𝐃𝐔𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐘.
/djuːˈbʌɪɪti/
noun.
1. the state or quality of being doubtful; uncertainty.
2. god, emily's just so freakin' confused all the time!
❝barnaby, i will skin you alive.❞
[ the 100, seasons 1 - 2 ]
[ bellamy blake x oc ]
FIRST INSTALLMENT...
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2.8. | DON'T HOLD BACK
___
FOR THE REST of the night, I try my best to avoid Abby and even Raven. Or everyone in Camp Jaha for that matter. I'd like to spend some time by myself at last, especially after this emotionally exhausting day that homed one too many proclamations of terrible news.
Throughout the journey of the moon, I remain awake, counting the uncountable and thinking the unthinkable. Only when I lose count of the brightest stars for the third time in a row, I decide to give up and roll over onto my side with a frustrated groan. I ignore the way my body screams in protest as I lie on the hard surface of the ground, the blanket beneath me not improving the comfort of my nap whatsoever. I still find myself unable to rest.
Staring into the woods that circle the camp and listening in to the never ending chatter of the workers, I don't even notice that my cheeks are covered in wet tracks until I reach up to touch the skin that is being tickled by the silent tears.
I just want a break. I want to live just a single day without fighting with my father, who has now gone missing, I want to wake up and be greeted by one of my grandmother's warm smiles, which I will never see again no matter how much I try to wish it into happening. I want to listen to Jasper and Monty's unstoppable bickering, and Aiden's constant complaints about the smallest of inconveniences. I want to crack jokes with Bellamy. I want to live a normal life, not this everlasting nightmare of what the Earth brings us day after day.
Unfortunately, it is just a fantasy that is yet to be or even won't be fulfilled due to the pile of issues surrounding humankind and me in particular.
The peaceful chatter suddenly grows louder and finally distracts me and lulls me out of my thoughts. I push myself up using my uninjured arm, and see a small crowd forming by the gates of the camp. I slowly stand and make my way toward the entrance to our growing town, picking up my pace to reach the bustling place faster. Just barely reaching the crowd, I come to a halt and try to crane my neck so I can see over the many heads of the guards, though it doesn't help much; the wall of spectators is growing too thick. Thankfully, I balance myself back onto my feet and the people part, allowing a group to walk through.
I can barely suppress my cry of relief the moment I realize that it's Clarke, Finn, Murphy and the Blake siblings, and I rush forward until I've reached the group's side, falling into step with them.
Receiving multiple greetings at the same time, I blink in momentary confusion, before settling for a simple reply of a greeting in return. I twist my neck to the side to glance at Finn and Murphy, making sure they aren't injured, and everyone appears healthy enough — physically, that is, because their faces suggest a turmoil that is deeper than a daily wound, "What's going on? Why do you all look so..."
