"My sour boy is a pain
I wanna shoot him in the brain
But I'd miss him in the morning"

ERRRRR

The safe's door screeched open, letting out a whine. I had dreamed of this. Of what on earth could be on the other side. Oprah? Money? Fame? Bad guys? We were greeted with artificial light and industrial pipes woven across a stone wall. Well that was less thrilling than I thought.

Safe but boring.

We trailed out one by one. I pushed Chuck out, guiding him my the shoulder. How many were there of us? I didn't have the strength to count. I didn't have the strength for anything anymore.

It was a tunnel. Cylindrical and stretching down in two directions. Lights came on overhead, giving off a buzzing noise.

"Which way do we go?" Jeff asked, wiping off his forehead. The group looked at Thomas for the answer.

"The one less traveled by." I quipped. People looked at me blankly. "Robert Frost?" Nothing. "Really? Wow." Dragging Chuck along to the right passage way. The others shuffled behind, following us.

We walked. Even though are feet were sore. Even though we were mourning. Even though I was bursting at the seams. Hoping this was all a bad dream. Wishing my mom would wake me up from my bed in middle class suburbia. Telling me that I was late for school. Wishing I had a boyfriend named Gally and he took me out every Friday night. Wishing we could be strange in boringly normal. Wishing I could have him again. Wishing he had chosen me.

-Turn on Twisted Nerve
by Bernard Herrmann-

"Are you a griever whisperer?" A boy named Keith had made his way to the front, deciding to keep Chuck and I company. His hair was curled, soaked in sweat. I'd never really talked to him before. Taking a second look I realized who he was. One of the baggers. Great.

"No." I drawled, hoping he'd get back to one of his other friends.

"Then why'd all the grievers go away when you told them to? Why'd they like you so much?" He had barely talked and he was already getting on my nerves.

"Because I'm sexy, I dunno."

"Finally." Keith chuckled, brushing up on me. "Something we can agree on."

"Ugh." I groaned, looking forward. Keeping my mind on the end. Just a little longer.

"Hey." Victor sneered, pulling the boy back and taking his place. "The position for the guy they reject all the time has already been filled. Move along Shank." Keith mumbled something incoherent and fell back in the group.

"Thanks Dicktor." As insulting as the nickname I'd given him had been, my smile gave away my teasing.

"Yeah? Well thanks for saving my life back there." The grievers had scratched him on his arm, leaving a seeping wound. A strip of cloth had been tied tight around his bicep. Jeff must've patched him up.

"No problem." I said, looking him up and down.

"I'm so grateful you're alive Victor!" He attempted mocking my voice, lilting it up a few octaves. It sounded a lot like him except with a plethora of whiny voice cracks. "I could kiss you!" He switched back to his normal tone. "Well y/n, I'm just saying I wouldn't stop you."

"Is that the best you can do?" I kept poking fun at him, immune to his advances at this point. "Do PitBull and then I'll be impressed."

"Alright then m'lady, I guess I have to find out who this PitBull is."

"I guess you will."

"Can't you just kiss him already to get him to shut up?" Chuck groaned, slumping forward.

"Why don't you kiss him?" I suggested, entirely kidding.

"No way!" Chuck protested. "You know what, I'm gonna go talk to Thomas." Victor and I snickered, bumping into each other.

Freedom felt pretty good to me.

________________________

The end of the hallway. Another door. Maybe this one was freedom. And Oprah? An obnoxious bright green exit sign flooded the area with light.

"Seriously?" Frypan said exasperated, nudging Winston.

"Yeah, like it could be anymore clearer." I scoffed, pressing down on the handle. Leading the others right in. I wasn't exactly expecting what I saw next.

The door led to a corrider, steamed up from broken pipes. Lights dangled from the ceiling, hanging by wires. An alarm blared quietly, like the sound system had been messed with in the building.

It was a lab. It had to be. A tell tale sign was the scientists wrapped in white coats that lay sprawled on the floor. Blood splattered on the wall, one guy had been shot straight in the head.

There was a big window showing off another room. Two bodies were blanketed, strapped down. Only their feet peeked out from the white sheets. Bullet holes littered different windows. Their shells were scattered on the floor.

