Persphyni: I am Determined

27

Whoosh

Thunk

Whoosh

Thunk

Whoosh

Thunk

Bark fell off in chipped pieces as I fired my arrows at the tree. A small target carved to provide an area to aim for. I notched and released the arrows quickly as I fired one after the other.

The arrowheads sinking into the tree as I shot them all into a tight cluster in the center of the smallest circle. I fired the last arrow and slowly lowered my bow.

A soft long breath escapes from my lips as the tension unwound from my shoulders. The tight balled up string of pain slowly unravels as I let myself find calm in my internal storm.

I had woken up with the moon still high in the night sky sweating and swearing as images of my dream haunted me. It was of the bunker. Only instead of empty lit up concrete, it was filled with blood and the light bulbs flickered.

Blood coated the walls both fresh and dried but there was no sigh of life. The only thing I could see were two figures laying on the floor sprawled out. Arms in a "t" as their legs were ramrod straight.

It was Octavia and my dad. Then when I turned around again Indra and Miller appeared in the same position. Then Gideon and Lyla. Then Abby and Jackson. Every time I turned around new bodies joined the pile of familiar faces. Every single one of them dead and drained. Their faces pale and skin tight to their bones.

I had killed them. They had died in the bunker and they had died alone and slowly. Atleast that is what shot through my bones as a warning of truth.

The bunker would no longer be the clean and shiny bunker I had left it as. No. Something much darker had taken place. How much darker? Only time would tell. I pray what occurred couldn't have been prevented, it would make things easier knowing death in the bunker was inevitable.

I restocked my quiver and began firing arrows at the tree trunk again. Each thwack of the bowstring on my forearm keeping me focused on the task at hand.

I shot at that tree for hours. Only stopping to help train Madi or go hunting. I couldn't stop or else my mind would try to dive into the unknown which ultimately would lead to worse more destructive nightmares. It was a risk I wasn't willing to take. Not after the last time.

There's something nagging me. Like an invisible hand keeps grabbing at my mind and heart, squeezing them to control me like a puppet.

It's happening again. I thought the occasion last month was the only form of episode I would have but clearly it's not. I don't want to do it, but it helps control me. The pain acts like a reminder that I'm still here. That this is all real.

But I don't want to keep hurting myself if that's the only way I know I'm alive. The scars on my body should be enough. But they're not. And I hate it.

How come I can be so strong but then fall completely apart.

Everything is breaking. I'm literally crumbling to pieces.

I am becoming someone I barely recognize. And why?

Because I can't kill anyone?

Because I sent you away?

Because I'm the only dangerous thing living on the surface of the earth? Is there nothing left for me to chase and do?

Or is it because I feel guilty for leaving the bunker? For leaving you? For living? For being here right now?

I'm tired of not understanding why my demons are getting to me. Now that I finally have down time and could potentially find peace, they swarm and attack like bees.

I'm fighting. I'm fighting because I know that I'm alive still. I won't waste that chance.

Yet I feel this need for blood. Not just animal blood. And the only human blood I have available is mine. I sound like a vampire- which I'm not! But there's this emptiness and I don't know how to fill it.

I'm sorry.

In time, Bell.
Pers

Three small droplets of black blood fell onto the page as I wiped the hunting knife clean. The small line on my left hand followed the path of my scar. Of my reminder. It reminded me where I came from, who I was and who I had become. It reminded me I was still building myself and still alive.

Only instead of red blood now the wound poured out black blood.

I let the blood drip as I leaned my head against the tree trunk. My feet sprawled out along the floor of my tree house. The silence peaceful as I set my journal to the side and allowed my eyes to shut.

_______•*•*•*•_______

"Pers!"

"Persphyni!"

"Where are you?"

"Persphyni!"

Yells filled the night air as I slowly woke from my nap. Surprise and delight overpowered the anger and concern at the yells that had woken me. I actually managed to get a few minutes of rest without losing my mind.

"Persphyni!" The yell was closer now as I slowly rolled up from my laying down position. The black blood on my hand had dried, leaving black stains that looked similar to when ink bleeds. The black streams looked almost like cracks in my hand as I approached the candle light and softly blew it out.

My feet softly reaching the trap door which I opened and started my descent.

"Persphyni!" I hissed at the high pitched shrill as I finally reached the bottom of the tree. My feet landing on the ground with a soft thud before I spun to find the lantern coming in my direction.

I decided I would meet Clarke in the forest away from my tree so she wouldn't find it.

"I'm right hereee!" I sang as I put on a smile and danced around a tree to come face-to-face with a worried blonde.

My shoulder was hit by her fist a moment later.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Was she seriously asking or being rhetorical?

"A lot."

"It was a rhetorical question!" Damnit! 50/50 with a hit and miss.

"Damn. I thought I had it." She hit me again as I laughed.

"This." Hit. "Isn't." Hit. "A laughing matter!" Hit. I brought my left hand up to my right shoulder as she kept hitting me. The area definitely was going to bruise come tomorrow morning.

"Ow! Clarke!" I hissed as I rubbed at the pain. My eyes not catching hers as they widened.

"Pers. What the hell did you do?" Her voice was softer now as she grabbed ahold of my wrist. Her hand pulling mine from my shoulder as she directed the lantern light to see the cut and blood better.

"Oh. Uh. Nothing. Just sliced my hand. It's no big deal." I shrugged and played it off. But clearly she could read me better.

"Fine. Come on. We can talk after you've eaten. And maybe you'll tell me the truth."

50/50 shot and I missed again.