SEVENTEEN

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S E V E N T E E N

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S E V E N T E E N

Althea awoke, arms still wrapped tightly around Charlotte, to the sound of shouting. Like usual, it was Clarke shouting and preaching her ideologies to the camp, her people. Althea lightly shakes Charlotte awake, lifting her off herself and standing up. Her bones creaking, her muscles cold.

Her lungs contract, pushing all the air from her and forcing a fault in her step as she is hit with the realisation of who Clarke is raging at: Murphy. Forgetting Charlotte, she hurries over to the crowds trying to push her way through. The crowd is thick, everyone gathering to watch the encounter as if it were a new sick kind of entertainment.

Finally, she manages to push through to stand beside Octavia. "What's happening?" She asks, looking to Octavia with worry-some eyes.

Seething with anger, Octavia replies. "He murdered Wells." Her voice was filled with anger, but her words alone struck panic into Althea's heart and burned through her veins, pulsing through her entire body.

Reeling from the revelation, Althea clutches onto Octavia's arm as her head swirls. She'd seen it. She'd seen Wells Jaha's death, but not knowing who was to do the deed she did not know how to help. But now she knew and it was too late. Wells was dead and it was at Murphy's hand.

The distress on Murphy's face was apparent, especially to Althea. Her eyes were already watering up as she watched his anger rising. No matter what she told him, he was always going to let his anger take over him like fire through a forest, burning whatever and whoever was in its path. Care was not apparent as it raged through the trees. Self-preservation the only thing in mind.

"I say we float him!" One boy shouts. Althea felt sick to her stomach, her fingers clenching around Octavia's arm as the chants of 'float him' grow louder and louder. They ring through her mind, slicing through her like knives and sticking in her like thorns.

"Octavia," She breathes, looking to the girl beside her with fearful eyes. Eyes that were normally so devoid of emotion, but now they were filled to the brim with panic and tears. "Make them stop!" She begs, trying to swallow her rising fear but it gets stuck in her throat.

Turning around just in time to see Murphy launch himself at one of the chanters, being pushed over in the process. He falls into the dirt, kicks being sent into his ribs. Althea could only imagine the crunch of his bones beneath their boots.

"Murphy!" She shouts, attempting to push forward but Octavia takes a hold of her and pulls her back. "You're going to let him die?" She hisses, disappointment clear on her detailed expression. Down here, every life mattered and to Althea, Murphy's life mattered. She'd seen him dying, hung from the tree and gasping for air, for life. Not telling him and merely warning him seemed like a wise idea, but now as Althea screamed his name and screamed for them to stop she found hate within herself.

Powerless to stop the murder of another, Althea falls into the arms of Octavia. Her knees were weak, her face clad in the tears of a girl who had seen death too often in her short lived life.

Her body shakes with sobs, Octavia holding her up, as the noose is strung over the tree branch and Murphy is stood upon the box, paraded as a murderer. The fear is clear on his expression, in his telling eyes that wordlessly begged for mercy.

Pulling herself away from speechless Octavia, Althea steps forwards towards Bellamy. "Bellamy," She says, her voice shaking. "Just make them stop. Please," She begs him and for a moment she believes he's going to surrender. Her hope is shattered, fleeing her like a flock of screeching crows.

Bellamy does not surrender his pride for the girl who begged. One movement, one kick sends the box from beneath Murphy and he is hanging. Choking and convulsing, begging for air but the rope forbids.

It's almost as if all the air is knocked from her lungs, her knees crumble beneath her and she falls to the ground as the tears stream down her face. her throat feels as if it is wrapped in ivy, constricted by the pain. Desperate, she scrambles for the rope suspending Murphy, but Bellamy drags her off.

"Don't touch me," She spits, jolting out of his reach. "Never touch me, you vile man." Hatred seeps from her, filling the air with its toxins. They were not catching.

"What are you doing? Cut him down!" Finn shouts as he rushes in through the crowd, but is restrained from reaching the rope. Althea's eyes land on Clarke, the hate dripping from her in the shape of tears. Pain filled tears which burned her cheeks like acid as they slipped away from her, letting the whole world know her agony. But Clarke looked shocked, panicked even, but Althea didn't have time to figure her out, her attention was consumed elsewhere as a shaken voice pipes up from the crowd.

"I did it!" Charlotte calls out, admitting her crime to the people who had strung up an innocent man. "I killed Wells!" Althea looks at her with eyes that burned, but with conflicting emotions as she was stunned frozen.

"Cut him down!" Finn shouts again. Clarke takes the axe, swinging it over her head and bringing it down on the rope. The moment the rope is severed, Murphy's body falls to the floor. Althea takes one last look at Charlotte before rushing to his side as Finn strips the noose from his neck.

She couldn't have scrambled to his side quicker. Offering Finn a small, swift smile before ducking down beside Murphy. "I'm so sorry," She murmurs, her hands slipping across his cheeks and her thumbs wiping the grime from beneath his dulled eyes. "I'm so sorry I didn't tell you."

"Thea, don't," He rasps, his neck burning as if it were on fire and there was nothing he could do to put it out.

The worry which had utterly consumed her still lingered as she helps him to his feet. Wrapping her hands though his, she speaks again much quieter this time. "You almost died today, I could have stopped that."

Her eyes dart over the raw, angry red marks running along his neck. They were ugly on his skin, brandishing him with the mark of a man who had been brought to his knees, reduced to nothing for a crime he did not commit.

"I'm a survivor," He responds, pulling her into him. Thankful for the truthful care she held for him in her shaking hands, Murphy presses a kiss to her forehead as their arms wrap around one another.

There was something about her hands pressing into his back that made him never want to let her go again. Her holding him, her hope for him and her trust in him should have been all that mattered. But again, anger took over. It burst through his veins with tremendous velocity with a lust for revenge and for justice for what he had endured, sending the crows into agonising fury.

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1213 words

my heart hurts. originally there was only going to be one more chapter after this but i'm thinking maybe two more? it depends on how it all works out and how long the chapters are.
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