The Rogue Variable

The entire ordeal left me shaken. Condemning a friend to certain death drained the energy from every fragment of my body. The rest of the day was a haze as I stood, still staring at the shut doors. It just now dawned on me that we never finished Thomas's celebration. The haunted figure of Ben seemed to be scarred in the space, and I turned around to see if everyone felt as I did. But they weren't there, and for some reason, it was dark.

A hand rested on my shoulder, "Joanie?" I turned to see Newt, staring down at me. "Come on, you've been standing here for an hour?"

My brow furrowed, an hour? Impossible. I tried to say something but I couldn't, my voice has disappeared. I calmed my hyperventilating, and looked up with wide eyes at Newt. "You okay?" He asked, and I bit my lip, before nodding.

He grabbed my arm and I let him lead me wherever. My gaze was clumsily staring at the floor, and a few times I stumbled, fell once. Newt was always there, picking me up. He must've finally given up, because we stopped moving. I thought he had left, but then I felt the pressure on my feet release. Realization hit me, he was carrying me.

Before I could argue, which was currently disabled, I was placed on a bed. I vaguely remembered the trek up the stairs. We were in Newts room, and I gazed at Newt while he walked over to the sleeping back. I tried to will myself, to say anything, but my vocal chords didn't function.

"Goodnight, Joanie,"

But I couldn't even answer.

Before I could worry, I slipped into dreams.

The dawn blissfully awakened me, causing me to look around where I was. The memories from the past day all came crashing down. Newt wasn't in his sleeping bag, so I just got dressed in his room. A grumbling stomach made me walk out the door, to find frypan. People gave me a wave of acknowledgment, but still my voice had yet to appear. I just waved back.

I steadied myself as the doors opened, their grumbling reminding me of what happened. I stared at the doors, looking for any signs of Ben, but were met with none. Minho stretched his arms out, nonchalant at the object that lay in the open doors. The collar lay, and Minho picked it up, not even giving a second glance, before tossing it to one of the runners.

Before I could protest, a yanked it out of his hand, causing him to jump. I felt the cool leather in between my fingers. I dropped to the floor, gazing at it. "Joanie?" Minho asked unsurely. "What's wrong?"

I tried to form words, to throw them at him. But I couldn't even manage a gasp. He senses my struggling, "what's wrong, why can't you Talk?" He asked. I don't know! I tried to throw at him. He looked at me worriedly, before whispering something to a runner, who darted off.

Alby came after 10 minutes. Someone had snatched the collar away from me, taking it to the shed. I hadn't moved, silently watching everything.

Minho and Alby were whispering, but I could catch a few words.

"Joannah..."
"Banishment..."
"Not right..."
"Mentally ill..."
"Mute..."
"Scarred..."
"Tests..."

The words scared me, so I began to scramble up, digging my fingernails in the dirt as I clambered up. "Hey hey! Calm!" Minho soothed. I breathed in and out, my breaths even. "Listen, Alby and I wanna check out the shuck griever," he paused, "we need to go. I think you should find Newt, have him look over you," he said.

Pulling out a paper and pencil, he scribbled down words on a paper. "Give this to him," he said, pressing it into my hand, "and don't read it," he added. I glanced at the paper, and as if my brain short circuited, I began to unfold it. "No!" He exclaimed, pressing it closed, "please. If you care about any of us. Do not read it, okay?" He said. I nodded.