Persphyni: I am Determined

34

I grasped my chest as I sat up. My safety rope catching me and pulling me back towards the tree as I nearly fell off the side of my treehouse balcony. My blankets stirred and hung over the railing before I pull them up in a panic.

I knew falling asleep under the full moon was a bad idea.

I still felt my body swaying as I regained control over my breathing. The phantom embrace lingering as my mind played tricks.

I rolled my blankets and carried my pillows back into the treehouse where I gently laid my journal down on my handmade stool. My forearms gently resting on my windowless windowsill.

I stare out into the morning as the sun drifts higher into the sky. The soft chittering of birds accompanies the light rushing water of the falls nearby. The small river of water rushes off the large cliff and down into the valley below where it joins up with another riverbed before flowing down another waterfall into the pond then out into the other creeks.

The soft rising colors the sun brought painted the morning sky. We'd be okay. I'll be okay. Yeah. I've made it this far. I can make it for a few more.

_______•*•*•*•_______

I knocked rapidly at the wooden door of the small cottage Clarke had made her home these last few years. Her voice came from behind the wood as she gave me permission to enter.

"Clarke!" The blonde whipped her head around as I burst through the door. Her hands freezing around the shirt she was folding. "I want you to give me a tattoo."

She blinked about four times, clearly digesting the information I had just presented her.

"I'm sorry?" I laughed at her confusion.

"Would you please help me and give me a tattoo. I can roughly draw the design and you can perfect it. I really need this." At the end of my sentence my voice wavered a little. I needed something and nothing had worked in the past.

Clarke and I had found the kit in another cottage the first year here. Ink already made and several different needles would fit into the handmade gun. No it wasn't like an actual gun, but the handheld device looked simple to use.

"Are you sure?" Clarke asked as she set the laundry down. "You know once we do this, you can't undo it." I smiled.

"Yes. I'm sure. Besides. There's a lot of things I've done that can't be undone. What's one more permanent thing." Clarke sighed before walking towards a drawer where she pulled out a paper and a graphite stick.

"Show me what you want."

_______•*•*•*•_______

I sat back in a chair with my head back and eyes closed. My mind drifted to different things as Clarke imprinted the design on my arm forever. I asked her to do it on my left for the effect of the ink being like my new blood had risen to the surface to take shape.

Because my design had several different components I would have to wait a long time before I could engage in physical activity. But I think that may be a good thing. Maybe by taking a step back I'd be able to reset and work on other things. I'd still be able to teach Madi but I won't have the ability to actually fight with her which would give me the ability to make a plan for what we need to work on. Additionally, I can help more around camp versus being the only hunter. Which would give the other two a chance to develop more survival skills.

Each sharp sting of the needle sent me further into my mind as I expelled the pain. I tested my trust I had with Clarke today. Fully letting her have control as I sat in silence and patience.

"Okay. I'm almost done." She paused as she wiped further down my arm with a sterile cloth. "With the first part." I smiled and held back a chuckle.

"You're fine. Take your time. Madi, can you bring us some water and fruit. Please. I'd prefer neither of us pass out." Madi giggled and nodded her head as she walked out of the cabin. I heard the door close and looked down to face Clarke.

"We just have to keep hoping. When they're able to, they'll come. But for now, let's stay present for Madi." Clarke nodded before warning me she was starting the next component.

Yesterday hit both of us hard. And I knew it was affecting Clarke worse when this morning at breakfast she wasn't talking. I think having a moment to focus our energy on something else would be good.

Clarke needed a creative outlet. I wanted a tattoo. And all that comes with it.

Memories. Silence. Pain. Beauty.

_______•*•*•*•_______

When Clarke was done, the sun had begun to set and my ass was sore from the chair. My arm was tingling but I couldn't feel the pain anymore. The numbness had taken over and I was okay with it.

While I stared into the mirror, Clarke had left to go and make two plates of whatever Madi had made. We let her make dinner and I don't know if it was a good choice yet or not.

I looked at the new sleeve I had acquired. A permanent design I had already fallen in love with. My tattoo told a story. My story.

There were three main components. A moon. A star compass without labels. And a large flower.

On the top at my shoulder was a crescent moon that sat atop three thin ragged claw marks. But the moon was alone. By itself. Locked in its section of my arm.

Following down the arm sat the large star point of a compass without labels or an outline circling it on my bicep.

Then down further towards the inside of my forearm sat a large peony flower with extra leaves and petals that curled around the skin completely taking over the inside of my forearm and around the sides.

While those three components were the main pieces, in between each sat tribal lines and elegant swirls. Around the compass there was a small flock of black songbirds that traveled up towards the moon. And below the flower there was a shaded butterfly that laid flat on the inside of my wrist. The bottom of its wings hovered over the small mark of the coalition. I wanted to keep it to show what I had been apart of. And I didn't want the butterfly to cover a huge area of my wrist.

The shading for all of the tattoo was beautiful. Each main components and accessories looked like a professional from before the first Praimfaya had done it. And the tribal lines and elegant swirls looked like those of a grounder. Which was exactly what I was going for.

This tattoo was a reminder. A way for me to finally let go of the past by putting it all out there. Yes, I'd still remember it. But that was the point.

The tattoo was proof of where I came from and what I had done and where I was now. A reminder that I lived. That I did so much and persevered through all odds.

And that's why, hidden inside the tribal marks are small words. Very small words.

From one to a hundred.

Protector and Guide

Remember and Grow

And at the very bottom, hidden in the wings of the butterfly sat the last final message for myself. The words surrounded by broken chains.

Forever Fly

Meaning, I shall forever be free. No matter what I have to do.