"Woah!" Minho stood up straight and walked over towards me. "Can I try that?"

"Minho." Newt interrupted him, sticking his hand out and pushing him back. "The doors are about to open."

The boy groaned. "Do I really have to go? I just raced her...and she beat the klunk out of me."

"Go." Newt pushed him with a smirk. Minho whined, but turned himself around to go meet the other guys who were still stretching.

Newt turned around to face me, a weird expression on his face that I couldn't really read. I furrowed my eyebrows at him and tilted my head to the right, silently asking him if he was okay.

"Don't look at me like that." He muttered under his breath, walking past me and towards the Homestead.

"Look at you how?" I asked him, following his steps. From where I was, I could see his jaw clench and his hands be pulled into fists. I slowed my pace. "Are you mad because I beat Minho?"

Suddenly, he turned around and pointed a finger at my face, making me take an immediate step back. But he kept advancing towards me with a crazed look in his eye. "I'm not mad because you beat Minho. I'm not mad at all." He gave me a fake smile and let out a fake laugh. "It just sort of amazes me how you could care so bloody little about your health. If you didn't have that stupid inhaler, you could've been sent into another one of your buggin' attacks, and then the Med-Jacks would have to come and get you, and they would try to help you, but what if you couldn't be saved? Huh? What then?"

"Newt..." I whispered, shocked at his sudden outburst. At the sound of my voice, he looked at the ground and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. It was almost as if he were mentally cursing himself for lashing out. I knew that he didn't like the concept of me putting myself in danger, and yet I still ran. But he didn't have the power to make decisions for me. It didn't matter whether he was second in command or not.

He sighed. "Sorry... I'm sorry I yelled. I just..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "Never mind. I'm gonna go find Alby. Get some food."

And with that, the boy walked away into the Homestead, leaving me with confused thoughts and a conflicted mind.

Eventually, I got breakfast and lunch with Chuck, who I had to remind not to choke on his food. Even though I was hungry, I couldn't bring myself to eat. I kept thinking of the words Newt had said to me. The way his jaw clenched, the way he pointed at me, and the way he apologized so quickly. I had hurt him, it was obvious. The question is why? I get that he didn't want me to hurt myself, but if I was just fine, why did he get so mad? Newt was a caring soul. He cared about people more than he cared about himself, that was also obvious. But why was he so mad about me wanting to become a Runner if that meant that I could possibly help them out of this place?

When I didn't touch my food, I gave it to Chuck again, which made him very happy. Alby had come to collect me for my first job trial, which was sadly at the Blood House. As if this day couldn't get any worse. The morning started out great. I watched the sunrise with Newt, and I kicked Minho's butt in a race. But I couldn't shake the feeling that it did absolutely nothing.

Alby introduced me to the keeper of the Slicers, Winston. He was a short kid with a lot of acne, but what made me shudder was the smell of the place. It smelled like death. Winston had me picking up the poop in the pig pen, and I constantly had to swallow the bile building up in my throat. It was nearing the end of the day, and the walls were bound to close at any moment, meaning that Minho and the rest of the Runners should be back soon. I've seen a couple come back and make their way to the weird concrete building in the distance, but no Minho yet.

"This place is gross." I muttered to myself as a pig snorted at me. I glared at it and threw the poop into a bucket. "Shut up, nobody asked for your opinion."

The thing snorted at me again, and I stood up straight, looking the fat pig in the eye. It was an ugly grey color, with black spots all around it's body. It had a snout that looked like it was being pushed against it's face. The fuzzy hair around it made me want to shave it off, and the snot that rolled down from it's nostrils made me want to puke.

"What do you want?" I asked, the annoyance of picking up klunk all day was starting to take its toll on me. "Huh? Do you have a problem with me? Yeah? Well I have a problem with you too. Why the hell do you shit so much?"

I rolled my eyes and grabbed the shovel again, picking up another pile that was halfway in the mud. I scrunched my face up and held my breath scooping it up and placing it in the tin bucket. I hate pigs, I thought.

Suddenly, as if the stupid thing could hear my thoughts, it snorted and turned around, plopping itself right into the mud underneath me, making it splash up and hit me in the face. I opened my mouth and closed my eyes in shock as the cold goo rolled down my cheeks and my forehead. As if this day couldn't get any worse, I now had disgusting, smelly, pig mud on my face and all over my clothes.

"You little..." I trailed off, as I wiped the dirt out of my eyes, beyond annoyed. I blinked a few times, feeling the anger bubble up inside me. But when the pig looked up at me again and gave me a little innocent snort, I lost it.

"You little shucking piece of shuck faced asshole shucking..." I muttered profanities as I stomped my foot in the mud, trying to step on the squirmy pigs tail. It was squealing and running away from me as I chased it around the pen, ready to hit it upside the head with the shovel.

"Well, well, well," A voice from beside me spoke, I snapped my head up, only to be met with the spiky haired boy once more. "I'd never thought I'd see someone running after a pig covered in mud."

He smirked as I stood up and glared at him. "I will not hesitate to smack you in the head with this shovel." I mumbled, being careful not to get mud in my mouth.

"Well, it might be worth it. This is quite the sight..."

My jaw clenched. "I swear, Minho, if you even think about—"

"Newt! We have a problem!" He cupped his hands around his mouth, making his voice be heard over the Glade. My eyes got wide as soon as he yelled the blonde boy's name. I pulled myself out of the muddy puddle and I scrambled over the short wooden fence. Minho continued to shout Newt's name, but when I jumped onto his back and clamped my dirty hands over his mouth, he screamed.

"Get off, shank!" He mumbled, spitting out the mud that he had accidentally tasted. He tumbled backwards and caught himself on one of the posts, surprised from the sudden weight of my small figure latching onto his body.

"No!" I yelled at him, trying to spread all of the mud on my clothes onto his. "You're being mean!"