Phoenix || Bellarke x The 100

Prologue

Prologue

•

(Isolation)

Clarke had become accustomed to the isolation that was her prison cell. The silence that filled the room, accompanied only by the faint hum of the engines, had become comforting to her. For a year now, this cell had become her home, and so she made it seem that way. She was determined to leave a mark, to make the steel-grey walls seem less haunting. And with all her time trapped in the isolated room, she was able to use her artistic skills to do just that.

From the many textbooks and stories she's read about life on Earth, she was able to imagine what it would look like. She pictured the shining moon reflected on the dark blue waters at night, the suns rays peaking through the trees in the forest, the flowers blooming in the spring. It was like she was already there and could smell their scent. Every image that came to her mind, she drew on the walls, the floors, the ceiling, using the few spare pencils she managed to steal one day (but she told herself she was only borrowing them).

It didn't really matter anyways, Clarke was almost 18 which means she would be trialed in a few months. Judged on whether or not it was safe to release her back into society. She didn't get her hopes up though. She knew that they couldn't afford to keep her around. She knew too much. She was to be floated just like her father, and she had come to terms with the fact. She's rather be floated than live, knowing what she knew and having to hide it. Her conscience wouldn't stand for it.

And so day after day, Clarke would draw. Imagining what her life would have been like if she was born 100 years ago and able to roam the Earth, without the fear of the death sentence looming over her head, or all their heads for that matter. It was inevitable.

Finn still had hope. He didn't think they would float him at 18. He thought his crime was forgivable, only he didn't have an excuse, but this was his time to think of one. He thought he could talk his way out, he was always the charmer. No, death wasn't his biggest concern. Mostly, he was worried about Raven. Now that he had landed himself in this hole, she was alone and he knew that she could make brash decisions without his advice there to help guide her. Death was nothing compared to the fear that his girlfriend would get herself killed.

Girlfriend. Was she still that to him? It had been months since he took her place against the law, ultimately saving her life. He didn't regret it, honestly he probably would have done it for anyone. Yet these months away from her, he found his heart also started to stray further and he found himself thinking less and less about her every day. He knew that when he saw her again (if he wasn't floated) all those feelings would come rushing back. But for now? For now he didn't know what to think.

He laid back onto the knobbly metal bed, staring up into the stars through the window on his ceiling. He sighed. It wasn't his fault he was in there, but he knew he wouldn't be able to live with himself if it went any other way. Yet the days just kept on getting longer, and with only himself as company, the opportunities for conversation were gone. He knew he was changing, but maybe that was okay too. Maybe he was supposed to change. Who knows? Maybe when he sees Raven again, the feelings won't come rushing back.

Octavia hated her cell. The steel walls seemed to glare at her, and so she would glare right back. She was constantly filled with anger, and knew that there was nothing she could do to avoid her fate. She was born. That was her crime.

She was used to the isolation and the closed off space. For years she lived under the floor, so the cell felt quite roomy to those standards. It was also nice for her to be able to watch the sky above for a change, instead of the metal floor board that concealed her from the world. Even though the room was nice to her standards, she would never be happy with it because she knew that those shouldn't be her standards. She shouldn't of had to grow up from beneath a floor, in fear of being discovered. Lack of human contact was normal for her, and she hated the law for it.