Survival's a Bitch

Chapter 3: Trees are not always your friend

You weren't exactly happy that the Grounders had shot you and strung you up next to Moaning Myrtle, but at least they had done you the curtesy of patching you up a bit first. In their defense, they weren't trying to get you killed. Unfortunately, they didn't understand that by hanging you up for the search party + Murphy to find had all but signed your death warrant. Avoiding death was getting to be a bit too tasking, and you were considering leaving your journal for Raven to find when she got to this god-forsaken planet. You had taught her Greek as soon as you had discovered your knowledge of it, it was a cute little code you could pass each other notes with in class. If she ever noticed that you exclusively wrote your journal in it, she had never asked. That was one of the reasons you had trusted her with it. She wouldn't go poking her nose in shit unless it was absolutely necessary, and if that were the case she was the person you wanted to have it anyway.

She could figure out what to do with the information you had catalogued in your series of journals, and you could just give up and die already. It wasn't exactly like you knew what to do with it yourself. Best case scenario, radiation still wipes you out in less than a year. So what if the Grounders got to a few of you a little earlier? You were in a bit of a cynical mood after listening to Jasper cry like a dying horse for the last day and a half. You were starting to wish you had been the one shot in the chest. At least then you might still be unconscious. Better than having to watch Murphy burst through the brush and recognize you damn near immediately after making eye contact.

"Vomit girl." He growled before booking it in a full-blown sprint towards your tree. You really felt like you were allowed to claim ownership over it. Something about having your hands ground into its branches really evoked a personal connection. Nothing could have been better than watching Murphy fall straight into a pit of spears. Except maybe if Bellamy hadn't grabbed him last minute.

"I was kinda hoping he had taken himself out." You hardly finished your sentence before descending into a coughing fit. "Damn, I sound like shit."

The search party just looked at you. I guess they hadn't expected the added victim. Finn was the first to recover, calling your name.

"I was looking everywhere for you! What the hell happened?"

"Do you mean before or after I nearly escaped death by Murphy?" Your grin didn't last long before you were coughing again. "Think I could get some water?"

"Yeah. Yeah. Of course." He was climbing up after you without much further ado, but so was Murphy.

"You know I think I'd rather stay, if you know what I mean, Murphy? If you could just take your ass right back down to the bottom that would be greatly appreciated."

He let out what you could only describe as a sick grin before continuing the climb. Finn climbed faster.

"Murphy, back off." You never really liked Bellamy in the first few episodes, but he was definitely good in your book after this. You definitely would not shit talk him in your mind after this. Probably.

Finn got to you, cutting the vines around your wrists and chest. "I mean, really? You had to throw up on the guy?"

"Give me a break-" you gasped sharply as he threw your arm over his shoulder. "Wrong arm, asshole, WRONG ARM!"

"Shit shit shit! I'm so sorry!" He adjusted as quickly as was comfortably possible before taking you to the base of the tree.

"-anyways. Cut me some slack." You inhaled sharply, before continuing through gritted teeth. "You know I get motion sick."

Finn couldn't help but chuckle. He did know, after all. Your first projectile vomitting incident had left him the victim after all.

"How could I forget."

"At least you didn't try to kill me over it."

Clarke did not look particularly pleased with you. You figured it was a combination of opening the door despite her misgivings and the fact that you were thrown over Finn right now. Again, you would just like to remember the scraping. You were about to mention it when a panther entered the clearing. You had recalled it at some point in your life, as it was certainly mentioned in your journal, but had conveniently forgotten of until this moment. You just thought death by Murphy was scarier.

A few shots later, and by a few, you meant the whole round because Wells was an absolutely GARBAGE shot, the issue was taken care of. Aside from a racing heart, you weren't too perturbed. Future sight does that to you. Instead, you started off where you left off.

"I really don't think he should get the gun. Just for future reference." All you could manage was a low growl at this point, which you thought only Finn had heard as he let out an equally low chuckle, but a side-glance from Bellamy — weren't sure if it was a glare — told you he had heard you.

After a pause, you found yourself uncomfortable with the eye-contact and the silence. "We were neighbors, you know." You looked at Clarke. Okay. Maybe not everyone else was as unbothered by almost dying by oversized cat as you were. But in your defense you had had a lot of near death experiences lately, and it wasn't your fault you were growing immune to them.

Finn looked at you like you were a little bit crazy, but also, he already knew that. "Maybe introductions another time? Like after we get the hell out of here."

"Fair," was all you said, but you were really wondering when you were gonna get to confront Clarke on her terrible habit of having no consideration for her neighbors. Another time, you supposed. You would not forget so soon.

When you got back to camp, you were not above trading your bracelet for food, though you were under the distinct impression you were not making any progress with Clarke. What she didn't know was that the bracelets would short circuit anyway so you might as well profit while you still could. You probably could have just stolen some food, too, but honestly you just wanted to blend in, if that was even still a possibility.

As you took the skewer from Bellamy, you were really glad you hadn't stuck around for the pilot episode. His hair looked truly awful with all that gel. You realized you had stared too long and eye contact was uncomfortable, a little too late. Awkward.

"Ha hah..." You turned and walked away. Better to cut your losses. Quit while you're behind or something like that. You weren't very good with idioms. You didn't know if there were any extra tents, but you weren't about to ask Bellamy now were you? To the third floor of the dropship it was.

It was time to take a good look at your journal. You had a feeling you'd be needing it.