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Everything is dark, like all the light had been sucked through a void. Suddenly, a cloud of mist weaves in front of me, obscuring my vision. When the mist clears, I am in a room. Everything is white. This must be a memory, like Thomas said.

I take a deep breath, and look around the room. The room is about the size of an auditorium, there are rows and rows of desks, and they're facing towards a white board. At the front of the room, a round-faced woman, with tight skin, and hair pulled back into a bun. The woman is wearing all white, even her blonde hair has white streaks. The woman is talking, but I can't seem to hear what she is saying. She is pointing to the board, which has seven words written across it in green marker.

WICKED. WICKED is good. The woman must be Ava Paige. But what is the Flare? And what does she mean by Trials?

I look around, to see people watching her from the desks. I see the faces of those in the back row, to notice the people, are children. All girls. The girls range from ages eight, to maybe twelve. As I decide to take a step closer, I stop, a particular child catching my eye. In the third row from the back, to my left, a young girl with fiery red locks sits watching Ava Paige.

After choosing to walk, I realize I can't move, I can only observe. I watch the girl, as she leans over to talk to the child sitting next to her. A pale, brunette girl, who looks to be just a bit taller than she. I hear what the red haired girl says, as if she is whispering it right to me.

"What is she talking about?" The girl whispers. Watching her, that's when I realize why I can hear her. It's me. When I was younger. That's why I can hear her. So that must mean I can't hear Ava Paige, because my younger self wasn't paying attention. I internally laugh to myself.

"I have no idea" the brunette replies.

The girl laughs and turns to smile towards her, and I assume they're friends. That's when I see the red haired girl's face. Pale, peach pink lips, almost green eyes, and she looks happy. She must have been friends with that girl. I must have been friends with that girl. I feel myself smile at the thought of having friends before all this madness.

All of a sudden, Chancellor Ava Paige's voice comes into focus, and the girls turn their attention towards the board. She continues to speak into a microphone she is holding.

"You are the chosen children. You are special, and will save us all. Even though it may seem unfair, you must understand that we are doing this for the greater good." She takes a moment to look around the room, before continuing

"You will not know the nature of the Trials, until you are about to enter the first. But before that can happen, you must all be tested. Throughout the testing, you need to forget your old life and focus on this one" She points to the word 'Trials' and turns back to her audience.

"There are going to be many Trials which you will all face. Throughout the testing, you will all also be given a new name. I know that might seem strange, but we hope you will understand soon enough. We also hope supplying a new name, will aid the transition towards a new life" she sighs. As she turns to walk out the door, she freezes, and glances around the room once more, before saying one last thing before she leaves.

"And there is one thing you all must remember" Ava Paige freezes, to look around the whole auditorium.

She takes a deep breath, and talks into the microphone "WICKED is good."

The memory is ripped away, slightly hurting my head in the process. The motion throws me back into a dark void, where I await the light.

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I feel a searing pain shooting through my temples. I go to massage them, but my hands do not move. No part of me moves, I can't even open my eyes. I hear voices echoing where ever I am.

"Don't worry, she'll wake up soon" a voice assures.

"And what if she doesn't? It's been nearly twenty four hours" Another voice argues.

The voices are all blurry and drowned, so the ones I have heard so far I am unable to connect to a person.

"If you're so worried, give you're sleeping beauty a kiss. Maybe then she'll wake up" someone chuckles.

Minho. My thoughts immediately jump to the assumption that that was Minho. Even though the voice sounded all mumbly, I know it's Minho. No one else would say something like that. But who was he talking to?

"Slim it Minho, this aint the time for one of your shuck jokes" the second voice continues to argue.

Come one Lori! Open your eyes! I shout to my self, trying to open them.

"We'll check on her again later" one of the boys says, and I hear many footsteps as they leave the room. I lay still in the silence, still trying to open my eyes.

All of a sudden, I hear something. A dragging noise. Wood scraping wood. I feel a hand come down on top of mine, and the warmth spreads through me like a fire.

"Come on you bloody shank. You've been here barely a week and you're already with the damn Med-jacks? Come on Lori" The voice says, laced with anger. Newt, it has to be Newt I think to myself. No one else in this shuck place says 'bloody'. I feel myself internally smile. The people here are my friends. I know that now.

After a few more attempts at opening my eyes, I give up, realizing it was not going to happen. Newt seems to realize this too, as I feel him remove his hand, and hear his footsteps walking out the door.

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I feel my vision reappear, the light burning my eyes. I slap my hands over my eyes. That's when I realize, I can move again, yay!

I groggily sigh, sitting up slowly. I look around, to see I am in a room with a few other beds, where other Gladers rest, some bandaged, and another coughing. This must be the hospital.

I pull the blanket off of me, and swing my legs over the side of my bed. As I go to stand up, I tumble a few steps, before falling backwards onto my butt. I groan in pain, and grip the side of the bed, pulling myself up once more.

This time, when I stand up, I stay vertical. I straighten my clothes out, and do my hair into a braid, using a piece of string I found to tie it.

