Inferno

Chapter 25: This Calls For An Exile

A/N: Trigger Warning: This chapter contains mentioned sexual assault, if you're not comfortable, just don't read it! You have the power here reader, and it's not super detailed and nothing HAPPENS, but it is attempted. Just so you are aware!

Bellamy really should have seen it coming—all things considered. She prided herself on the fact that she was avoiding drama and trouble for the most part. It just so happened that luck was never on her side.

Two weeks without incident meant that surely, something was going to go wrong.

So here she was, on her day off—fully ready and prepared to help out in any way she could. See the thing about having an uneven number of runners meant that everyone partnered up and one person took a day off every day. It was a nice way to trade things around.

Still—she couldn't quite crack her habit of waking up just before the dawn. It seemed something rather engrained in her bones and hard to just stop doing. Her internal clock within her body always had her up when she needed to be.

Mornings were quiet and she preferred them that way. She preferred the quiet solitude of the Maze, given the chance to be alone with her thoughts. Given the opportunity to think—just her and herself.

And occasionally with different partners. Ben was nice enough, though he was more on the quiet side of things. He seemed rather wary of her, not that she blamed him. Hank was a chatterbox at times—and given the opportunity, seemed to ask her all too many questions.

Then there was Dan—he seemed determined to hate her. Given his friendship with Gally and the other Builders though, that shouldn't have been a surprise to her. They usually ran their routes in silence, with the occasional snarky comment here or there.

Last, but certainly not least was Minho. He seemed to prefer running with her, though she wasn't sure if it was because she usually outran him or because they could actually have a conversation. Once she got through the rough exterior, Minho was actually rather nice.

They talked about a lot of things—guesses about what the outside world was like, imagining their lives before, to the most random of scenarios. They worked well together and though he called her crazy a good portion of the time, Bellamy couldn't really fault him there.

She was crazy and she knew it.

Making her way outside to begin her morning stretches, Bellamy found the sky a light purple color. A small smile seemed to cross her features—purple was a nice color. It was only found in the flowers growing on the edge of the Glade.

She liked that color.

Still, she found herself drawn to the color black. Thus the reason for the black tank top and cargo pants. She was just grateful that there was more than one shirt available for her to wear (really the only thing to ever thank the Creators for).

There was barely anyone up today at this hour.

Bellamy began to jog lightly, insistent on keeping up with her training. Her body was sore from running every day, but she didn't want to be hurting more tomorrow. So she'd take the pain today.

Around and around she went, making her same stops she did every single morning.

Finding her way over by the trees, Bellamy took a seat under one of the larger trees. She rested her head on the rough bark behind her—wondering if it was possible to dream of reality. Of what really was.

Surely the memories she was seeking were just out of reach. And they had to be accessible somehow. She wasn't stupid—she was clever. She knew that much about herself. Creative, too.