Chapter Text
He mirrors his 23 year old self, the same man that Praimfaya tore her apart from. Long gone is the beard, the boyish like innocence he once possessed, restored to his face. Clarke feels the strange urge to run a hand down his newly shaven jaw. But, it’s only a moment before her hand meets the resistance of the nylon band wrapped around her wrist.
The Disciple robe is a far cry from his last outfit, even though he looks cleaned up, his face still holds an empty expression.
Clarke imagines that a look of desperation paints her face. “Please tell me that you are only wearing those clothes because your other ones were completely ruined,” Clarke squeaks.
She cannot take her eyes off of him. Mostly because she’s confused, but also it’s the awe factor. His crown of dark brown curls once again rests on his head. A feature which she always adored about him. Another being his eyes. And in their amber glow, always held a certain warmth. A comfortable feeling which she had grown accustomed to. Whether it be because of his protective instincts or something else一 Bellamy was always looking out for her.
That was then.
Now brought a different story. He not only wouldn’t meet her gaze, that stupid Disciple robe was draped from his shoulders. Its pristine condition mocks her tattered black jacket and jeans. And in that moment, in every possible way they were completely and utterly, opposites. They were the perfect representation of good vs. evil, their clothes embodying the dichotomy of light vs. dark.
There was only one reason why Bellamy would be wearing the clothes that mirrored Cadogan’s. Only one reason. A single explanation for why he wasn’t dressed in an extra guards uniform, why he hadn’t been banished to Skyring. She begged her conscious not to jump to conclusions, but it was blatantly obvious. But, that one reason failed to explain why he refused to look at her. “Bellamy,” she whispers.
“Where’s the flame Clarke?” he asks, emotionless.
Her mouth gapes in awe. “Seriously? Seriously ?” She replies, losing it a little. “Tell me the truth Bellamy. Tell me that I’m just imagining all of this,” Clarke gestures at his outfit.
“Clarke—“ he starts. “This would all be so much easier if you told us where the flame was.”
Us. The word doesn’t go over Clarke’s head, catching her undivided attention.
“So there’s an us now? You and Cadogan?” She questions rhetorically. Masking her shock is almost impossible, instead it’s transformed into anger. The rollercoaster ride of up and down emotions was exhausting. But looking at Bellamy rub his palm back and forth on his side anxiously had reached a new low. What the hell did he have to be anxious about?
“There’s still a way out of this Clarke, it doesn’t have to be this hard,” he sighs. “Once the Shepherd enters the code he will take us to our home, the place all of us were destined to one day get to.”
There had been periods of time where Clarke wanted nothing more than to slap Bellamy. Hell she had even done it once before. The urge to repeat the action had never been so strong until now. Also wanting to violently shake his shoulders until he falls out of his dazed state.
“And there you go again using us ,” she stammers. “What happened to you Bellamy? For all I know you’ve been stuck on some other planet for a long time, but here you are spouting Disciple lore like it’s a second fucking language. When did us stop meaning you and I?” her voice, unsteady.
“It doesn’t matter Clarke. My story isn’t important, it can wait. So please just answer my question.”
“You refuse to answer mine, so why would I answer yours? Hmm?” she mocks. “I thought you were dead Bellamy! Everyone believed that you were gone. So don’t you dare tell me that where you’ve been for一God knows how long, doesn’t matter.”
He finally picks his eyes off the floor, they’re filled with something unknown. “I went through something horrible. Completely horrible and hopeless until I一” Bellamy stops. Seemingly hiding some of the details out of sheer embarrassment. That or he just wanted to keep dangling the truth over her head. “Regardless of my experiences… I am glad it happened. I feel secure. All that uncertainty that we’ve coexisted with for years, it’s no longer clouding my judgement. I'm finally free.”
The source of her anger comes from a place of pity, but after Bellamy’s last statement she realizes there’s a bit of jealousy mixed in there as well. He speaks about this so-called ‘enlightenment’ as if it was as simple as breathing. Oh what she’d give to believe him, to be ignorant about the horrors of the past, to somehow have hope in the darkest times. Bellamy still saw the good in people, while Clarke identified the bad in people and engrained it into her memory. But, she’s not a pessimist, just a realist. And no matter how she feels about Bellamy, he hadn't earned retribution. The two of them still had so much to discuss, to apologize for, to confess. Octavia also.
