CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
( whenever you're ready )
SEPT 27, 2149
DAY FIFTEEN ON THE GROUND
DEMONS ━━━
IMAGINE DRAGONS
" your eyes they shine so bright,
i wanna save that light. "
DAKOTA DIDN'T UNDERSTAND HOW THIS WAS POSSIBLE, YET HERE SHE WAS; GLANCING AROUND the familiar flat she'd called home her whole life.
She knew the place like the back of her hand. The gray, lackluster walls and floors were decorated with the things that made the space breathe life to her and her mother. The faded blue, bohemian rug in their compact living room, the childish drawings from kindergarten by her, Monty, and Jasper hanging up. The lamp whose cream-colored shade Dakota had scribbled a green four leaf clover on when she was little, photographs of their two-person family proudly displayed around the place; her mom's neatly folded pink scrubs sitting on the kitchen counter for when she wasn't working.
Everything around her was untouched, frozen perfectly in time just as she'd always known it. But what was usually her and her mom's sacred little kingdom did not bring her any comfort tonight. She wasn't supposed to be here. She was supposed to be on earth. That was her home now.
"Bellamy?" she called softly, voice coming out so frightened and feeble. There was no response. No movement. No nothing. She peered cautiously around with large, nervous eyes as her tense body began to shake.
"Bellamy! Clarke?" she summoned louder, a panicky feeling rising in her chest. What if it was a dream? What if she was never on earth to begin with? What if the hundred weren't ever in her lives and she was still adrift in outer space?
She took an urgent step forward, ready to search the whole ship in order to find the two co-leaders she had just been with. However, her foot slid against the unexpectedly sodden floor; Dakota's arms flying in front of her to catch herself as she plummeted to the ground. Her hands did no good at their assigned job, slipping out from underneath her the second they hit the sopping floor; the girl huffing as her chin made harsh contact with the hard tile, now sprawled out on her stomach. She groaned quietly, slowly pushing herself up and resting on her knees; wondering why the floor was so soaking wet it had caused her to fall. When she opened her eyes again and looked down, she immediately forgot all about Bellamy and Clarke. She had slipped against and fallen into a prodigious puddle of blood.
With eyes wider than the sun, her body went stiff; her jaw hanging open and throat closing mercilessly to no longer accept air. Holding her blood-sullied arms out before her, she glanced down at herself in sheer horror; her frontside now absolutely drenched in the crimson liquid. She instantaneously recognized the once pale lavender-colored dress she had on, one that would be forever destroyed with dark blood and hastily discarded to rid herself of any evidence. She had been wearing this exact outfit that night; her vision went black for a split second as it occurred to her. This was that night.
Her body was trembling uncontrollably as she let out frantic whimpers and empty, violent gasps for air; scrambling frenziedly to her feet and clutching onto the kitchen counter tops to avoid slipping again. Her chest was heaving erratically up and down, unable to get any oxygen into her impeded and impossibly tightened lungs. Her thoughts were instantly so scattered she couldn't think straight, couldn't see straight; panic overriding any sense of logic or cognition as she stumbled around her apartment.
"Dakota!" a distant, echoey voice rang out; her favorite voice to hear. One she thought she'd never get to hear again. Her head snapped over toward the door leading to the Farm Station corridor she'd walked a million times before.
"Mom?! Mom!!" she cried out, rushing to the metal door and pushing it open at once; flying out into the hallway in terror of the trail of blood she was leaving behind. Everything she touched turned red.
She faltered as she exited, her humongous eyes darting frenetically around in utter confusion; the layout was different. This is never what the world outside her home had looked like before.
"Dakota!"
She spun around, and swore that her heart stopped beating at what she saw. At the end of the long, drab hallway that usually led to a simple turn to the next section, was the airlock chamber. The place where citizens of the Ark went to be brutally sucked into space and killed for whatever 'crimes' they had committed. Inside of it was her mother, and a man whose face she knew by heart; who haunted her with every breath she took. Mason Walsh.
"MOM!" her stentorian scream tore through the corridor, the girl taking off down the seemingly endless hallway; cerise footprints staining the floor behind her.
