James Dashner

“Where’s Newt?”

“Right here.”

As though she could read his mind, she brought her arms up and wrapped them around his neck, pulling him close until her mouth was right next to his ear, her breath hot and tingling against his sweat.

far cry from the terror he should've experienced.

But happiness had been ripped from their lives. Love had been ripped from their lives.

each word ripped his throat raw.

A storm of emotions wrenched his gut, twisted and pulled;

But laced through it all was the dark feeling of utter hopelessness,

A few trees surrounded it, their roots like gnarled hands digging into the rock floor for food.

the tears that had yet to come burned his eyes.

tiny yellow flowers peeping through as if searching for the sun, long disappeared behind the enormous walls of the Glade