EXILE

iii •

Scotia was thrown into a room, nothing close to a cell. Wires and vines were hanging from the walls like an infestation. The walls were thrown together and held together by no more than their weight against each other. Their ship was a mass that had crashed to the Earth and was barely keeping itself together, the entire camp reeked of pathetic attempts of civilization.

The door opened twice. Once to throw Scotia inside, a second time when a woman in uniform walked in with a chair. Another guard shadowed her, carrying a second chair and set it in front of Scotia. She refused to move and fall into their cordial disguise.

The Grounder stayed curled between the floor and the wall. She knew better than to trust the one that imprisons you, they are never the one to look out for you.

"Sit, please." The blonde woman gestured to the chair once the guard had left. She had a patch on her chest that read: Capt. Byrnes. Scotia wondered what kind of captain offered their prisoner any courtesy other than water and scraps.

Scotia glanced at the captain. She took the opportunity to rest. Her joints hurt from being curled up for so long and her she could feel the stabbing pain in her back.

"So tell me about the damage your people have done?" The woman leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees. "Your name?" The captain was clearly unamused by Scotia's lack of communication, but she had faced worse than a few harshly directed question. "Do you speak English?" She demanded.

"Ai don't speak Gonaslang to jokas." Scotia spoke through gritted teeth.

Unable to understand what she spoke of, she rose to her feet, stalking closer to the Grounder. She peered down her nose at Scotia and bending down to her level.

"How many of you are there?" She questioned, her waning patience obvious in her expression as she sneered down at Scotia.

"Hani." Scotia shrugged. She quickly lost all feeling of ignorance when the captain's hand collided with the side of her face, catching her off guard and forcing her face to the side.

Scotia held her unwavering appearance, ignoring the sting on her skin. Even if she had faced worse, it didn't stop the pain that rose with the familiar feeling, but the Captain was nothing compared to her home.

"Tell me!" The captain's patience were wearing thin even after a few questions. She was frustrated with the scarce amount of responses she was getting from the Grounder. Kids were dead because of her people and she couldn't even answer a few questions.  

Without another answer, Scotia was forced out of the chair by the simple momentum behind the captain's punch.

"Byrne!" Someone yelled, running into the holding area. The captain's attack on the Grounder was stopped before she could land any more blows.

Scotia wiped her face, feeling the blood pool under her nose. She quickly wiped the dark substance away. Not even Scotia's people knew of color it ran, there was no telling what the Sky People would do if they knew.

"She's the reason they're dead." Byrne pointed an accusing finger at the Grounder, ignoring Kane who stood in her way.

"I need you to step out." He waved in two guards to escort the captain out of the holding area. He turned to the Grounder, she was now standing against the wall watching them all. "My apologies." Kane said.

She stalked towards the corner like a trapped animal threatening to break out with the first chance she got. She settled into the corner, taking a seat on the floor and watching the two men.

Kane had just finished questioning Bellamy and had come here for some answers, but that now seemed out of the question. "Take her to the holding area." He instructed the guards.

Scotia's hands were bound once more and she was brought to another room, this one exactly like the last, but it was occupied by two other prisoners.

Scotia was brought to the corner and tied to the wall. She watched the two boys. One was the boy, Bellamy, who she tried to help. The other was the boy Bellamy attacked, his name must have been Murphy.

Gunshots sounded from outside. Scotia had become familiar with the sound, it almost always meant Sky People who felt threatened.

"This should be fun." Murphy's dry voice sounded from across the room.

They sat in silence for many hours of the day. The only sound came from the screaming outside their holding area. Judging by their looks, the boys knew the girl that must've been under some form of pain.

"Yeah, that was me at the Grounder camp." Murphy spoke up, sending a glare towards Scotia.

But Scotia only glared back. After a long look, she could see his mischievous eyes, how sharp they would've been before torture. He was the boy they freed to release the sickness into the Sky People's camp.

"I did everything I could no to scream, but eventually—"

Bellamy cut him off, not giving him a chance to explain his story. "But eventually, you broke, and you told them everything." He said, directing his angry gaze to the floor, attempting not to let Murphy get on his nerves.

"And you wouldn't have, because you're better than me." Murphy scoffed.

"Damn right." Bellamy kept looking at the floor. "I'm not a traitor. I didn't tell them where they could find us." He finally looked up at the boy.

"And I did."

The way he curled in on himself, how he calmly ran his finger along the walls. Scotia saw the boy as a cockroach simply trying to exist, but his idea of survival was different than his people's. His was survival of himself, no one else.

"Yeah, I did. After they tortured me in their prisoner camp for three days. But go ahead. You just keep believing...even if you are in here, just like me."

Scotia adjusted her position, facing away from the boys and their pointless talk of who is better. Morals did not matter in this world, everyone has done something bad in someone's eyes and if they haven't yet, they will.