Clarke always imagined herself finding peace right beside the Blake's. Never could she have predicted him fighting for the other side一 not even needing to fight in the strive for peace because he had already found it.
“Are you even listening to yourself Bellamy? To the absolute nonsense you are saying?” She wishes she could be standing in front of him, instead of being looked down upon. He's the one that deserves to be scolded. “These people were born to help Cadogan. They exist to serve Cadogan in his bullshit quest ‘to seek a greater truth’,” she mocks the aforementioned’s voice. “They were created in tubes . Not born to a mother or cherished by a family, they came into this world alone. Can you even imagine life without your sister? Your mother made you a good man, she taught you right. Maybe you secretly despised her for putting you in charge of a baby when you were no more than a child yourself, but we both know you’d be nothing without your family!”
“ That’s true. But Clarke think about it... how much easier if we were just individuals without any deeply personal ties to one another. We would still be the hundred, not the six ” he solemnly replies.
“Bellamy Blake, if you didn’t love your sister as much as you did, you would be dead right now.” She watches his eyes, attempting to detect any emotional recognition. Nothing . “If you hadn’t shot Jaha and followed your sister down here, you would be dead right now. You would have died with the rest of the people on the Ark. Whether that be in a culling, from getting floated, or dying in the Factory Station crash.”
“Maybe that wouldn't have been such a bad thing, I could have died a good person,” he says with conviction. The fact that it’s the only thing he’s said all day that didn’t waver with uncertainty makes Clarke’s heart drop. “Up until I shot Jaha, I was a good person. But the minute that happened I reached the point of no return. We’ve spent all this time going between the idea of being ‘the good or bad guy’ but really Clarke… we’re the selfish ones.”
She remembers his previous statement regarding the 100, before she got distracted by Bellamy’s new perspective on life. “Are you really that disconnected from reality? We’ve been selfish sometimes in the past, I’ll give you that, but we’ve done so much more for others than we’ve done for ourselves.”
He just shrugs in response, Clarke can’t be sure what it’s in response to but she recognizes it as an escape from the conversation. Meaning he’s probably going to ask where the flame is yet again, so she instigates another argument. Maybe it’s counterproductive, but the taunt works.
“So you’re suggesting that protecting ourselves from the Grounders was selfish?” Clarke asks, adding a little head tilt for effect.
He narrows his eyes at her, “Not exactly. My point is that selfishness causes an infinite number of chain reactions.” Now pacing, Bellamy releases a sigh. “If I hadn’t shot Jaha to follow Octavia down then I would never have destroyed Raven’s radio in the escape pod, you guys could have gotten in touch with the Ark earlier and asked for help. No mutiny wouldn’t have happened and Jaha could’ve sent down people to help us fight the grounders.”
“So that’s what this is? You feel guilty?” she scoffs. “Guilt doesn’t explain joining a fucking cult. Led by a sociopath with a savior complex that has somehow forced you to forget who you are.”
Throwing his hands up in the air, he speaks up, “Last time I checked, all my memories are still secure in my head, I'm still the same person,” he replies while draping his hand over his forehead. “Nothing’s changed Clarke. New planet, same problems.”
“God Bellamy, fuck you!” Clarke yells. “Just because you can put on a white robe and pretend that you hate yourself less than you did yesterday doesn’t mean jack shit. Get off of your high horse and come back down to the ground. ” The way he visibly tenses pushes her to continue, “How can you not see that everything is different. Did you forget what you said to me back in Sanctum Bellamy?” she cries.
“I am still trying to do better Clarke! That hasn’t changed!” he yells. “But this time I’m not doing right by your standards, I’m doing it by my own.”
Clarke scoffs, extremely annoyed that Bellamy was seeing her as the perfect opponent. “Finally! Finally, I raise some actual emotion out of you! Anger is good Bellamy. So much better than sad and mopey. So c’mon Bell, yell at me. Explain the root of all this resentment you are projecting on me. Tell me why you hate me.”
“I don’t hate you Clarke,” he whispers. His new found non-confrontational should make this conversation easier. Instead it just disproves Bellamy’s claim that nothing’s changed on Bardo.
