Chapter Text
Newt let out a startled yell, reaching for Ginnie as she fled.
Consumed by Panic, Ginnie wasn't thinking when she ran. Her mind was a stretch of darkness. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes from fear when she couldn't recover a single memory of her life before the Glade, blinding her from her surroundings.
"We've got ourselves a Runner!"
"Not the crops!"
"Quick, somebody catch the Greenie!"
Ginnie's feet kicked up dirt in her wake. She was racing through the Gardens in her distress. Oblivious to the voices, she squeezed her eyes shut while boys ducked out of her way. For awhile, a lot of them either watched her in curiosity, or dodged her out of fear. She went through rows of carrots, straight past the tomatoes, and into the corn.
The leaves that had peeled down from the stems of the cornstalks reached out towards Ginnie as if trying to slow her down, or to stop her altogether. They were hipping her face and skin, tugging against her shirt. Eventually, she began to near the edge of the Gardens.
Suddenly, she broke through. Her panic had left, and now she was operating on a deep-seated, pure rage at whomever did this to her-- to them.
Running to keep her mind straight. Running to escape whatever trouble would meet her if she stopped. Running to save her life- or whatever was left of it.
Running to run.
Running.
A firm grip wrapped itself around her foot, and she went flying face first into something uncomfortably warm and viscous with a loud splat.
Sitting up slowly, Ginnie shook her head, disoriented.
Her feelings threatened to swamp her again as she sat there, humiliated when the sounds of various farm animals reached her ears. She'd managed to run like a lunatic through the Gardens, destroying who-knows-how-many hard grown crops, and then landed in a puddle of mud amongst the animals by the Blood House. For a moment, she just sat there, head in her knees as she considered lsinkinbg back into the mud forever.
That's when a firm hand touced her shoulder, and she jumped a little.
"Easy, Greenie."
The voice was young- younger than hers. It sounded like it belonged to a boy, maybe twelve or thirteen years of age at most, but gentle. Despite the age difference, Ginnie felt oddly comforted by this newcomer's presence. They didn't seem to mean her any--
"Well, Greenie? Are ya gonna do somethin', or just sit in the mud all day like a sissy that just klunked herself?"
Annoying. Very, very annoying.
With a frustrated sigh, Ginnie shook her hands clean. This received her a very disgruntled, "Hey, hey!", to which she smirked. Bringing her fingers to her eyes, she wiped away the mud that was layered there. She blinked a couple times, then looked around.
Just as she had previously thought, Ginnie was in the pasture before the Blood House. Looking to her left, she met the eyes of the boy. He was short and chubby with dark curly hair and pink cheeks. Forcing a small grin onto her face, Ginnie pushed herself to her feet while ignoring the humiliating squelching of the mud between her toes.
She held her hand out to the boy, and said, "Hi. My name's Ginnie."
The boy simply stared back at her, eyes wide, as if she had grown a second head. Ginnie cleared her throat.
Blinking rapidly, the boy shot his hand out to take hers, then halted at the last second. Looking down at her hand, Ginnie realized there was mud all over it, and she blushed in embarrassment. She opened her mouth to apologize, but he suddenly clamped his fingers down around hers and gave them a little squeeze.
"Name's Chuck. Nice to meet ya, Green-- er, um, Ginnie!" Chuck gave her hand a vigorous shake, and Ginnie was certain that he'd only touched her filthy hand because she was a girl.
After a few seconds, he let go, and she put her hands down on her hip, looking out across the Glade. She wondered what damage she'd done during her moment of carelessness, and turned to ask Chuck if he knew.That's when she noticed a couple of familiar figures loping their way.
And neither of them looked anywhere near as cheerful as Chuck.
Alby's cheeks were ruddy and his nostrils flared as he approached Ginnie, while Newt followed closely behind, his expression unreadable.
Ginnie's stomach sank, and she tried scrubbing at the now-dried mud caked to her skin. Her efforts at cleaning up were futile, though, because the mud was so thick it barely began to flake off before a loud voice rang in her ears.
"Greenie!" Alby roared, "What the shuck did you shucking think you were doing, slinthead!?"
Ginnie flinched at the rage in Alby's voice. "I'm sorry, I-I was--"
Alby's fists clenched. "You were what!?" He snarled, "Not thinking, that's what!" He took a step towards her.
Newt still had that mask upon his face, but he now put a firm hand on Alby's shoulder. "Slim it." He warned his friend in a stern tone, although his demeanor was still very calm and gentle in a way.
After a few heavy breaths, Alby nodded, though his piercing glare never left Ginnie's face.
"We must always maintain order in the Glade." Alby eventually huffed. "All of us have a shucking job, and we all work hard. Here, we ain't got time to laze about, and we sure as klunk don't have time to run around all day like sissies." He was pointing a finger at her now, and Chuck stood by her side with a grimace. "Your little stunt there destroyed a lot of crops, Greenie. And I ain't gonna stand by and let it go. You need to learn. So," he stood back, and Ginnie feared what he was going to say, "startin' tomorrow, you're gonna get to work. No special treatment." And with that, Alby walked away before Ginnie could say a word.
She stood there awkwardly, staring shamefully at her feet. Great, first day here and she was already in trouble. She looked to her side at Chuck, who had decided to stay with her for whatever reason. She had a feeling it had to do with her being a girl. With a sigh, she looked up, and blinked, mildly surprised that Newt had stayed.
