Strife - The 100

Chapter 6

Third POV

Lightning flashed through the night of the sky, like a light bulb flickering on and off to change into a new one. Heavy rain pelted against the woods, making everything that is living to hide and take shelter underneath this horrible weather.

However, somewhere deep in the woods, Anastasia was stumbling against her own two feet. She didn't know where she was at or where the hell she was going at the moment. In all honesty, she didn't care. She could practically feel the exhaustion seeping through her body, the rain rattling her bones. But her mind was telling to just keep going, to just keep walking. And that's what she did. She just kept walking, like a ghost in the night. A lost soul with no purpose in life.

To say that Anastasia had better days, will be an understatement of the century. Her clothes were once again stuck to her body, like a second layer of skin. It seemed no matter what she does, she can never stay dry, be covered in mud, or even the special days, in blood. Wet mud stains are covered all over the knees of her new pants, some of the mud even caking her pale skin. Water swished inside her shoes, making her toes feel uncomfortable and her feet to blister even more.The skin around her knuckles were raw red, with an ugly, purple color raising around the area.

She could feel her body shivering and quivering, something that she knows is a bad sign. It was her body trying to keep warm but this created for her to lose energy at the same time. A resource that she knew that she was draining out of. However, the negative impact of this situation is the fact that she didn't even felt the cold hitting her. She didn't feel anything as a matter of fact.

Anastasia wiped the wet strand of hair that blocked her line of vision, her movements appearing robotic but at the same time, there was a limp in each step that she took. Her dark eyes were half-open, the rain droplets momentarily affecting her line of vision. Her thin cheeks were pale white from the cold but the tip of her nose and ears were turning red. Her breathing was labored as she continued to venture through the woods.

Her trembling fingers slowly raised up, the palm of her hands digging into her temples as she shook her head side by side. Strings of words that did not make sense flowed out of her mouth, as if her brain was short circuiting out of her control. The pressure building around her temple did nothing to calm her raging mind, her pale fingers gliding through her wet and frizzy locks before giving it a harsh tug.

Continuing to stumble in the abyss of darkness, with no destination in mind, Anastasia closed her eyes right in the moment when a clap of thunder boom in the sky. The noise itself, snapped something inside of her. Her bottom, blue, lip quivered as the image of Charlotte throwing her small body of the edge of the cliff kept repeating over and over behind her eyelids. The scared look on the Charlotte's face, as if this was the only choice she had left, gave Anastasia a godly pain deep in her chest. It was like she couldn't breathe anymore.

No matter how much she tried, she was never good enough. She murdered her own parents. She couldn't save Charlotte. Clarke and others believe that all she is capable off is fighting and killing. When she tried to push people away, they just came after her, demanding her to be with them despite every attempts that she tries to be left alone. And when she actually started to become comfortable over someone, they leave her behind. Making her deal with her own grief and sorrow all by herself, without anyone else giving a damn about her.

Her frozen fingers that were threaded in her hair woven out before she placed the palm of her hands on her face again, this time over her eyes. The uncomfortableness of feeling her eyeballs being squished behind her hands made her skin crawl even more. Her fingers twitched for what felt like the hundredth time before they curled harshly into balls of fists. Her feet soon stumbled into a slow stop as Anastasia hunched over.