“Really? Could’ve fooled me,” Clarke breathes. “Is that why I’m strapped to a chair and you are just standing there? Because you feel so affectionate towards me?
“I’m trying to help all of mankind, that includes everyone. I just can’t be selfish anymore, And I don’t want to be.” Everytime Bellamy speaks he brings a new line of speech that sounds like it was spoon fed to him by Cadogan. It’s fucking exhausting listening to it.
“But, I’m still expendable? For all mankind一 except Clarke, right,” the blonde mutters. Feeling like a breakdown was imminent, she diverts her gaze to her legs. Counting to make sure there were still eleven holes in her pants. She counts the four in the back, feeling the cool leather of the chair touch her skin in those places. One, two, three, four , five, six she counts on the right. Seven, eight, nine, ten . Only ten. Why was there only ten? Clarke counts again. Still ten. She knew for certain that there were eleven holes in these black pants. Every time Madi left the Farmhouse, Clarke would sit on the floor in front of her room door and count the holes, unable to do anything else until Madi returned home safely.
Could she really know for certain? It could’ve easily been ten. Maybe she was thinking about a different pair of pants?
The more she pondered it the more confused she became. Never had the drawn lines of reality become so blurred. It was eleven .
“Clarke?” Bellamy’s voice cuts through the silence, sending chills down her spine. But it’s when he tugs on her hand to focus her attention back to him that sets her off.
“Don’t. Fucking. Touch. Me.” she grits out as she tries to pull her hand away from his. The efforts are futile because his grip only adds further restraint to the mobility of her hand.
“Please Clarke, just listen to me. I need you to hear me out,” he breathes. The grip of his hand does not warm her frigid fingers. It’s not comforting. It feels like he’s holding on for dear life. Like letting go means losing part of her.
But she had already given up so much of herself for him. He couldn’t take everything .
“You’re hurting me Bellamy,” she monotonically states.
Bellamy jumps back immediately, letting her hand fall back to the arm of the chair. Eyes moving back down to her legs, Clarke counts all the places where her pale skin sneaks through her jeans. She hears Bellamy open his mouth, but cuts him off before he can say anything more.
“I don’t want to talk to you anymore. So, just leave.” When he stays unmoved she starts yelling, “Leave Bellamy. Please, please, please. Just leave. I can’t do this with you anymore.” Everything she screams is true, looking at his sad face had become too overwhelming. “I mean it Bellamy, go tell your stupid shepherd that I will never tell him where the flame is, he can proceed however he pleases. Looking at you like this一 is worse than any torture he can put me through.” Clarke only manages to keep it together until the sound of Bellamy’s descending footsteps fade into nothing. Then the dams just collapse, tears stream down her face, each in quick succession.
One of the holes in her black jeans reveals an expansive scar marred onto her skin. It’s the first time since it happened that she actually gets a good look at it. Never could she have ever
imagined doing something so horrible to herself, but she needed the pain.
Why did she just remember the scar now?
Realizing that the scar was never visible before and the intense fraying around the edges of the hole, it hits her that the two rips in the jean combined into something larger. So there was once eleven, but no there’s ten.
But when did eleven become ten? Was it yesterday when she was crawling through caves on Nakara? Had it the fabric snagged on something when she washed it in the lake a few days ago? Or had it been one hole for months? She just can’t quite remember.
─────
“I’m so fucking tired. Of everything. It just hit me that it’s been one month. I’m still in Becca’s lab. My exposure to Praimfaya while my body was accepting the Nightblood made me more sick. Even sicker than I was the last time we saw each other.”
The room is pitch black except for the pulsing of a small red light in the corner of the room. It almost seems safer now that all the ultra bright white is gone. It's probably her mind just blissed out on the ignorance of her surroundings because Clarke doesn't feel scared.
“But thankfully, I’ve completely recovered. My face has almost completely healed, the burns didn’t scar too much. We really should have redistributed some of the stuff here to the people in the Bunker.”
The sound of her own voice bounces off the walls. It’s far away, with the vibrations of each word sinking into her body unwillingly. More of her body is restrained, her head is pinned to the chair and her forefingers are strangely as well.
