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ᴀᴄʀ ᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴄᴏᴠᴇʀʏ
ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜰɪᴠᴇ
ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴜᴛᴜʀᴇ
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"THIS DAMN THING IS HEAVY!"
morgan's muscles quivered under the strain as she hoisted the heavy log, her hands gripping the rough wood tightly. Splinters pricked her skin, prompting a sharp hiss of pain, but she didn't drop it. She steadied her breathing-inhaling deeply, then exhaling with force-finding a rhythm in it She had managed to lift the log to the height of her hips;
"Come on, Morgan! You can do it!" Marco's voice pierced through her focus, his tone brimming. He stood ready, a cup of water in hand for when she was done.
A year had passed since the fall, and life, with its relentless pace, had continued moving. The screams that once terrorized her sleep had diminished to mere whispers in her dreams. The vivid flashbacks that once tethered her to the safety of her home had softened into distant memories, now just fleeting shadows that barely stirred her emotions.
The scar on her neck had healed and faded. It was still visible, a permanent mark, but its angry redness had subsided, and the persistent itch had vanished. Sometimes, she found herself missing that itch, she had started questioning whether it was the pain she missed or if it was a form of self-torment she had grown accustomed to.
They had made the collective decision to enlist with the 104th Scouts during the recruitment drive. Morganw was determined Morgan; she did not want to be the weakest in the trio.
Jean shared the training, grunting under the weight of his own log, his face contorted with effort. His struggle mirrored Morgan's, and for her, there was an unexpected humor. The log slipped from her grasp, and she quickly stepped back to avoid it crashing down onto her feet or trapping her hands beneath its weight. Her gaze shifted to Jean, a playful look in her eyes, and she pointed at him, her laughter breaking free.
"Morgan, don't laugh at him!"
"Look at his face!"
"Shut the hell up, Morgan!" Jean bellowed, letting the log thump to the ground. He clutched his hand, his skin broken and bleeding, the crimson droplets soaking into the earth below. "Man, this stings," he muttered through clenched teeth.
"Don't be a baby," Morgan retorted, her smile unyielding as she gulped down the refreshment Marco offered. The cool water was a relief she hadn't known she needed, the heat seemingly unnoticed until now, though it had been steadily marking her skin.
YOU ARE READING
𝗙𝗔𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗜𝗘𝗦 𝗕𝗘𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗬 , 𝗔𝗢𝗧
Fanfiction"My knuckles were bruised like violets Sucker-punching walls, cursed you as I sleep talked" 𝑰𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉, All Morgan wanted was to rebuild what she had lost. "Spineless in my tomb of silence Tore your banners down, took the battl...