She'd never run faster in her life, the sound of her berserk and rapid gasps for air reverberated in the desolate hallway. The second she reached the horrific scene, she was slamming her arms against the clear glass diving them; smearing red against the heavy, automatic door.
"Mom! Mom, mom!" she screeched unendingly, pounding her fists frantically against the wretched barrier keeping them separate.
"Initiating airlock release in 60 seconds." a perky, automated voice spoke from over the speakers; her eyes widening even further as her heart hammered against her ribcage.
"No, no, no!! No, not again! I won't let it happen!"
Her mom nor Mason appeared concerned, and while Dakota was continuously hurtling her body into the door, they did absolutely nothing to try and free themselves. They stood with their arms at their sides and light smiles on their calm, eerily pleasant features.
"It's alright, Koda Bear." Lowis's unnaturally tranquil- mildly distorted- voice informed her; a shiver running down the 18 year old's spine at the nickname she had grown up on. Not having heard it since her mother's passing.
"NO, no it's not alright!!" Dakota shrieked raucously, gritting her teeth in great effort as she used all her might to try and pry the door open with her fingers.
"Don't you want the truth to die with us?"
At this she froze helplessly, Mason's warped voice like a dagger to the heart; the petrified girl slowly looking over to the other face behind the glass. He was bleeding unceasingly from the fatal tear in his skull, the one that had cost him his life; unsure of how he was alive in front of her when he had been killed moments ago. She could barely see him clearly from her poor vision, obscured by the hot tears swirling in her panicked irises. She stared at him for a long moment in horror, the twisted grin on his features scarier than anything she'd ever seen in her time on earth; if that had even been real. Soon she shook her head, breaking out of the trance; she didn't have time for this.
"No! I want both of you to live!" she declared, frantically pressing the button that was typically used to open the door; but right now, no matter how much she hit it, it wasn't functioning.
"Why isn't this WORKING!?!" she boomed, smashing her fist into the large, black knob; pain ricocheting throughout her knuckles.
"SOMEBODY HELP! HELP US!"
"Initiating airlock release in 30 seconds."
"NO!" she backed up, kicking harshly at the unmoving mass as if that would actually work; grunting loudly each time she drove her foot into the giant door, alternating legs back and forth.
"Dakota, you're not going to open it." Lowis calmly shook her head.
"Yes I am! Don't say that!"
"Dakota-"
"I am not letting this happen again! I-I-I can't, you don't... you don't deserve to die." she choked out, slipping into sobs. She gave up on the kicking method, leaning her body into the door and placing a bloody palm against the glass; generous amounts of tears gushing down her face as her mother pressed her hand directly on the other side. The thick boundary was the only thing keeping them from touching.
"Let me take your place." she mewled desperately, letting her forehead fall against the bloodied glass.
"Initiating airlock release in 10 seconds."
"No! NO! Please, please mom I can't lose you again! I'm begging you, don't go! PLEASE!" she wailed manically with violent, rugged gasps for air; hitting desperately at the blockade.
"This must be hard for you, since it's you who should be floated." Mason tilted his head to the side darkly, as if amused by Dakota's overwhelming pain and grief.
"YES, yes! Let me get floated! Please, let me take your places! Stay here for Fallon!" she sobbed and nodded fervently, eyes broken and wild as she cried.
"Initiating airlock release in 5 seconds."
"NO, NO! I-I'LL DO ANYTHING! PLEASE!" Dakota grew more frantic as the countdown closed in on them; the final, last-ditch twinges of hope crashing down in misery.
"Dakota, look at me."
She sobbed desolately, curling her fingers gut-wrenchingly as if trying to grasp onto Lowis's hand; glancing up to her as instructed as her bottom lip trembled uncontrollably. The warm look that was always in her mother's shimmering irises suddenly disappeared, turning cold and heartless at once as a scowl formed on her lips. It startled Dakota greatly as the devilish air crossed her face, her robotic-sounding voice suddenly sinister.
"The truth may die with us, but you'll know what you did forever. You'll know how you killed us both."