“I don’t know… maybe if we had more time we could have given Octavia some of this lab equipment to create Nightbloods. Now there’s definitely not enough rations in here to survive for five years, but couldn’t some of us just have stayed in the lab until we somehow figured out to make them Nightbloods?”
Somehow the actual meaning of the words she heard had alluded her, it’s Octavia’s name that catches her attention.
“I’m just wondering if we really had to all go up to the Ark. But it doesn’t matter, no one predicted that I wouldn’t make it back in time, let alone survive Praimfaya...”
After years of radio calling, each message she produced eventually blended together. Though there were certain ones, certain phrases that constantly played in her mind. No matter how many years had passed.
The blonde took solace in knowing that the Ark never received the calls, they were lost to the void of time. The topic never came up again after she saw that ship descend from the sky, it became a distant memory after that fateful day 2,199.
Or so she thought.
Powerlessness seizes control of her body. Her mind mills over the fact that the Disciples had possession of her deepest thoughts, weaknesses, secrets. Cadogan and the rest of his minions didn’t need to put her in m-cap, they already had enough to break her.
And if the Disciples had all of the radio calls in their possession, Bellamy did too.
─────
...Those things aside, 30 days of this shit and I don’t know if I can do it anymore. Grieving people hurts so much. It hurts to know that the life that I had with these people is gone forever.
I need to prepare myself for what the world looks like on the surface. Because our home’s gone now. The Dropship. Arkadia. Right? It’s gone?
Just like all the people we’ve lost, they’re completely gone. Simply ceasing to exist.
Like Lexa, everything that I once associated with her is gone. It used to comfort me, seeing the tower in Polis peak over the tops of the forests. I guess it reminded me that her and I─ we were real. But now, she’s completely intangible, existing only in my memory.
The more I think about it, the worse I feel. One would think I’d have mementos from the people I love and have loved most in this world. But I don’t. Nothing of my mother’s. Nothing of my father’s. Nothing of yours.
But, you don’t have anything of mine either, not that I’d have much to give.
Which can probably be blamed on the fact that nothing ever felt like it was mine on the Ark. Only mine . It was like everything was the Ark’s, and they held that over everyone’s head. I always heards tales and myths about all the simple things people got floated for because they stole. Food. Medicine. Aren’t those things a government should provide for their people? All their people? They are fundamental to life.
Sorry I keep going on these random tangents. Thinking about all the problems on the Ark just makes my blood boil. Like seriously did we really deserve to be forced into a dropship, heading for the radiation laden and unknown status of the ground?
In the case of Finn, he brought it upon himself. Even though he turned himself in to protect Raven, he was still complicit in that spacewalk. And Wells… he didn’t deserve to die the way he did, getting killed for his father’s mistakes. If he hadn't followed me down here he would have come down with my mother and Kane with the rest of Alpha station. He would have lived. Maybe it’s unfair to even blame all this on Jaha, he only picked up where the past chancellors left off. They allowed the first domino in the line to fall down, Jaha just was the one there to deal with the fallout of the final dominos falling.
I guess the final domino hasn’t fallen yet. We are still here.
─────
I held a gun against my head today, so tempted to pull the trigger.
I thought why not? I’ll die before the five years are up, it’s just a matter of how, why not spare me the pain that lies just over the horizon.
But dying at the hands of my own gun seemed quite anticlimactic. Especially for the epic survival story of Clarke Griffin .
Maybe I’ll die peacefully. Preferably in my sleep so I’ll never see it coming. Whatever. The forces of nature can do whatever they see fit. YOU HEAR THAT WORLD! DO YOUR WORST, DO YOUR BEST, I DON’T GIVE TWO FUCKS.
─────
I know these past couple of calls have been as boring as hell. Finally on day 43 I am happy to announce I actually have something interesting to say. I had been walking for days, seeing nothing but scorched Earth. It’s like Praimfaya turned everything into a desert except for this one spot. I found a forest, with living things! Not just dust and rock. I’ve only seen bugs and a couple small animals so far. BUT BELLAMY THERE ARE ACTUAL FRUITS HERE. I really should have paid more attention in Earth Skills... I can’t remember which berries are poisonous. I know the blueberries are alright to eat of course, and I think lingonberries too?