"What the hell happened here?" Minho uttered, Newt pushed him along. The rest of us went down a few steps of stairs, entering the lab.

Cut wires hung from banisters, sparks sprayed out of them creating a fizzling sound. Computers lined the walls, desks neatly aligned with each one. There was a platform in the middle of the room. Tiny glass crunched under our feet. The platform had dashboards surrounding it, millions of buttons flashing on them. I had been here.

I don't remember when but I had been here. I could feel it. Something in my soul told me so. Tiptoeing my fingers on one of the desks, I trailed over to a computer. An image of Teresa on it peaked my interest. Her face was blank. Serious for someone so young.

Teresa Agnes
A1
• This subject is intellectually advanced. Has a connectedness to both subject A2 and subject A14...

I flipped to the next profile, seeing Thomas's face pop up. Without caring to read the little blurbs I went to the next one. Frypan was listed as A3. Chuck A4. I stopped at Chuck's, seeing how young he looked in his picture. He was fresh as a baby, smiling big.

Charles
A4
• Subject displays a docile role. Likely to be picked off first. In the past has been weak and ridiculed by other subjects. Since A14's arrival the subject has shown increasing promise. Perhaps there is hope for A4.
• Has developed a familial relationship with A14. Subject has a certain closeness with A14. Looks up to this subject.

My teeth gritted at the words I read. How dare they say that about Chuck. Summing him up in a few blurbs when he was so much more than that. Like he wasn't one of my favorite people in the world. They spoke about us like...subjects. Non human.

Newt A5. Alby A6. I swiped through faster and faster. Minho A7. Zart A8. Then I saw it. Gally's profile.

Gally
A9
• This subject appears to have authoritative Alpha tendencies. Lacks natural charisma that other leading subjects possess. Demonstrates a marked hostility towards Subject A2. Aggressive and volatile; rationality often lost to fits of prideful rage. Highly egotistical and unsettled.

• Subject consistently exhibits hostility towards Subject A2, atypical to peers. Holds a possessive nature over Subject A14. Jealous over any interaction A2 and A14. Seems to be infatuated with A14. Will act imprudently for sake of asserting dominance if threatened. Precautionary surveillance recommended.

They had photographed him so he was angry looking. Eyebrows in that trademark arch. Expressionless besides that. My heart. Oh my heart. It...well it was tugged, prodded, ripped, stabbed. You name it. I took my fingers up to the screen and caressed his face.

"Gally you look so pretty here." I whispered, like if he was listening. Like if he could hear me. I wanted to keep him. Preserve him as the image did. Kiss him. Do everything with him. Anything with him. Given the opportunity anything. As long as it was with him.

My hand slipped, skipping forward through the profiles till my face looked back at me. I shot back as if shocked. I was giving the camera the finger, sneering at it as I stuck my tongue out. Exactly what I would've done if given the opportunity.

Y/n
A14

• Subject A14 is described as many things: rebellious, spoiled, mischievous, charismatic, promiscuous, unhinged, and a source of chaos. Guaranteed to disrupt daily life in the other subject's living space. Subject refuses to obey authority and twists the hierarchy. Is able to misbehave and get away with less consequences than other subjects. Has a major feud with Subject A15.

• Able to evade death multiple times. Perfect variable in the experiment. Infatuated with Subject A9. Has developed a familial relationship with A4. Manipulative and is easily able to get what the subject desires. Both selfish and selectively sacrificial over other subjects A14 is close to. Monitoring is mandatory, subject is unpredictable.

"Wow. They really know how to compliment a girl." I said under my breath, disgusted with the profiles. Of how they could write us off like that. How startlingly accurate mine was. All of my positive and negative traits staring back at me.

"Hello." That familiar voice made the hair on my neck stand up. I swerved myself around, on full alert. Only to see a recording of her on a giant screen. "My name is Doctor Ava Paige." So that's that bitch's name. Finally. It was oddly plain. Bland. Boring. "I'm director of operations at the World Catastrophe Kill zone Department." Thomas drew closer to the screen. I followed him. Like moths drawn to flame, we all did. If you're watching this that means that you've successfully completed the maze trials. I wish I could be there in person to congratulate you but circumstances seemed to have prevented it." Behind her in the recording hell began to ensue. Scientists running around frantically as soldiers broke in. "I'm sure by now you all must be very confused, angry, frightened."

