Bellarke One-Shots

Remember Me

Authors note, this is a sad story about forgetting and remembering, loving and losing.

Clarke's POV

Everything looked a little brighter, a little lighter, a little happier.

Her mom was to her left, dancing with arms wide open, gracefully hopping and twirling around her dad who held a camera over one eye, covering nearly the rest of his face. Part of his smile was visible, a wide, toothy grin only ever displayed when he was with her mom. They had that love, where it was evident they were meant to be together forever and they were always happier together. They made her believe in love.

She turned her head to the right and saw her sister mimicking her moms fluid movements, a mini version of her mom, people always said, with arms flapping embracing the gentle breeze and gliding around. Flying, they called it.

She laughed. She couldn't help it. This was happiness. This was joy. This was peacefulness and she wanted to enjoy it. Because this was not reality, not anymore at least.

She glanced one last time at the beautiful scene, her mom and sister flying freely and her dad capturing the moment contentedly, before the bright light consumed her picture of joy.

Clarke opened her eyes one at a time. Then, closed them quickly as the light was blindingly bright. She blinked a few more times before she was able the keep them open.

She sat there for a few moments taking in her surroundings. She was in a bed, a hospital bed. In a horribly thin hospital gown. Nurses and doctors flooded the hallways moving swiftly and purposefully. There were machines buzzing behind her and she noticed she was hooked up to most of them.

Her head felt fuzzy and she couldn't think clearly because every time she tried to think of why she was here, in this hospital, her mind came up short. She couldn't remember. In fact, she couldn't remember a lot of things.

She remembered her name, Clarke Griffin. She remembered her favorite color was brown, an odd choice, she admitted to this memory, but she couldn't remember why brown was her favorite, it just was. She even remembered the drawing she entered in the middle school art contest some odd years ago, it was of a women, she was on a mountain top, her arms spread wide, as if they were blowing with the wind, although her face was shadowed by the sun.

There were, however, a lot of things Clarke couldn't remember. She didn't even know where to start, so she didn't. For some reason, she felt like she was tired of trying to figure things out. So, she closed her eyes, giving in to the allure of sleep.

She opened her eyes again a few hours later, or maybe it was days or weeks, she didn't know and she didn't care, because she couldn't remember where she was supposed to go after she left the hospital. Clarke didn't have time to ponder this as a nurse appeared at her side, "How are you feeling?" The nurse asked checking various tubes and bandages.

"Fine." Clarke respond, voice raspy from lack of use.

"Good."

"Where am I?"

"You are in the Jaha Memorial Clinic." The nurse glanced up and studied Clarke for a minute.

"How long have I been here?" Clarke asked. She wasn't sure why she asked the question, but she did. 

"A couple days." The nurse said still bustling around. "Eat this." She pointed to a tray. "And get some sleep."

Clarke didn't respond. She doubted she had much choice in the second command as she felt the pain killers drowsy effect kick in.