One thing I actually do remember is that the strangely colored berries are called tutsan berries. They themselves are extremely poisonous, but their leaves can be used to cover wounds. Got to thank my mother for that piece of knowledge. They’ve been very helpful because I keep tripping over everything.
I’m so thankful to have the rover to sleep in. I keep having these nightmares about waking up on the ground of the forest and something terrifying is looking down at me, but it ends before I can tell what it is. I guess it’s a sign一If I don’t die from poisonous berries or infection, something’s gonna eat me. Oh shit! Fuck, fuck, fu一.
…
Oh God Bellamy! My fire almost spread to the grass. I got under control though. Can you fucking imagine if I had burned down the last living things on Earth. With my terrible luck it actually wouldn’t surprise me.
Wait what was I talking about earlier? Um...wait… oh yes! BERRIES BELLAMY BERRIES. I’ve never had fresh blueberries before, I guess they weren’t native to the area around Arkadia. They’re so good, so much better than those freeze dried ones on the Ark.
─────
Can you believe that you’d be the first uncle in centuries if Octavia ever had children? I mean it’s still baffling to think that you’re the first siblings in centuries. Maybe someday down the line someone will write you into the history books.
I’ve been thinking about recording my time down here in a notebook. That way, if you aren’t actually getting these calls and I’m just talking to myself like a psycho, you can at least know that I survived. Even if I’m not here to tell you about it.
I’ll leave you some tips to follow. Lingonberries are pretty good. They look like cranberries so they’re pinkish red, though it’s hard to tell when they’re ripe. Unripe ones taste like shit though, I can’t actually describe how terrible they taste. Imagine the worst food on the Ark, but 10 times worse. Okay一 maybe I’m exaggerating. I should really stop complaining, you’re probably eating much worse up there. I can’t imagine there were any rations left on the Ark after all of the stations came down.
Is my cell still intact up there? I’m not sure anyone else up there would want to go back into the prison station, but maybe you could get Echo to go with you? This is not me encouraging you to become friends, but maybe you can teach her some people skills while you’re stuck up there. She really seems to lack them.
Hopefully she hasn’t killed you all yet. I can’t even imagine her and Murphy having a civil conversation. I have a feeling they’d rip each other’s heads off. I’d have no complaints if Murphy won and followed through with that idea.
Then again, the population of the human race is what...1208 people? If she gets out of hand I’m sure she could isolate herself in one of the many corners of the Ark. I guess she’s more useful alive than dead. Nevermind, just take Raven.
I have no idea where my attention span has gone Bellamy, back to this being an uncle thing.
I can’t imagine Octavia being a mother anytime soon if I’m being honest. Even in five years we’ll all still be so young. It feels like it’s been so long since we first stepped off the dropship, but it’s been less than a year. Isn’t that fucking crazy. We’ve been through enough hell in the past year to last a lifetime.
I wonder if Praimfaya was it. You know一 the final ‘battle’ I guess. I doubt it, but what else is left for us to face? If we somehow managed to avoid civil war between the remainder of the twelve clans all those months ago, maybe we can finally be at peace?
Peace is such a loaded term. I’m guessing you and I’s definition of peace is the same, but completely different from the people in the bunker. Peace seems like the path to normalcy, but what if constant chaos is the new normal? Maybe we need to stop thinking of peace as the goal, life may be better. I feel like nothing we accomplish is ever gonna satisfy us because of our failures of the past. I know you’d tell me to stop having such high expectations and that getting through the day alive was good enough.
So here you go Bell, this is me saying ‘I got through today and promise to live another day’. 46 down. Many more to go.
─────
I found Jaspers MP3 player tucked away in one of the compartments of the Rover. It was covered in so much dirt and dust. I had to dig a bunch of mud out of the headphone jack, it was so gross. So as you probably can guess by my previous statement, the headphones themself are nowhere to be seen.
He has so much music on this thing it actually amazes me. Like there are 593 songs, all genres covered. I’ve spent the last couple hours trying to remember where he got it from, but then it hit me, he had taken it from Mount Weather. Wasn’t it Maya’s?
That’s one of the things that sucks about being down here alone. There’s no one to keep me in check, to help me not drown in self-pity and guilt. But I’ve started to think that that’s what I need, to feel all the emotions I’ve had to shove down since our first days on Earth. I need to grieve. For my dad. For Wells. Finn. Lexa. Jasper. And everyone else we’ve lost.