And with that, the back door flew open with a loud buzz, and the bodies of Mason Walsh and Lowis Thompson went catapulting ruthlessly into space.
"NO! NO, MOM!" her jarring, grating howl shattered the night; surely piercing the heart of every living being on the Ark.
"No, it's my fault! Mom!" she sobbed hysterically, giving into the enormity of her grief and guilt as she squished her face against the glass; still pounding with her bloody fists against the door as she watched their corpses float further and further away and tumble through the cosmos.
"I'm so sorry."
She bawled in sheer horror, her soul cracking all over again as the severe anguish suffocated her unforgivingly.
"M-"
And then, something unexpected happened. Half of her wish came true when the door all her weight was leaned defeatedly into suddenly shot open; sending Dakota blasting abruptly into outer space.
She blinked, time seeming to slow. It was different than she imagined it. Her oxygen was immediately cut off as she would've anticipated for someone being floated, but it didn't hurt like she always pictured it would, and the galaxy felt surprisingly cold. Her body was frigid at once, as if dunked into an infinity of ice bath. She swam weightlessly through the stars in utter lack of gravity, a strange sense of quietude rushing over her. Moving in a dreamlike hypnosis through the intergalactic heavens, she observed the planet swirling with white, blue, and green positioned directly below her; the dazzling moon and sun just above. She smiled as she ran her hand through a beaming star, white with radiance; feeling like a cold pocket of air splayed across the cosmos.
Wishing to get a clear view of the Ark in its entirety- like one Finn might've had during his illegal spacewalk- she swiveled in the atmosphere; the smile vanishing from her features when the great hunk of metal was no where to be found. Where had it gone? She turned back around, still powerlessly adrift; the stars were gone too. The moon, the sun, and the earth; Mason and her mother. She couldn't even see her hands in front of her. All signs of life and beauty were gone, and she was enveloped in black nothingness. Her involuntary, extravehicular journey was no longer fun or peaceful; Dakota suddenly aware that she still couldn't breathe, and that her lungs were beginning to burn and claw desperately for oxygen. But there was no Ark to retreat to.
There was no nothing.
She thrashed desperately around in utter disorientation and panic, sorrow still constricting her heart as it pounded in her own two ears. It wasn't until she tried to scream into the pitch black void she was trapped in that she realized where she actually was; bubbles escaping in front of her mouth. She wasn't on a spacewalk; she was underwater.
Without a second thought, she propelled herself upwards and furiously kicked her legs to reach the top; though she was so disoriented and her sense of direction had been utterly slashed, so she truthfully had no way of knowing if she was actually swimming towards oxygen. All she knew is that if she was heading downwards or sideways, she was going to die. Thankfully, she chose wisely, and was soon breaching the surface; gasping for air.
Frantically, her head whipped around as she tried to tread the frigid water that was up to her chin; jerking her frozen limbs around as she flailed frenziedly. Her frightened and alarmed eyes darted about as she took in the familiar scenery of the bygone relics surrounding her; Dakota having somehow ended up in the dark lake between the ruins.
She had no way of knowing how long she'd been down there, believing that the murky pond was outer space. Hurriedly, she paddled poorly over to the shore as best as she could; wheezing and coughing violently as she hoisted her soaking wet body back onto the dead grass. With a groan, she flopped onto her back in exhaustion; staring up at the actual stars as she caught her breath. It was night now, and she had no clue how long it'd been since she'd left Clarke in the depot and futilely gone after Bellamy.
She shot up; Bellamy and Clarke.
Clambering difficultly to her numb legs, she shrugged off her saturated coat; the heavy, water-laden clothing article falling to the ground. It was only weighing her down, so she ditched it unhesitatingly; needing desperately to go find the two leaders. She didn't have time to process the traumatizing hallucination she'd just been forced to live through; knowing Bellamy and Clarke could be in a similar state of dangerous delirium. Her's had led her into a lake in wintry weather conditions when she couldn't swim; aiding in the act of her almost drowning. What else could it do?
"Put it down, Dax."
