DON'T LET ME GO ► BELLAMY BLAKE

19

"I'm only trying to protect you," he mumbled, suddenly finding the ground more interesting to look at.

"I'm not the one that needs protecting." Tears cascaded down her cheeks as a thought struck her mind. "I'm the one that needs protecting from. I've killed so many people and if we were to keep at this, I would lose control and probably kill you."

"No," Bellamy rushed over to her and tried grabbing her hand, only to be sent reeling back against the wall. "Loxy, you're not a monster!"

"No. I am. And I must embrace what I've become," she muttered before turning around to face Miles again. Her eyes darkened as she placed her hands on his warm neck. His pulse was faint, like a baby bird desperately trying to soar.

She twisted his neck, breaking it and instantly feeling the distant beating stop. The sound of Bellamy's breathing halted, making her turn to stare at him. "Fourteen," she hissed.

To anyone, it may have sounded like she was just blurting out numbers, but Bellamy knew exactly what it meant. Fourteen people.

Fourteen people she had killed.

~

Guilt rained down on her like hellfire as she reached the deep undergrowth. She had killed Miles, and for what? To prove a point? Telling Clarke that her best friend killed an innocent boy who could've been saved is a perfect welcoming card for when she returns.

All she could see was his face in her mind. His voice ringing in her ears. He just wanted to get closer to her, and she shut him out without hesitation. And she was the one to shove him into the arms of death. "I'm sorry..." she whispered, her voice croaking under the pain.

She fell into a troubled sleep, her back against a tree and her head facing an unknown forest. One filled with the blood of others and murderous Grounders.

Blinding white light greeted Loxy's gaze as she opened her eyes slowly. Her entire body was numb, the only thing she could feel was her own hot tears spilling down her face.

"You did good today," Abby's sophisticated voice was a distant mumble in her ears. "I'll walk you back to your cell."

"Can I at least go walk for a bit?" She pleaded, wincing at the feeling of the straps scratching her skin. "I don't wanna go back there yet." Her own, petrified thirteen year old voice was speaking.

Abby gave her a reluctant look before blinking and nodding. "How about I introduce you to someone today?"

"A person?" She breathed, sitting up at incredibly slow speed. "Who?"

"Her name is Clarke," she responded, fiddling with her tablet for a few quick moments. "She's my daughter."

"Clarke? That's a pretty name," she commented slowly, bewildered at the fact that Abby had a daughter.

"She's only eleven but, I'm sure she and Wells would welcome you into their pack," her faint smile could be seen behind her chestnut locks of hair.

"Wells? You mean—"

"Chancellor of Earth," a strikingly familiar voice cut her off.