Burned | John Murphy [ON HOLD]

┋┊Four┊┋

Maggie counted the days by the meals that were handed to her through a slot in the wall. Three every day, each one progressively worse. She refused to eat any of the food after the sixth day, and she pushed the food back through the slot, waving a middle finger in the face of whoever had the task of giving it to her.

"You'll starve, Keagan," Murphy told her after she refused her breakfast. "Starving isn't healthy."

"Thanks for your words of wisdom, Murphy," she said, resting her head on the wall. "I had no idea not eating was bad."

"You look dead," he informed her. "Even deader than I feel, and that is nothing to be proud of."

"Why do you care?" she asked. "You brought me here to die."

"It's not my fault—"

"Would it kill you to admit you're wrong?" she asked him. "You're fucking wrong, so just admit it. Admit it, and maybe I'll stop looking at you like your Satan's spawn and stop plotting your death."

"Don't lie, Keagan," he told her. "We both know you want me dead."

"If you shut up, I'll make your last few days on this Ark bearable," she promised.

"The only thing that could make this Ark bearable is the death of Jaha," Murphy said. "Him and his asshole son."

While Maggie understood the laws of the Ark, she never realized until now—until she was a victim of the laws—how unfair they were. She knew Jaha was not to blame for her being in that holding room, but she didn't have anyone else to blame. The Council maybe, but Jaha did have the final say.

Was she blaming Jaha personally? No, she was only using him as a symbol, but other people didn't see him as just a symbol. They saw him as the reason for their grief, the reason their sons and daughters were in lockup, the reason they were forced into the hierarchy of the Ark, the reason their parents were dead...

She felt for Murphy. She didn't want to, but she couldn't help it. It appeared she carried a heart of stone, but underneath her terrifying exterior was a girl with a big heart. She wasn't about to wrap Murphy in a warm embrace—she didn't want to, and she was cuffed in place—but she now truly felt his pain. However, she wasn't going to agree with him; he ruined her life, and she wasn't ever going to forget it.

"You can't blame Jaha for your mistakes," she told him bitterly. Looking down at the dried cuts on her wrists, she began adjusting the handcuffs so they weren't reopening the wounds. She had stopped fighting, but she would never accept this fate.

"Who else am I to blame?" he asked. "I tried blaming myself, and I lit the Ark on fire. I tried blaming my mother, and she died shortly after. I tried blaming my father, but then I circle back to blaming myself."

"So you blame the chancellor?" she asked, curious to hear his response.

"The chancellor makes the rules, and the rules killed my family," he explained. "I don't have to explain myself to you, Keagan."

"You've got something better to do?" she asked.

"I could bash my head into the wall until I die," he suggested.

"I won't stop you."

Murphy laughed dryly. "The only reason I haven't is because my life pains you, doesn't it?"

"Just the thought of it makes me want to float myself," she told him. "I could be with Sam right now, training to become a member of the guard so I'd have an excuse to float you."

"You'll never be a member of the guard now," he said. "Criminals don't get those jobs."

"I'm not a criminal," she said harshly. "And you're going to tell the judge just that."