It’s sad一 Jasper has playlists for all of us. All of the delinquents. Not Murphy though… I mean did they even know each other that well? Finn’s is pretty boring to be honest. Harper’s has a lot of slow songs. Miller has a pretty weird mix, surprisingly there’s quite a bit of country mixed into an otherwise rock heavy list. Monty’s and Raven’s are pretty similar; rock, pop, and a bit of electronic music (whatever that means). Octavia’s has rap and like really intense hard rock. I listen to it when I am doing strenuous activity, it really fires me up. Your playlist is probably the best though.
I wish I'd known that the MP3 player had been in here this whole time, we could’ve gotten Raven to put in some kind of speaker in here. Maybe she can do it once you guys come back down. I can imagine you and I screaming Queen songs at the top of our lungs. Maybe ‘We Are the Champions’ since we lived through Praimfaya?
All of the songs in my playlist are so sad. Some of them sound upbeat, but the lyrics are so depressing. It freaked me out for a while. I just kept thinking, is that what Jasper thought of me?
That I am sad?
So, I had to delete it. For my sanity.
It broke my heart to do. I just couldn’t live with the daily reminder of how I failed him.
I’m not trying to...you know, rope you into this by any means, but we didn’t fail him by pulling that lever at Mount Weather, we failed him after the fact. We all just sat back and let Jasper distance himself. I know we had so many things to worry about, but we owed it to him, to help him stay alive.
We should have noticed the last time those glasses were perched on his forehead. We should have noticed the light fading from his eyes.
I feel like I’m about to cry Bellamy. Yet, this is good. This is what I meant by grieving.
It’s day 49 P.P. I thought of that nice acronym for ‘post Praimfaya’ yesterday night while I tried to fall asleep. I thought it was cute, so hopefully you think the same. I hope you are having a better time up there than I am. There has to be a record player or speaker up there somewhere. So listen to some Queen , I know you’d love it.
Talk to you tomorrow Bellamy.
─────
Today was horrible.
I found a village, on the opposite side of my original campsite. It’s beautiful. I know it’ll be a great place to live. Definitely not big enough for 1200+ people, but we can build more homes.
I wish I had good news to share.
I found a boy here. He hasn’t been dead for that long. I know it’s wrong to think, but could I have saved him had I gotten here quicker? He was a nightblood. His body looked very frail and it was covered in blood. He must have fallen and was unable to get up, plagued by hunger. You don’t want to hear this, I’m sure of it, but I need to talk about it.
He’s the only one here, I’ve found no more bodies. (I know Clarke actually burned the bodies but whatever) What if his parents knew he could survive Praimfaya so they left him here to survive while they went into the bunker. Do you think they’re counting down the days just like I am? You think they just unconsciously know that today marks 51 days since Praimfaya?
I buried him near a wild rose bush on the outskirts of the forest. It looked like a nice place to rest. I can’t believe I dug a grave for someone. I’ve lost more people than I can count, but I’ve never had to see them get buried. I think I may have pulled a muscle trying to start the hole. I can separate myself from the memory, but when that sharp pain returns, I just get pulled right back into the memory of his hopeless face. It’s a horrible cycle. And that’s why today was horrible.
I miss all of you.
You most of all.
─────
Remember how I thought I saw something move at the lake the other day? Well I saw it again, well now I can safely say ‘it’ is a person. I still haven’t gotten the clearest view, but judging by their size, I think they’re a kid. I AM NOT ALONE BELLAMY!
So I hope that makes you feel better because I just know you are up there wallowing and brooding.
I can’t seem to ever catch this kid though. Not like REALLY trapping them, I mean like catching this kid in a position where I can actually try to hold a conversation. A child that young shouldn’t be running through the woods all by themselves. This time I was distracted by my berries.
I need human contact Bellamy. I haven’t seen another human being, alive that is, in 57 days. I’m so happy that I am gonna have a friend now!