"Yeah no shit." It popped out of my mouth involuntarily. I'm a comedic genius even when I'm spacing out. An amazing one too.

"I can only assure you that everything that's happened to you. Everything we've done to you. It was all done for a reason."

"That's bull." I said under my breath. Half to myself, half to the others.

"You won't remember but the sun has scorched our world. Billions of lives lost to fire, famine, suffering on a global scale. The fallout was unimaginable." Videos began to flash on the screen. "What came after was worse. We called it the flare. A deadly virus that attacks the brain. It is violent, unpredictable, incurable. Or so we thought. In time a new generation emerged that could survive the virus. Suddenly, there was a reason to hope for a cure. But finding it would not be easy. The young would have to be tested, even sacrificed inside harsh environments." One of my arms went around, finding Chuck's shoulder and gripped it.

"Sacrificed my ass lady." Jeering at the TV wouldn't change anything. She couldn't hear me but that was besides the point.

"Where their brain activity could be studied. All in an effort to understand what makes them different. What makes you different. You may not realize it but you are very important. Unfortunately your trials have only just begun. As you'll no doubt soon discover, not everyone agrees with our methods. Progress is slow. People are scared. It may be too late for us, for me."

Scientists started to be gunned down by the soldiers. That explained the bullet holes.

"Yeah? Good riddance Biotch." I shouted, flipping the screen off. Newt put a hand on my arm to soothe me.

"But not for you. The outside world awaits. Remember," The Doctor lifted a a pistol up to her head. Oh shit no. Quickly, I covered Chuck's eyes. Turning my own head away as fast as I could. "Wicked is good."

BOOM

When we looked back the screen had gone fuzzy, looking out of order. Thomas started to walk off. The rest of us naturally kept time with him. A body lay in his direction. One with blonde hair, wrapped in white clothing.

It was her.

The sounds of a door opening swished, revealing an opening. Would this be the last door? Please tell me it was the last door.

"Is it over?" Chuck glanced between Thomas and me. I ran my fingers through his hair, resting my chin on his shoulder.

"I sure hope so. Oprah is gonna make a landmine off of our special Chuck. We're gonna be rich as balls."

"You have such a way with words y/n." Newt sighed, resting a hand on my back.

"Ah yes, I'm a true poet."

"Well what are we supposed to do now?" The nurturing boy asked the question we were all thinking.

"I dunno." Thomas pondered as we all did, tears glistening in his eyes. "Let's get out of here." It was over. Finally.

No more running for my life. No more running! Just freedom. Sweet delicious freedom. And Oprah and Doctor Phil and Jimmy Fallon and Jimmy Kimmel and all the Jimmys but not Ellen. Ellen was kind of a douche.

My nightmare was over.

"No!" My blood froze. No. Not possible. Slowly, I turned my neck to see who said it. Praying it wasn't...

"Gally?" Thomas faltered, starting to walk over to him when Teresa pulled him back.

"Don't, he's been stung."

"Where did you come from?!" I had to muffle myself from shouting, putting a palm over my mouth. "Gally, what are you-what?!"

There he stood. All six two of him. His face pursed in a sour look. A mix between seething and helpless and...crazy. A key he held landed in a klunk.

"We can't leave." Gally sniffled, shaking his head. My eyes fell down to his hand. His hand that carried a pistol. A shiny pistol. No. No. Please no. Whimpers caught themselves in my vocal chords, strumming away.

"We did, Gally we're out." Thomas assured, his hands up as if he was talking to a wild animal. "We're free. Come on, you're scaring y/n."

"Y/n?!" Shit. Gally took a step forward. "You think you know anything about y/n?! Just because they let you be around her you think you're so special?!" Sweat began to seep out of my skin, coating every inch of it. "Where is she?!" Enough. I'd had enough. I stepped forward, standing incidentally by Thomas and Chuck. A fire lit in Gally eyes when he saw me. "He thinks we're free y/n, do you hear that?!"