I stumble out the door, and attempt to walk down the stairs of the Homestead. I hold tight to the stair rail, and slowly walk down the steps. I open the door, to have a wall of air rush through the opening, blowing my hair behind me.

"Hey, Lori, what are you doing?" I turn my head, to see Chuck looking at me from a few metres away.

"I don't know, I just needed to get out of there" I respond. He nods, as I ask, "How long was I out?"

"Only the night. It's early, the Runners just left, so you weren't really out that long." I thank him, before walking around the Glade.

The sun is bright, illuminating the Glade in a lovely summer glow. The grass is a fresh green, and the smells of the Glade are so overwhelming. The smells of the animals are undermined by the beautiful scents of the fields, grass, dandelions growing in small patches, and something delicious that Frypan is cooking for breakfast.

I decide to walk over, and see if the breakfast is ready. Once I reach the kitchen, I see Frypan and his small group of cooks at work.

"Hey Frypan" I greet with a small smile.

"Oh, hey Lori! Good to see ya up and well again" He grins widely.

I can't help but smile. They really are my friends, I think to myself. "I was just wandering if I could grab somethin' to eat. I'm starving" I say, placing a hand on my stomach.

Frypan laughs, "Well, breakfast doesn't start for another half hour, but I'm sure I can let this one slide."

I thank him as he hands me a plate which holds bacon, a fried egg and a slice of bread.

I walk until I find my tree from the other day, and sit underneath it. As I start to eat my food, I look towards the Maze doors. They are open wide, with corridors leading into the labyrinth that is the Maze. My mind immediately begins to wonder over the idea of exploring the Maze, uncovering its secrets.

No, I can't. Alby says no one leaves the Glade, unless they're a Runner.

But would he really mind if I were to go out there. Just for one run of the Maze?

I get back to eating, my train of thought falls towards the dream. No. Thomas said it was a memory.

Ava Paige? WICKED? Trials? Why did they make us forget all of that?

I sigh and slowly pick at my breakfast, suddenly not feeling so hungry. In the end, I just drop my plate and walk towards the Med-Jack room, where Clint and Jeff are already tending to patients.

Clint turns, probably hearing my footsteps, "So, Lori, you feeling up to starting work today?" I nod my head, stepping into the room.

"Alright, you can start with re-bandaging up the Gladers in the next room" He says. I say okay, and walk into the next room. I step in to see four Gladers, all but one still asleep.

The boy is sitting turned to the side, so all I can see is the boy's chest-nut brown hair. I grab the gauze off of a table and make my way over to the Glader.

I clear my throat, and the boy turns. I don't recognize him. He has short, cropped brown hair, dark blue eyes and olive skin.

I grab a knife off of the table and walk over to cut the gauze free, carefully removing it so I don't make the injury worse.

"So what's your name, and what happened?" I ask quietly, in hopes that I don't wake the other Gladers.

"Name's Xander, and I cut my self on some brick, no big deal" he shrugs as he lifts his arm to make it easier for me to work with. I look at him closely. His eyes are red, and he looks like he hasn't slept in days. His facial expression portrays confusion and anxiety, eyes flicking around the room, like he's waiting for something to pop out and kill him.

After I remove the gauze, I place the knife down on the bed beside Xander and assess the wound. The cut, which is pretty deep, is about ten centimetres long and slowly oozing blood. As I dab at the wound, I feel his eyes burning into my skull. I look up at him slightly, before turning back to his cut.

"Staring is rude ya know" I mumble.

"Why are you here?" He asks slowly.

"I'm a Med-Jack, so I'm cleaning your wound" I reply, dabbing antiseptic onto the cut. I look up to see his jaw clench as he continues to stare.

"That's not what I meant" he mutters, "You're the first girl. They say you're here to do something. There has to be something different about you. So I ask you once more, why the shuck hell did they send you here? What are you doing for them?"

"For who?" I question, trying to concentrate on winding the gauze around his arm. Just as I'm about to tie it in place, he stands up abruptly, anger painting his features.

"The Creators" he growls, malice dripping from each word. A look of realization sweeps across his face, his eyes growing wide.

"You're here to kill us all. Aren't you?" His voice begins to grow louder.

"That's what they meant when they said not to trust you."

I take a step back, and slowly say "Xander, who are 'they'? Who told you not to trust me?"

He stands and takes a step closer. I look down to see blood falling onto the wood planked floor. Looking for the source of the blood, I notice Xander is gripping the knife I sat on the bed, blood sliding and dripping down the blade.

"Xander?" I say slowly. "What are you doing?"

"I have to do something. They're telling me to do something" He takes another step closer, as I slowly walk backwards, towards the door.

"I have to stop you. They're telling me to stop you" He looks as if he is about to step closer, but stops, as his eyes cloud over. He shakes his head, freeing himself from the trance, and the sides of his mouth curl up slightly.

"I have to kill you. They're telling me to kill you" He cocks his head to the side, and raises the knife.

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