If it wasn’t for the sake of the scorched earth, the sickness known as the flare and some other factors, this wouldn’t have happened. Thomas knew.

If he already started losing his mind after staying three days in the Glade, he did not want to know how it was for someone like Newt, who had been living there about three years and called that green and cozy area in the middle of gigantic maze his home. Thomas had yearned for freedom and due to fact that the organisation that kept them there, called WICKED, had send up the box for one last time with a girl in it, had given them a hint: get out of the safety of the Glade.

They managed to escape but lost some Gladers, like Chuck and Gally. A shame. They had gotten saved…or so they thought. Little did they know that this facility was one of WICKED’s headquarters.

Now, he was sharing a room with the rest of the guys, laying in a comfortable bed. How cozy and warm the embrace of the duvet might have been, insomnia got the better of him. With everything that had happened, he wanted nothing more than sleeping, but his thoughts didn’t leave him alone.

Are they safe? Do they need to be cautious? What if we aren’t safe? Why does that sentence keep repeating in his mind and what did it mean? WICKED is good…

He couldn’t take it anymore and stood up, thinking about where to find comfort and silence his thoughts.