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|One - The 49 - I|
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Everything was white. The lights, the bed, the walls, the floor. I couldn't take it anymore.
The world was just a blur now. A hazy white. I hated it.
Night had become a hidden enemy, I could never see it and I wasn't sure it was there, but when I grew tired all my bad thoughts surfaced.
I don't know how many nights I had been here. Days? weeks? Where was I?
I had been here so long that leg had partially healed, though I still walked with a slight limp. Every cut I had scabbed and healed, yet the bruise on my neck was still very prominent.
I had been here so long, without any human interaction, the only thing I could think about were people. Bellamy, Octavia, Clarke.
They were all I had. They were dead.
|x|
I've had enough of this, whatever it was.
I cried out on frustration and slammed my fist harshly against the wall, leaving thin streaks of red on it.
Tears pooled in my eyes and I sat myself on the floor. I was never going to get out of here. I was going to die here.
I looked around me for anything sharp. There was nothing. Everything was soft, rounded at the edges. I didn't care, if I'm going to die in here, it's not going to be by old age.
I began clawing at my forearms vigorously, until it grew raw and bled, red soaking the white tiles beneath me. I felt the water from my eyes seep into the cuts and burn them. "I cant take it." I whispered again and again, until the room grew into a dark abyss instead of a white haze.
|x|
I woke up again, sadly. This time, it wasn't in that awful, white, empty room.
It was to a much duller room, and my sister's face.
"Please, please tell me that you didn't hurt yourself." She whispered. I kept quite, not truly in the mood to lie, and just looked away. "Bellamy's going to be pissed."
"Bellamy's dead." I deadpanned, looking up at the circular windows above my head.
Clarke was silent for a few moments, all I heard was rustling, and clanking. I looked back over to see that she was handcuffed to the bed. What the hell?
A door opened, and in walked a slightly dark skinned woman, an old man, a girl inn a yellow dress, and three or four guard like men. "Hello Clarke. How's that arm?" The woman asked, then looked to me. "Oh! And you, Grey. We will be giving you a psych evaluation later today."
