Burned | John Murphy [ON HOLD]

┋┊Three┊┋

Three days past, and Maggie didn't speak another word to Murphy. She only sat and stared at things. Sometimes, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the handcuffs, but it did her no comfort in the confines of the holding room; she only saw a criminal in her gaze.

While she sat in silence, Murphy had tried numerous times to get her to talk to him. For three days, the only responses she gave him were glares and rude hand signals. Despite this, he continued to try to communicate with her because the silence was killing him.

"Hey, Keagan," he spoke, looking over at her. She glared at him, but he continued anyway. "You can't ignore me forever."

Her glare intensified, but he continued. "Like it or not, you're stuck with me."

Maggie thought about replying, saying it was his fault she was locked up, but she didn't. She knew that if she ignored him long enough, he'd leave her alone.

"I understand you're pissed, but you can't change what happened. It's not my fault you were there."

But it's your fault the lighter was in my pocket, asshole, she thought. He read her thoughts by the look in her eyes, and sighed. "I'm not apologizing for the lighter. I just... Your father was there when mine was floated. He pressed the button that ended his goddamn life, and this—you getting locked up—is the perfect revenge for that."

Maggie never knew that Evan had floated Alex Murphy. She knew that as a member of the guard, he had to press the button sometimes, but she never batted an eyelash about the issue before. She never considered that people would blame him for the deaths—deaths he had no say in.

Murphy continued the story, covering his sadness up with rage. "After my mother died, I had to do something. I couldn't just stand by idly and do nothing. I found a mechanic and sold everything for that lighter, then I found the arresting officer's office, and I burnt it down."

He took a few deep breaths, and Maggie wondered why he was sharing the information with him. Was he expecting pity for ruining her life? She balled her hands into fists at the thought of pitying Murphy.

He went on still. "Nobody else was supposed to be there. It was only going to be me, and I'd run away before they caught me... But then you showed up. You were... It was a spontaneous decision, but I had to get my revenge on your father. Having to float his own daughter would be excellent revenge. It was nothing personal."

Nothing personal? Putting her life at risk... getting her floated... destroying her family... How could he claim it wasn't personal after all of that? After everything he and Mbege did to her? Taunts, jeers, fights, but this was nothing personal. She doubted it.

She let out a tiny chuckle at the thought, and Murphy raised an eyebrow. "Something funny to you?" he asked in his usual, dry voice.

"Nothing personal..." she muttered, shaking her head. As much as she didn't want to speak with him, this matter wasn't one she could keep quiet through. "Nothing personal." She began laughing hysterically now, leaving Murphy confused.

"How can you say that?" she asked. "After all of the fights and name calling, you mean to tell me it was all a part of some revenge plot? That's bullshit, Murphy. I've known you since we were six; your father was alive then! This is everything fucking personal, and you know it."

"She speaks at last," he said, remaining emotionless. "I already told you; you weren't a part of the plan."

"But that doesn't make this any less personal, does it?" she asked, pulling on the handcuffs. Her wrists were beginning to bleed. "You're happy I'm here; you're happy you destroyed my future."

"There'll be another hearing when you're eighteen," he told her. "Your fucking future is fine."

"I was found with the lighter, jackass!" she spat. "They think I did it, and it's because of you. I was going to be somebody!"

"You mean you were going to join the Guard and float people. I hardly call that a future."

She snorted. "Like you had better plans."

"I did, but things change."

"You're a coward, Murphy."

"Sure I am," he said sarcastically, the words dripping down his chin like blood.

She pulled against the handcuffs again, trying to break free and punch him in the nose. "You gave up."

"And you should too," he told her. "Pull any harder on those cuffs, and you'll lose your hands. Then what'll you beat me up with."

"I'll still have arms," she informed him, standing up and pulling harder, grunting as she did so.

"Seriously, Keagan, stop. Limbs don't grow back."

She didn't stop, and she felt the skin ripping. Her yells filled the room, causing Murphy to shake his head. "I'm not worth losing your arms over."

His words reached her ears, and she realized he was right. She stopped struggling and leaned against the wall. She hit her head off it, letting out one last groan before turning around and sliding down the the floor. She faced Murphy now, and he saw the tears that brimmed in her eyes.

"There might be nothing left on this Ark for you," she said, "but I hadn't spiraled into a depression because of events I couldn't control."

"Actually, I think you have."