Her head snapped to the forest in the direction of which Clarke's command had come. Her statement confused Dakota. Dax was one of the delinquents, and he had most certainly not come with them on what was intended to be a simple day trip. Was this still a figment of her imagination running wild? Second guessing the legitimacy of everything around her, and unaware of what was truly reality or not, she scampered stealthily over to the noise; remaining carefully hidden in the tree line.
Her eyes widened immediately upon the scene she was met with, her lips parting in shock and instant worry. Bellamy was lying on his back, encased in sweat despite the cold with his hand held oddly up in front of him; bewildered eyes glancing around in confusion. Dax was indeed present, standing in front of the demolished-looking Blake boy on the ground with one of the large guns they had found in the underground depository aimed at Clarke; the blonde aiming one right back at him.
"You should've stayed down there, Clarke." the tall boy spoke, freakishly calm and unbothered for someone who looked like he was about to murder two people.
Dakota didn't stick around to hear what else was said. Instead, a rush of determination and a flash of anger washed over her and she sprinted for the depot; flying down the stairs. She had just brutally watched her mother die all over again, unable to do anything; unable to open the airlock chamber and save her innocent life. But right now, in this new, real scenario, she wasn't powerless anymore. There was no hallucination of a glass wall separating her from protecting Bellamy and Clarke; she could actually do something about it this time. And so, Dakota soon found herself with a rifle in her arms.
She was not letting anything happen to them.
She hared back up the wide steps, gripping tightly onto the metal of the sleek gun and positioning it against her shoulder the way she'd watched Bellamy and Clarke do earlier. Everything about bearing the weapon felt wrong to her; utterly foreign in her hold and nearly repulsive. But she stayed the course, hoping her impulsivity wouldn't forsake her. Silently, she returned to her secret site in the brush; her focused eyes surveying that everyone was in the same spots that they were when she had left.
"Your choice." Dax voiced, Dakota swiftly emerging from the tree line; the deadly weapon targeted onto the delinquent as her eyes trained solely on him.
"Drop it. Now." she warned, everyone's heads whipping over to her at the sound of her low voice; her smooth entrance having been entirely noiseless.
Bellamy and Clarke didn't know what was more surprising. The fact that she had a gun aimed and ready to fire at Dax, or the fact that she hadn't said please when asking him to surrender his. The leaders exchanged a quick, baffled look before returning their attention to the dire situation.
Dax- though mostly unwavering in his collectedness- was evidently perplexed on what to do. Bellamy was lying behind him, Dakota zeroing in on his side and Clarke at his front. He was being closed in by the trio, and he was unsure who he should point his weapon at. Upon her arrival, he swung it towards the Thompson girl; a perfect shot at her head presenting itself. Dakota would be lying if she said she was fearless when staring down the barrel of a gun, a nervous gulp forcing its way down her tight throat.
"You're outnumbered, Dax." Clarke cautioned, his firearm moving speedily back over to her.
"Just put the gun down."
"Sorry, no can do." he shook his head, the blonde girl pressing the trigger; prepared to end a life right here, right now. But nothing happened, everyone freezing for a split second; the bullets were once again duds. Her eyes widened in alarm, now utterly defenseless. Dax's gun immediately whipped back over to Dakota, all eyes instantly glued on her; she had to do it.
It wasn't until then that it registered with her the weight of what she was doing, adrenaline instantaneously vanishing at the horrifying realization. Dakota was unsure if her teeth were chattering so uncontrollably because she was freezing from her spacewalk in the lake, or if it was because her muscles had locked up in sheer terror; her body shaking so violently she couldn't keep the weapon still in her arms.
"Dax, no one has to get hurt. Please. W-we can figure something out."
He merely shook his head with a slight chuckle.
"You're not gonna shoot me, Dakota."
"Wanna bet?" she choked out through gritted teeth, trying desperately to sound brave and threatening; though she knew the only thing detectable in her voice was fear.
Her jaw was clenched as she attempted to steady herself with no luck; she couldn't even feel anything in her quavering, benumbed hands. All she wanted was for Dax to submit and for everyone to walk away from this alive; but that's not what the looks of the ghastly situation were indicating.
