𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍, bellamy blake ¹

01; remember you by

"There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you."

— Maya Angelou, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

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"YOU CAN DO THIS, NOE. YOU CAN DO THIS. QUIET." The girl winced as the panel of wall slid against the others. Her eyes darted over her shoulder, nervously. No one stood at her window—the guards tended to keep away from her cell, unless to jeer. There was a reason why she had been in Solitary for a year. "Yes," Naomi hissed, ever-so-gently placing the panel on the ground. "Now." She pulled the map out from where it had been pressed inside the cup of her bra, along with a spare key-card. But there were guards in the corridors now, and it was too risky to attempt to sneak right past them.

The map was messing, scrawled with her own writing. How she had even gotten a pencil was a long and complicated story. Her fingers traced against the scrambled lines of the vent. She had memorised this route many times in her mind, but she wanted to make sure one last time. Forwards past three openings; then take a left; climb upwards; past another two openings; and a right; an immediate left; down two sets. And she was at Charlotte's room. Take her, then climb back up. Take another two rights in a row and continue down the path until fifteen openings have been passed, and steal O away. No one would even notice until they were gone.

Where would they hide? Well, she hadn't quite thought that far again. They'd track down Bellamy, for sure. But this plan had taken far too long to be initiated—only beginning when that stupid guard left his shock-lash in the room. She could have used it against all of them, maybe gotten to see her sister through the bars before they tasered her. Instead, she dismantled the thing piece by piece until she found a bit long enough to pull apart the ventilation shaft.

It reminded her of when she was a child, sneaking through the shafts to see the Blake siblings. And of other times.

She took one last once over of the map and folded it into her fists. It would be too dark to see in the vents, and best she kept moving.

Naomi slid into the vent, pressing her body through the opening and sliding inside. It was a good thing they were fed limitedly in the Skybox, or she may not have fit at all. She smiled at that thought, using her strong arms to pull herself the rest of the way through. She crawled forward for a moment, before there was a familiar hiss of her cell door opening.

Shit.

"Hey!"

Noe launched herself forward, scrabbling against the smooth metal, a pipe cutting deep against her shoulder in the movement. Air from the ventilation hissed around her and the metal was hot against her bare skin.

A hand enclosed around her foot and pulled her back.

"No!" she yelled. She dug her fingers into the grooves of metal, hearing the tearing of her fingers as she tried to resist the tugging of the guards. She kicked a foot back and hoped it to hit the guard in the face. She heard one yell. She hoped it was Jeremy—she fucking hated that bastard.

She was hauled back as another hand grabbed at her ankle. "No!" she cried again. "No!" She pressed her knee against the side of the vent as to push herself forward. Her hands gripped at the pipe above her head. For a second it seemed as if she was going to get away.

The pipe snapped, and Naomi could only duck her head in time before a wave of searing hot air screamed down at her. The heat caught her wrist and she let go with a cry.

Noe was hauled backwards and onto the floor. She kicked out, swinging a leg and throwing an arm. She was screaming profanities and incoherent words as she struggled. She clipped a guard with her foot and managed to stand, baring her fists at the next. When he lunged, she stepped back. But Naomi was out of practice, and so when the next punch came it slammed into her cheek.