"Please stop yelling." I begged, hoping he'd just melt back into his old self.

"No." Gally crumbled, starting to cry. "There's no freedom anymore y/n. There's only you and me. That's all we have left."

"That's not true! There's a whole world out there Gally!" I raised my voice, not caring to disturb him one bit. "A whole world for you and me."

"No." Gally gasped, lifting his pistol. Aiming the weapon towards Thomas. "There's no escape from this place."

"Gally listen to me." Thomas tried taking charge again. "You're not thinking straight. You're not. Now we can help you, just put down the gun."

"I belong to the maze." Gally lifted his hands to the trigger. Shit. We only had seconds. Just seconds.

"Just put down the gun." Thomas coaxed, I trembled, looking down at Chuck. More worried about him than myself. He had that look in his eye. That no good Chuck look. A horrible idea had deeded into his mind. He always loved to copy me. Always. Monkey see, monkey do.

"We all do." He fired the gun. It was all over in about three seconds. Three seconds. My whole world came crashing down. No more Oprah I guess. The longest three seconds of my life.

Bullets move awfully fast. They really do. It didn't matter though when you were just a step away from one. One step to the right was all it took. Huh, and they called me selfish. Funny.

As I shook with adrenaline I decided that it didn't really hurt. Felt like someone had chucked a pebble at me. I couldn't say the same for Gally. When I looked up at him I saw a spear lodged into him. Through him...

Oh no.

A strangled cry shrieked from me. I wanted to feel his pain. I wanted to wallow and sink and drown in it. I wanted to...I wanted to. He fell to his knees, wheezing. Oh Gally.

The gun dropped from his hand and he fell onto his side. The spear through him made me sick. It was so unnatural. So...I don't know. I don't seem to know anything anymore.

"Y/n!" Chuck yelped, a horrified look struck his face. He pointed at my shirt.

"What? Do I have something on me? A fly?" Teresa took me by the hips and turned me towards her.

"Y/n! Your shirt. You've been..." Her eyes bugged out, hands leaving my side. Everyone crowded around, trying to get a better look.

"Big deal." I grumbled, waving concerned people off. "It'll come out in the wash. I'm...tired." My breath became short, taking jagged supply from my lungs.

"Y/n I'm sorry!" Chuck held tightly onto my arm. "I'm so so sorry!" He cried, tears falling. Some got on to me when he buried his face into my sleeve.

"It's okay Chuckie. I'm just gonna go to sleep for a while." Unsticking him from me, I fell to the ground. Sprawled out on all fours. My vision started to blur. I knew what I had to do. Using every bit of power I possessed, I began to crawl towards him. Wailing echoed in the lab. Probably Chuck's, probably someone else's too. Then I was there. So close I could touch him.

Gally's face looked back at me. Lips so pretty and pink. Eyes clouded over, happy looking. His skin a freckled constellation. Moving around the spear, I enveloped him in a hug. Clutching him so close to me.

"I'm sorry y/n." A teardrop rolled down his face. Gally's voice was a ghost of what it was but it was true. It was purely Gally. Beautiful Gally. Silly Gally. Kind Gally. Playful Gally. "I didn't mean it." He breathed audibly, trying to keep every last pocket of air. "I just said it to make you mad. So you'd leave."

"I really hate you right now." I panted, my fingers grasped at his face. Leaving one last kiss on his lips.

"I love you too." He croaked, the fingers he had brushing up on my face twitched. Electricity pulsed across my skin. I didn't notice anyone else. I wasn't aware anyone else existed. Just him. Just Gally.

"Hey Gally?"

"What?" He asked. I wonder if we could stay together in heaven. Maybe Oprah was in heaven. Maybe. Maybe. My eyes fluttered, fighting to stay open. That bullet was starting to hurt like a bitch.

"I'm yours." I said with a smile,the lids of my eyes closing. And then there was nothing, just darkness welcoming me in, comforting me. I felt safe...warm.

Very very warm.

Juliet-Cavetown
Plays as we pan out
Ladies and gentlemen, this has been: Sour Boy