"Me." She stared deeply into Bellamy's eyes, her eyes watering, "You. Any of us. She doesn't remember a damn thing!"
Bellamy's crossed arms fell and became limp at his sides. His eyes fluttered shut and he tilted his head back, sighing through his nose. His Adam's apple rose as he gulped. Clarke didn't do this, he reminded himself, do not get angry at her.
"She has amnesia?"
Bellamy left the tent. Someone called his name, but he ignored them. How could she not remember? He bit his lip, sniffing his nose, blinked repeatedly trying not to cry. How could she not remember?
☢
How many days have I been in here?
Oops! Ang larawang ito ay hindi sumusunod sa aming mga alituntunin sa nilalaman. Upang magpatuloy sa pag-publish, subukan itong alisin o mag-upload ng bago.
I don't know the answer for most things these days. I need to stop asking myself questions, it'll stop the pain. I haven't had any memories. I've waited and waited.
The fan above me is going to make me insane. I'm calling it now, people should bet on my insanity. Isn't that why I'm in here?
There's this pain in the back of my head. An annoying whisper, coming back and forth. I cannot understand what it's saying. But it's there and it's uncomfortable, just like this bed.
A couple hours ago they moved me into a white room with one window. Maybe it was a few weeks ago, I've lost track of time. Paintings covered the walls. Everything was white. Was I not in here when I first entered Mount Weather? Or, have I been here the whole time?
Look, I'm asking myself questions again. I really need to stop.
Food comes twice a day. Once in the morning and once at night. I haven't touched a single pea or a scrambled egg. I don't want their food. I need to get out of here.
I'm so cold.
It's so cold.
My hair is a mess. Knotted, slightly wavy and too long. Too long. I need scissors. They wouldn't give me scissors. They shouldn't give me scissors. And they won't.
I sit, I stare, I watch. The paintings on the wall are beautiful; standing out above everything else. One was of a ocean, what they used to look like. Sandy white beach, deep blues and greens mixed in swirls as waves stopped for a moment in the air to be captured by the artist.
The other was of a forest. It pulled at my heart. When ever I stared at it for too long I cry. I don't understand why. It was a missing puzzle piece, something I couldn't place. Like my brain. Like me. My body was an outline of a puzzle piece, but I was blank. Either erased or about to be written.
I've been in such a haze for the past few days I didn't even realize it. Two people in blue hazmat suits entered the room. One took my arm, the other injected me with a needle. I jumped as I heard the sound of the syringe hitting metal dish.
I woke up. But I was heavy and slow. They still thought I was a danger. The door was open, waiting for me to escape. Taunting me. I gasped as I was lifted off the bed. I locked eyes with one of the people hidden beneath the hazmat, a familiar face.
My eye lids were drooping, I was slowly losing consciousness. Before the two had to place me in a wheelchair that was outside the room I called out for the familiar person.
"X, please don't do this."
She ignored my pleas. I felt myself being placed in the stiff wheelchair, on the right side, a squeak happened every few seconds.
"I have to tell them it isn't safe."
That was the last thing I said before I entered the infirmary and was passed out on one of the beds.
Sorry, another short chapter but I felt like that was a good place to stop. Anyways, Bellamy knows now, oopsies. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, please vote and comment to give me feedback!
