Never Let You Go// The 100

Not So Happily Ever After

*Chapter 3*

"Some things are destined to be - it just takes a couple of tries to get there."

- J.R Ward

I wasn't usually a drinker, but desperate times call for desperate measures, right? Not to mention I had quite the collection of moonshine just waiting to be drank. So... why not get drunk?

I snatched one of the flasks from my closet and quickly returned to my spot on the living room floor where the mystery box still sat, waiting to be looked through. Although, I had a feeling that by the time I got to the bottom I would be emotionally scarred. I had already cried buckets from looking at the first layer of memories.

Along with the pictures, was a half written police report in familiar messy writing, a worn out napkin with a phone number on it, and a marriage certificate dated July 19, 1921. And by then I had no doubt that I was going crazy because on the certificate were the signatures of Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin.

The last paper in the stack was a newspaper clipping that was stiff and musty. The words were smudged but I could still make out what it said. I wished I couldn't.

On the night of August 6, 1921 another local speakeasy was shut down. Hidden behind Reyes Shoe Store, the speakeasy was filled with people, despite the late hour. Due to the chaos, many people escaped without consequence, but the owner of the speakeasy and several of his employees were caught and arrested. One employee in particular, a dancer by the name of Clarke Griffin-Blake, was shot and killed during the riot, along with two civilians and one of New York's most famous private investigators, Bellamy Blake. According to witnesses, Blake and Griffin were married only a month ago and were said to be deeply in love. When Griffin was shot, Blake ran towards her and was shot as well by the same officer. No charges are being held at this time. This scene proves the dangers of speakeasies and authorities hope that civilians will be able to see that there is more pain in drinking illegally than fun.

The tears came again without warning. How could something so horrible happen? They were in love! They were supposed to spend the rest of their lives together! What happened that made everything go so downhill?

Next to the article was two pictures. One, of a man with handcuffs on being led to a police car. The caption underneath read: Bartender and owner of the speakeasy. The picture underneath it was of Bellamy and I. It seemed to have been taken before the police raided, probably by a friend like the rest of the pictures in the box. We were slow dancing, as a man sang on stage. The club was seemingly empty, with only a few employees cleaning up in the background. We had no idea the picture was being taken.

Bellamy and Clarke Blake in the speakeasy the night before arrest.

I didn't get it. They had the same names as us and looked exactly the same as us, yet it wasn't possible. How could someone live in two different time periods? It didn't make sense. Yet there I was, with a box full of evidence and no memories to prove it.

I wanted Bellamy to be here with me. Somehow I knew he would understand this better than me. But Bellamy wasn't here and never would be. I was on my own for this.

So, I set aside the first stack and looked back into the box. The first thing I saw was a crumpled paper airplane. On the inside was a messy crayon drawing of two stick figures holding hands. One was a girl with blonde hair and the other a boy with curly brown hair. Beneath the drawing it said: Always

I looked back into the box for another airplane, but there was no reply. What did it mean? And what was going to happen to us next?

A/N: Hello Readers! Sorry for such a short chapter. I promise the next one will be better length! Please tell me what you think and if you have any suggestions to make my story better. Thanks for reading, you rock!

- M