CLARKE:
"No, Clarke!" Wilim yelled.
He threw himself forward but my arm reached out and stopped him. This wasn't about him. It was about the brown eyed boy in front of me and myself. I could sense that he didn't believe that I would actually slit my own throat. He eyed me carefully, challenging me to give up. I wouldn't though.
This boy had given me so much, both happiness and pain, but death had been involved too many times. I was surprised by the thoughts that suddenly seemed to float my mind so easily. The pain would end so fast, and I could stop fighting. Fighting everyone, him and myself included. My fight would be over. The more I thought about it, the more convinced I became.
"Bellamy," Wilim said in what sounded like a plea. Bellamy's eyes shifted from mine to Wilims for a few seconds before they solidly landed back on mine again. Everyone was quiet. The only sound I could hear was my own rapid breathing.
"Go back to camp, Clarke" Bellamy warned. His eyes didn't leave me, and they looked scared almost.
"No! You dont get to tell me that! I went through hell because of you. I lost everything when you died. You dont get to come back like this. You dont get to stand here like this, like nothing had ever happened. " I tried, although I knew he wouldn't. If he wanted to, I'm sure he would have a long time ago.
"Get the fuck back to camp!" He yelled this time. His eyes were wild looking. "Now"
"3," I counted.
"Clarke," his eyes begged me not to do this. Why wouldn't he come with me? Why was he even with them? Why hadn't he tried to just let me know he was okay? Why, why, why? My mind was exploding.
"2," I continued. I raised my voice, in hope of sounding more threatening. He still didn't do do anything. He was going to let me slit my own throat. Who was this man in front of me? Where was the guy who would beat the shit out of someone if they so much as said the wrong thing to me?
I closed my eyes. I wasn't backing down this time. I was tired of fighting and now was the time to stop. I exhaled one last time.
"If you die, I die, right?" I said silently, more to myself than him. I pushed the knife harder and I felt it push into my skin. Everything happened in slow motion. My hand was ready to swipe when Bellamy made a quick, unexpected move when he pulled out his own knife and pushed it into my right hip. A sharp pain followed and I screamed.
"I am doing this for you princess, so the least you can do is cut the suicidal bullshit"
"What are you trying to prove, Clarke?" He stepped forward, making sure that each step was heard. "That you're tough enough to slit your own throat?" He stopped right before my face. The knife in my hand was still pressed hard against my throat. All I needed to do was swipe it to the right.
"If you die, I die, right?" I said silently, more to myself than him. I pushed the knife harder and I felt it push into my skin. Everything happened in slow motion. My hand was ready to swipe when Bellamy made a quick, unexpected move when he pulled out his own knife and pushed it into my right hip. A sharp pain followed and I screamed.
"Shit!!" The pain as the material dug its way into my leg was horrible. The knife in my hand fell to the ground, right before I did. I looked down at my leg. A small knife stuck out of it and a small amount of blood fell from the wound. My hands were shaking as I looked at it. There was blood coming from my neck as well, but the cut wasn't deep enough to kill me. The betrayal of Bellamy Blake might though.
I looked up to find everyone standing with raised weapons.
Then I looked up at the boy who threw the knife. His nostrils flared with every breath, and he looked...shocked almost. A grounder made his way up beside him and said something to him. Bellamy look furious at him as he raised his voice back at him. Why was he talking like that? How come I didn't understand the words that the boy I loved spoke? Who was this guy in front of me?
Then all of a sudden, a horn sounded through the woods. The grounders looked at each other before they walked slowly backwards, retreating. Bellamy yelled something to one of them, before walking forward.
"No, back off!!" Wilim yelled. His gun was raised as he walked towards Bellamy. "Back the F off before I shoot you"
He took a step closer.
"Listen to me," he fiercely whispered to Wilim. "you need to get her back to camp, and make her stay there." I noticed Wilim nodding briefly.
Bellamy bent down to me sitting in the ground.
"I thought you were dead" I whispered softly.
His hand stretched out to the knife in my leg. "How could you let me believe you were dead?"
"You don't understand, Clarke. This way I knew you weren't" his dark eyes met mine intensely. They were different to look at, but still the same eyes that used to greet me in the mornings. His words didn't make any sense though? He got shot and survived but pretended to be dead so I would stay alive?
"What does that me-," he pulled the knife out of my leg forcefully and the pain shoot through me, just like when the knife had entered in the first place. "Don't do that again" he whispered almost inaudible. I pressed my hand over the wound and looked at the boy I barely recognized. He dried the blood remaining on the knife off using his pants. "The river" he continued in a whispered, so only I heard.
"What?" I asked.
"Midnight" he stood and backed away, looking warily at all the ones he left behind thinking he was dead.
Two seconds later he had disappeared like the rest of the grounders.
"What the holy mother of god in this twisted world was that?!" A kid asked.
"Clarke, are you okay?" Wilim sat down next to me. God if only people stopped asking that. No, I'm not okay. No one of us are okay. Things shouldn't be like this. So damn hard and hurtful all the time. Wilim touched my shoulder gently but I shrugged him off.
"Don't touch me" I spit. I was so mad, and I was probably taking it out on the wrong person, but the person I really wanted to yell at had just thrown a knife in my leg and then left.
"What are you trying to prove, Clarke?" He stepped forward, making sure that each step was heard. "That you're tough enough to slit your own throat?" He stopped right before my face. The knife in my hand was still pressed hard against my throat. All I needed to do was swipe it to the right.
Bellamy made a quick, unexpected move and wrapped his hand around the one of mine that held the knife.
"How about I make it easy and just slit it for you?"
"Go ahead" I fiercely spit. We stood so close and our eyes were barely a few inches apart. We stood like this for a few moments, everyone around us apprehensive.
I closed my eyes as a tear rolled down my face and I let go of the knife so he was the only one holding it against my throat. "Go ahead" I whispered this time.
"