─────
Bellamy, I do not yet have a friend. This demon-child tricked me into stepping in an animal trap. One of those ones that clamps around your ankle with spikes. Luckily for my ankle’s sake the metal was pretty rusted. Still hurt like a mother fucking bitch though. It weirdly reminded me of you. How you threatened to cut off my hand if I didn’t take off that wristband. They aren’t really similar at all, but I couldn’t help thinking of the memory.
That’s why my calls over the past four days have been so cryptic. I had to stitch my wounds closed with sewing thread. Which took way too long because the string kept fraying, I ended up losing a lot of blood. For the first two days I faded in and out of consciousness all day. I remember hearing the sounds of the on and off buttons on the radio on the first day, but I’m almost certain never actually said anything. So I hope you had the ability to turn the sound down on my obnoxiously loud breathing. Or maybe you enjoyed it. I’d give anything to hear the sound of you breathing.
Wait! Umm…sorry…that...umm came out really weird. I wish I knew how you were doing. To know you are still breathing. Still alive. And well.
I’m not sure if I’m gonna be able to walk normally for a while. But, don’t fear! I have the best walking stick to assist me. Okay…a walking stick isn’t really gonna help, I need crutches but those aren’t feasible now.
I think the kid realized I was a nightblood, because she looked quite surprised to see black blood pouring out of my lower leg. Either that or she thought I was a demon of some kind. Maybe she’ll finish off the job sometime later.
I’ve been drawing a lot lately. There’s tons of stuff left over in the village. I saw the girl admiring the paintings that I had set out to dry in the sun. So I drew a picture of her and left it near the stairs. A sign of friendship, I am praying that it does something.
─────
The girl’s name is Madi. At first I thought she hadn’t learned to speak but I think she was just shy. Luckily she speaks Trig. I just started teaching her English, which isn’t very easy. I literally She says she’s from the Shallow Valley clan. I guess that means I’m in the Shadow Valley, so pass that information on to Raven if that helps you know where to land.
Have you ever heard of the Shallow Valley clan? They weren’t in the Conclave so they must have defected from another clan. Must have been allied with Trikru because we aren’t that far from Arkadia.
She’s has been alone for as long as I have. It breaks my heart, she woke up and all of her people were dead. I promised to give her the life that the Ark never let us have. One where she’s free to do anything and everything. She doesn’t deserve to go through what we went through, up on the Ark and down here. The world owes it to her.
She’s already so excited to meet everyone from the bunker and hasn’t stopped talking about wanting to meet Murphy. I think they would be great friends both a bit too snarky and they’re both fighters. I’ve decided not to tell her about all of the bad things we’ve done. Some of the stuff is unavoidable though. Like she already knows about Octavia winning the Conclave. I told her about the Mountain Men.
Maybe when she’s older I’ll tell her that you and I pulled the lever that killed all of them. I can’t bear the thought of Madi looking at me differently after she discovers all the horrible things I’ve done. But for the first time in months I’ve felt good, or as good as I can be. Things are starting to look up.
I’ve found a tangible reason to live.
Goodnight Bellamy.
─────
HAPPY BIRTHDAY BELLAMY! WOOOO!
Ok I assume it’s not actually your birthday, but Madi and I celebrated hers yesterday.
I told her that the hundred never celebrated birthdays because we never knew what day it was. And on the Ark a birthday just meant you were one year closer to being floated for reaching old age. The story of our lives is just so uplifting!
She insists that we make up for all of our missed birthday celebrations. Apparently the Shallow Valley clan takes birthdays very seriously. A big week-long feast is held at the end of every month in honor of those who celebrated birthdays in that time frame. Everyone in the community attends and contributes some kind of food dish.
The previous owner of the house we are living in always brought something called ‘uciobage cake’, which Madi loves. Luckily all the ingredients are already here so we don’t have to venture too far out. Madi’s already so self sufficient it is unbelievable. I mean Bellamy─ she’s six and she made me cake.
Anyways the cake was so fucking good. It wasn’t really cake though, I don’t know how to describe it but I guess it’s more like sweet bread with jam on it?
Oh yeah we’re also celebrating Murphy’s. We have to do two birthdays at a time because we don’t have enough stuff to make 10 cakes, including Madi and I. So, we’ve settled for five days of birthdays. Make sure to tell Murphy that we’re thinking about him and that we’re so proud that he’s survived this long!
Have a good birthday Bell.