in which a girl with a heavy burden tries to find her way through the trials and torments of the earth they've come home to.
OR
in which she must rebuild.
EMBERS
JOHN MURPHY
DEATHLIES 2016
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN T...
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T H R E E
Althea woke much more peacefully this time. Her cheeks were hot, but her mind was quieter for once. She dreamt of her mother's death this time. It was reality, not a prediction of what could become. And that somewhat settled her pulse, slowed her over running heart and let herself feel human again.
"You're up just in time," Octavia says confidently beside her. Althea gives her a small smile that made Octavia feel like she was getting somewhere with this girl and her towering walls. "The machine noise has stopped and, guess what?"
"What?" Althea asks quietly, scooping a strand of hair back. "We're not going to die, are we?"
"No, it means we've landed." She smirks as she unclips her belt and jumps to her feet.
Others around them moved just as quickly. Althea fumbles to get her own belt open with shaking hands and blurring vision as she tries to block out the sight of two fallen bodies.
Just like the ones in her nightmare. It was a prediction, she knew that much, but it was the first time she's seen the result and it made her stomach lurch and her eyes water with tears. Her tongue is dry in her mouth and her throat burning.
Her fingertips press to her lips as she watches the third boy who'd been floating around checking their bodies, but he already knew the fate the two had succumbed. She stands, hand over her mouth and watching with watering eyes until she hears the scream of Octavia.
"We're back, bitches!" She shouted, her fingers in the air and a beam of happiness at her lips that should have made Althea smile too, but it didn't even cause a glimmer. She knew what was out there. Not radiation like Clarke Griffin feared, but people. People who would become the death bringers of the Earth.
As she took steady steps out of the ship, past Clarke, she let her eyes wander what Earth had to offer. She had to admit, it looked positively wonderful and smelt just as good too, but that only filled the other ninety-nine with false hope.
Hope that could be shattered with great ease.
Clarke watched the observant girl with care. She knew what Althea's mother attempted against her own mother and she knew that Althea had assisted. But, looking at the fragile ghost before her she wasn't so sure the girl was a criminal. She was more dead than living. A shell of the girl she'd seen before.
And Clarke was right. Althea was far from a criminal. She was merely a tortured soul with a mind of crows and lungs of fire.
Althea took one look at the sky and knew that she would rather be up there than here on the ground. The crows in their cloaks of black and their ever-watching eyes made her jealous. They could fly away from all of this, they were free.
If only Althea were as free as they were then maybe she would not be tortured by her own mind whenever she attempted to find peace.
