Fireball

Chapter 1 : The Art Of Getting Treed

Chapter 1 : The art of getting treed.

Afternoons are the prime of a day. You can get so much done in an afternoon: washing, baking, moving only an inch from where you're lying on the ground burning to death, cleaning, etc.

What was that? You want me to repeat that middle one?

Hah.

Stupid fucking explosions that make me have to crawl away like some kind of useless turtle.

There was a tasteless whining in my ears, and I could have sworn I saw a large white mass moving in the trees.

But moving on from the possible giant polar bear I had witnessed, I was bored. My back hurt, I wanted to throw up and no one was helping me.

Like seriously, I may be pouting and trying to pull the sympathy card but where the hell was everyone?

Serious shit must be going on because there's no way they would forget me. I am the star criminal of that camp.

If they gave out awards, I would for sure win the most outstanding.

Actually, come to think of it, an award ceremony would be pretty freakin' awesome. And I could host it.

Clarke would win best leader- suck it Bellamy.

Jasper would win most comical.

Monty would win most adorable.

Octavia would win most badass.

Carter would win most precious tree speaker.

Miller would win sexiest guard- once again, suck it Bellamy.

Raven would win moodiest pretzel.

Finn would win cutest smile.

And Bellamy could win most annoying bitter handsome devil.

And my commentary as host would be the most epic thing of all time.

I have such great ideas, honestly Jaha would have missed out had he killed me.

Come to think of it, everybody would have missed out had Jaha killed me.

I am quite literally fabulous.

Currently incapacitated. But fabulous.

And modest.

So like I was saying before I so rudely interrupted myself, afternoons are a great thing. And I spent a hell of a while lying down for one, contemplating why I always seemed to get into these situations.

It was always one thing after another, which was funny because it was nearly always my fault. Obviously the barbecued Grounders weren't, but still.

When the sun was setting, and stars were appearing, I foolishly fell asleep. It was possibly a few hours, maybe a full 24, but in any case it was pitch black when I awoke again.

I managed to pull myself off the floor and latch onto a tree before looking around into the abyss of darkness. Which way was camp again?

I shrugged it off- painfully because my shoulders hurt like a bitch- and headed off to my left, which I felt was the general direction of camp.

Let's hold up the story of camp walking for a bit, and talking about walking in general.

Walking was supposed to be a simple task, one foot in front of the other, really not that hard. The problem was, I was pretty much used to walking through steel corridors, with walls on either side, and a smooth surface.