For a moment their eyes met, then Newt quickly looked away. He'd been staring at Ginnie. Her face flushed hot, and she put a hand on her arm.
"Well, Ginnie," he suddenly sighed, and both hers and Chuck's eyes flicked to him, "Might as well get you cleaned up, you're bloody filthy." Ginnie blushed, but he waved his hand. "It's part of life here. Ya get used to it for awhile." He waved his hand for Ginnie to follow him. "Chuck, back to work." The boy turned, and left to do whatever it was he had been doing. Ginnie gave him a parting smile, then followed as Newt ordered.
Once they were well away from any of the other boys, Newt calling out to so someone occasionally, a thick silence settled between them. Ginnie felt guilty abouthow she'd acted. Instead of staying calm, she let herself lose control and panicked. Now she made a foolish mess of herself.
"I'm sorry." She said softly, daring to glance over at Newt.
She hadn't been expecting a response, so she felt a bit surprised when he looked over his shoulder at her. For a moment, he just looked at her; dirty, guilty, and alone. His face softened a bit, and he slowed to where they walked side-by-side at the same pace. "Don't worry too much about it, alright?" He said, giving her shoulder a gentle pat. "Every Greenie's scared when they first get here." He jabbed a thumb back towards the Gardens. "That way you acted back there was normal." Newt smiled softly at her, and she couldn't help but feel a little better as she smiled back.
After a moment, however, the expression faded. "But Alby--"
"Alby's always been a little rough around the edges." Newt silenced her. For a moment, Ginnie had a feeling there was more meaning behind these words, and she opened her mouth to ask about what Newt meant.
But, before she could, they'd stopped and Ginnie looked over to see Newt was looking at her again. "We're at the showers." He announced, a bit awkwardly.
Ginnie blinked. "O-Oh." She suddenly looked ahead at the building, her cheeks pink beneath the grime. "I don't have any--"
"I'll bring you some clothes later. For now, just focus on getting clean." He nodded to her. "Towels and soap are inside. You turn the knob left for warm water, right for cold. Got it?"
Ginnie nodded her head. Somehow, she could remember how to operate one, but she couldn't remember where at, or why. It was as if her past life was trying to reach out to her, but it wasn't quite working. It was a sad, empty feeling.
"Good that." Newt nodded. "You have thirty minutes. I'll drop off your clothes at the door, and you need to be out on time for dinner. The boys'll be coming by after that, so don't waste time." And with that, he promptly walked away.
Ginnie watched him leave for a few moments, before nervously stepping inside.
There were two doors. One door led to what she assumed was the restroom, and the other led to the showers. Stepping inside, Ginnie's feet met tile flooring. The room had concrete walls, and one side was lined with showers. Only curtains blocked out any wandering eyes, and there were windows above the showerheads. Ginnie shook her head, and turned to the other wall. There, she found towels and soap, and she sighed. Turning back around, she chose the shower farthest from the door, and proceeded to bathe.
.......
Ginnie wrapped herself up a towel, while fastening a second one around her head.
The shower helped her a lot. It hadn't been a life altering experience, but she had been able to clean all traces of mud away, like an eraser. And with that, it also erased her worries, at least for the time being. She had been able to relax a bit, and with that, she'd collected herself and pushed away her fear. If this really was her life now, she decided that we might as well get used to it now.
Besides, if she managed to play along, maybe she'd be able to investigate the place without people knowing.
Stepping from her shower stall, she turned to see a neat pile of clothing at the foot of the doorway to the entrance of the showers. A faint smile touched her lips, and she approached the bundle of cloth. Picking it up, she walked back over to her stall, and proceeded to get dressed.
Once finished, she looked down at herself. She wore a pale grey midsleeved flannel with a couple buttons down the chest open, the collar flat. She assumed Newt had tried his best to find the slimmest pants possible to fit her, but the pair of dark green cargo pants he'd gotten her were long in exchange, and she had to roll them up a couple times to her ankles. She had a pair of black sneakers on, and she'd tucked in her shirt in beneath a matching black belt. To her surprise, he seemed to have decided to give her a second chance with weapons, and she fastened the drop-down sheath on each side of the belt to both thighs, tightening them. Attached to the hip was a dull silver water bottle, and inside each sheath was a set of twin daggers. The clothes were lightly stained with dirt in some places, and the pants were ripped up a bit at the knees, but Ginnie smiled a bit. She could tell, from what she'd seen, they were probably some of the least worn clothes they'd had that fit her, and she appreciated it.
After everything was done, she stepped out of the showers, entering the outdoors again. She's raked her fingers through her hair until it was brushed as thoroughly as possible, and the heat of the Glade had quickly dried her completely. The sun had moved in the sky, and everyone was doing just as Newt said, and began to walk her way.
One had spotted her and, before she knew it, had raised a pointed finger at her while nudging a companion. Soon, several boys were staring in her direction, and the crowd had slowed considerably.
But, instead of letting it overwhelm her, she decided not to let it bother her like before. She gave them a genuine smile, and then began to walk in their direction while keeping down any negative emotions.
If she wanted her new life to work out here, she had to accept it.
Ginnie was one of them now.
She was a Glader.