Get Lucky| b.blake

Get Lucky| b.blake

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WpMetadataReadZakończone sob., lut 27, 20162h 4m
There were two things I knew. I was going to die. And I was sitting next to Bellamy Blake. Okay, I was going to die while sitting next to Bellamy Blake. "I hate earth." I said one night while sitting by the fire. Mick had just died from acid rain. Acid rain. What a joke. I was better off rotting in a cell in the Ark. "Oh really?" Bellamy said to me. He plopped down next to me. I rolled my eyes. "Come on Fallon it's not that bad." He suggested to me and poked the fire. I glanced at my wrist band. "I just watched my best friends burned alive by rain." I hissed at him. He sighed. "Maybe you just need to get lucky." (A Bellamy Blake/ The 100 Story)
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Earth. A vast expanse of ways to die. A place of supposed beauty and amazing things. I mean, I wouldn't know, because I wasn't born a hundred plus years ago. Instead, I was born in space, the year 2132. One hundred years after a massive radiation bomb blew up on Earth. Only now is it safe to go down. The year 2149. One hundred years later. The way to get there? Already secured passage by being a murderer, a secret-keeper, a traitor, and all in all, living. My name is Shayla Collins, and this is my story.

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