Cobwebs and Flies

Ch5• Ghost Stories

6 months ago

Murphy was walking down the dark hallway, the lights flickering constantly for the council didn't care about the lower class enough to give them a decent living environment. He made his way to his flat where he met Malcom, his best friend, who was waiting for him by the door. Malcom had golden hair with bright blue eyes, and had known Murphy since they were kids. They used to be neighbors until Murphy's father was floated and he and his mom were relocated to a smaller flat.

They entered Murphy's flat and sat down on the couch, talking about their day. It was hours before his mother returned intoxicated and furious at life. As per usual, she took her anger out on Murphy and hit him when she saw his shirt on the floor.

This wasn't new to him so, he took it and remained silent. It was then that his mother lost it, grabbing a nearby glass bottle and smashing it against Murphy's skull, hard enough o sent him tumbling to the ground unconscious, blood seeping through the shirt that was still on the ground.

Malcom panicked, he grabbed the first thing he saw - an old rock that Murphy's father had inherited from his own father who had collected it from Earth before the nuclear apocalypse. In a swift movement, he threw the rock hard enough to knock her down, jumping onto her and beating her senseless for everything she had ever done to Murphy. It was years that he stood by and watched her deteriorate her own body with drugs and alcohol, taking out her own issues on Murphy who did nothing but exist in her presence.

Murphy rapidly regained consciousness, rubbing his head where he felt a gash upon his skull that was oozing warm blood. When he saw Malcom by his mother's side, he ran to them, finding her to be dead. "Malcom, what did you do?"

The boy was shaking, "I couldn't just sit here and watch her torture you." He looked down, "I'm sorry, Murphy."

Murphy wasn't angry, in fact, he felt nothing at all. At the lost of his mother, one is expected to cry, to scream and break down as they realize the person that gave them life is gone. However, Murphy couldn't help but feel relief as he laid his eyes on his mother's corpse.

"They'll float you." Murphy was now thinking about seeing his best friend trapped behind locked doors as he gets aspirated by space and spit out into pieces of what used to be a brave soul. "I won't let that happen, just go."

"Murphy-"

"Now, Malcom!"

Quickly, Malcom stood up and washed the blood from his hands before exiting the flat, leaving Murphy to deal with his mother's lifeless body. He quickly cleaned up the mess before dragging her to the nearest door. His father had worked in engineering and he had the opportunity to learn a thing or two about airlock chambers and their brilliant use for disposing of unwanted things.

When he reached it, he checked to see if anyone was around: there wasn't a ghost in sight for no one came down to the lower levels unless deemed absolutely necessary. He entered the password he'd gotten from his father; with any luck, the council hadn't deactivated his account yet. As he crossed his fingers, he heard the sound of the door opening and placed his mother on the ground before running back to the other side and sealing the door. With a push of a button, his mother was gone, forever forgotten by everyone who had had the horror of meeting her.

Returning to his flat, Murphy knew it was only a question of time before the guards realized he was alone and locked him up for being a lone rebel teenager. He couldn't help but think that maybe if he was in Pheonix - the higher class - than this whole ordeal would never have happened. He would have been relocated with a family within days rather than thrown in a cell and left to rot away.

Present

Bellamy, Murphy, Atom, and Sterling had gone out hunting a few hours ago, leaving the camp under Clarke's supervision. It wasn't written in stone, but people knew that Bellamy and Clarke were the leaders they desperately needed and respected their decisions. When they returned, the camp was waiting with grumbling stomachs, drooling at the sight of a deer Bellamy and Atom were carrying.

It was Monroe, Octavia, and Harper who prepared the meat for everyone while Jasper worked on getting a strong fire going before the sun rested for the night. Under the stars, Bellamy noticed Murphy sitting far away from everyone, isolated in his own bubble. With a confident stride, Bellamy brought him some meat, freshly cooked, and sat down beside him. Murphy didn't say a word, he reached for the meat and bit into it with hunger, staring back at Bellamy who's emerald eyes reflected the hundred of stars that shined above them.

"You know, Murphy," Bellamy spoke in between bites, "I don't take you for a killer."

Murphy raised his thick, dark brows and snickered, "Yeah? That's a first."

"I don't think you're as bad as you make yourself out to be." Bellamy smiled and looked Murphy in his dark blue eyes who contained a sort of light that Bellamy admired.

They didn't say much else but Murphy knew that he wasn't a murderer. He had never killed anything, let alone anyone. The way Bellamy looked at Murphy was different, he wasn't scared of him which surprised the boy but he felt content, a feeling he had rarely ever experienced.

That night, he found himself sleeping under the stars beside Bellamy, shocked that he hadn't wandered away as everyone had always done. Murphy shivered underneath the brisk wind, the cold shaking his bones. An arm wrapped itself around his chest and pulled him closer to the body next to him, Bellamy holding him close as they slept. For once in his life, Murphy wasn't afraid; he felt safe.