Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Missing pieces of my skull, I'll sew on patches of my own soul.
— Meteor Shower, Cavetown
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
━━━━━━ September 24, 2149
"WHEN WERE YOU BORN?" Casey asked, her words a whisper in the silent night, but Bellamy heard her clear as day. She had long since picked up a stick, beating it against the dirt in anxious fours. After Charlotte had killed herself and Murphy was banished, she couldn't even think of sleeping. The thought of returning to her tent where Murphy's cot was waiting for his return was too much to bear.
⠀⠀⠀"March 30th," Bellamy answered her, voice gravelly from the early morning. He glanced out of his peripheral to her with a raised brow.
⠀⠀⠀Bellamy wasn't the catalyst—that was Clarke—but the confirmation the others needed to continue their assault against Murphy. And yet, Murphy was the one to bury himself deeper in this pit. Casey knew it, though she would never admit it out loud. She would cast him aside and never speak of him again. Because they would only bring up how cruel and awful he was when she knows his brighter parts just as well.
⠀⠀⠀Casey did hold resentment in her heart for him. She would forever. But with the wristbands dead, she knew there was little else she could do but accept that she was stuck with him in her life. And he was here, sitting beside her as she grieved the loss of her brother. This was him apologizing for the part he played, and she accepted that there was no other way to say it.
