Prisoner 83 | the 100

chapter forty-three

It had been almost three months since everything had happened at Mount Weather, and two month since Hazel pushed everyone that was once important to her out of her life. Excluding Jasper, but that was only because he was her fellow drunk.

Everyday, the dirty blonde would wake up and try to ice out whatever Raven had to say about Wick, though that seemed to have ended as quickly as it had started. Then she would dodge anything that had to do with medicine, get drunk with Jasper, ignore a few people, try to fight some other people, and then she would go back to her room and proceed to get almost no sleep at all. Because when she slept, she had nightmares. And Hazel didn't want to have nightmares.

Oh, and she spent all of her free time training with Lincoln. Well, as much time as she could.

Hazel tended to avoid going to the group sessions as much as possible, which were scheduled three times a day. And the Grounder wouldn't let her train when she showed up drunk or hungover.

To say that she had a hard life, was an understatement.

Being sober was like torture for the twenty-something year-old (she still wasn't sure what her age was but she settled on anything in the early twenties). Every moment that she spent in her right state of mind felt like she was in the wrong state of mind. Hazel knew that something was wrong with her—very wrong, for that matter. But, she refused to talk to anyone about it because she could no longer trust anyone. Except for maybe Lincoln, but he had already made it clear that he was not her therapist.

The one person that she surprisingly happened to be closer with was Skyla, one of her old classmates on the Ark. They used to compete for first place in medical school all the time before Hazel was arrested, though the dirty blonde didn't know it. Everything came naturally to her whereas Skyla put in many more hours and hard work that Hazel ever did.

Though they were acquaintances, no one knew what to make of their relationship. Half of the time, the two women were arguing with each other and the other half, they were insulting each other.

Just earlier that day, Skyla had made fun of how the dirty blonde managed to shut out everyone that was ever important to her out of her life. That earned her a jab in the stomach.

Hazel was so caught up in her inner demons that she barely even noticed that she had just been thrown on the ground. She let out a pained grunt before glaring up at the dark-skinned man above her. "What the hell was that?"

"You left," came Lincoln's simple response.

The dirty blonde was quick to defend herself, "What do you mean? I've been here the whole time."

The Grounder rolled his eyes, they both knew that her physical presence was not what he meant.

Lincoln was the only one that knew the ex-medic wasn't right in the head and didn't do anything to try and fix it. It was almost as if he understood what it was like to have your mind tearing itself apart. But that was because he did. Ever since he had been cured, Lincoln suffered from undiagnosed post traumatic stress disorder.

Though, Hazel was sure that he was dealing with the mind altering disorder—considering he was a Reaper at one point. She knew that because she endured the same thing, especially after hearing about the fate of her younger brother.

Again, the dirty blonde's body hit the ground. But this time, she didn't get up. Lincoln stuck his foot into her side but she refused to move. "I'm done," Hazel said as she tapped the ground repeatedly, using up the rest of her energy.

"You can't just decide to be done. When you're in a fight, you can't just take a timeout."

Hazel rolled her eyes, "Well, it's a good thing no one's trying to fight me."