❝I don't do regrets. Regrets are pointless. It's too late for regrets. You've already done it, haven't you? No point wishing you could change it.❞
Elissa Bardot-Gray was never the one to be classified as a "rule breaker". She had a high-rankin...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
FORCING THE TIP of her knife through a large section of the parachute, Elissa roughly tore through, easily ripping the material to a size that would be decent enough to make some form of a makeshift stretcher. From what Clarke had told them, Jasper wouldn't be walking back on his own. They would need it.
Wells had given it back to her not long after the fight with Murphy had come to an end. Surprisingly, things had settled down pretty quickly when Clarke and the rest arrived back at the dropship, although the momentary peace hadn't lasted very long, not when Clarke had noticed the missing wristbands. Elissa sighed, remembering the scene, which had involved an awful lot of finger pointing and 'you're such an idiot' comments.
And now we're going after Jasper.
The thought left a sour taste in her mouth. Clarke and the rest had returned bearing an abundance of bad news. Not only had they not made it to Mount Weather—which meant no food and no supplies—they'd also arrived with one less member than the number they'd originally set out with.
Charlotte sat not too far away from her, watching her work.
Elissa had finally come to fetch her from Harper, who'd been grateful to have her off her hands, but had whispered to her quietly that she'd managed to keep Charlotte away from the commotion with Murphy.
The repeated motion of pulling and tearing soothed her mind, calming her thoughts. Staring blankly at the material in her hands, she rolled the rough material through her fingertips, trying to avoid thinking about the fact that Jasper could possibly lying somewhere out in the forest, bleeding out, maybe already dead—left to nature. Her fists clenched at the thought. She hadn't known the other teen any longer than she'd known most of the other delinquents, but he'd been the first person she'd talked to on the dropship. Although their conversation had been short, she'd known he'd meant well, showing concern for Charlotte when she was scared, and risking his life to help the others go to Mount Weather to get supplies for the group.
He meant well, and look where it got him.
No, don't think about it. One step at a time. Clarke said they heard him cry out, there's still a chance that he's alive. We just need to get out shit together and get this search part going. We need to get him back.
"Elissa?" The tentative question interrupted her thoughts, and she glanced up, meeting Charlotte's worried gazes. Apparently she'd moved closer while Elissa'd been distracted by her thoughts.
"Yeah, what's up?"
Charlotte shuffled forwards, hands clasped firmly in front of her. "Is Jasper going to be okay?" The question came out tentative, like she wasn't quite sure she wanted to know the answer.
Elissa hesitated, studying the girl for a second. What could she tell her? What should she tell her? She was easily the youngest in the entire group of delinquents—still a child—but she was no longer living in a world where she was protected, where she was safe. Elissa could tell her white lies—but she knew it wouldn't help Charlotte. She needed to be wary; she needed to know the truth if she was going to keep herself alive.