Bellamy was watching wide-eyed from his spot in the dirt. He and Clarke were both defenseless, and Dakota had the clear upper hand; even with how furiously she was trembling. Their best option of survival was to wait and let someone who'd never picked up a gun before now take the shot. But just as he had told her a few days ago, she had a better heart than anyone else inside the camp's walls, and he found himself unwilling to comprise that about her. He couldn't let the one person with truly intact humanity make the kill.
So with a bellow, he jumped to his feet and charged at Dax, tackling him angrily to the ground as the few loaded shots from his gun fired helplessly into the air surrounding them; Dakota shooting once at their enemy and missing by a mile.
"No!"
He only got two measly punches in before the blonde boy sent his strong fist upwards into his jaw, rendering Bellamy on the ground against his back. As Clarke frantically tried to reload her gun behind a mossy tree, Dax straddled the curly-haired Blake; an unrelenting parade of punches driving into his face.
A flicker of hope arose in Dakota. Maybe she could knock him out with the butt of her gun and they could drag him back to camp, sort things out safely there. Her quixotic idea was quickly dashed the second she even ran his way, the boy effortlessly pushing the gun at her all while it was still in her own grip; jabbing it harshly into her stomach. She immediately collapsed onto the dirt with a breathless wheeze; that backfired.
Dax seemed to take her own plan from her, unhesitatingly seizing the firearm and driving it into Bellamy's face; the boy's head helplessly hitting the ground, throwing him into a slight daze. Dakota was desperately trying to get back to her feet from the rough blow she had endured, cradling her stomach in pain.
"Get the hell away from them!" Clarke shouted, racing towards her friends only to be punched ruthlessly in the gut; grunting as the impact took her off her feet.
No one had time to do or say anything else before Bellamy had lodged one of the bronze bullets into Dax's neck; the panicked chaos of the moment evaporating at once. Dakota froze as it perforated his jugular, all three of them watching in horror as he stumbled unsteadily backward. His enlarged eyes remained locked onto Bellamy's bewildered ones as he gurgled on his own blood, the dark liquid trickling out of his mouth and down his chin; gushing out of his neck. He soon sunk to the dirt, seeming to shrink away before his body went limp and he succumbed to death.
Dakota threw a hand over her mouth to keep from gagging, tearing her eyes- bloodshot from being opened in the filthy lake- away from the gruesome vision. A swell of dizziness rolled over her body, soon disappearing when she kept her gaze on the trees long enough. Grunts and groans of wrestling and the shots of guns had been replaced with their mere wheezes and rasps, Clarke clutching onto her stomach as she drug herself over to rest against the trunk of a tree.
"Bellamy." Dakota puffed, glancing over at him propped on his elbows as she clambered to her feet with a wince.
She moved to help him up, but stopped herself with a grimace at the blood on his face. He seemed to notice what had bothered her, harshly wiping the sleeve of his coat against his oozing cuts; rubbing enough of it away for her satisfaction. The two staggered over to Clarke, Bellamy placing a hand on the blonde's knee momentarily as he collapsed in exhaustion against the tree; Dakota plopping down on the other side of him, letting her head fall against the bark with a hefty sigh.
"You're okay." Clarke breathed, Dakota pushing her soaking wet- now dirt covered- hair behind her ears as she tried to suppress her vigorous shivers.
"No, I'm not." Bellamy denied shakily, eyes wide in horror.
Dakota's gaze shot over to his beaten face beside her, never having heard such vulnerability coming from him. The utterly devastated air upon his features painted a clear picture of his battered, aching heart whose walls had come crumbling arrantly down; Bellamy's desolation forcing him to give up his usual shield of resilience he so heavily relied on. He suddenly looked so broken; so overwhelmed in grief and guilt.
"My mother-" his voice cracked, a self-loathing thick in his strained tone as he audibly struggled to get the words out.
"If she knew what I've done... who I am... she raised me to be better. To be good."
Dakota's heart wrenched in her chest. She detested seeing anyone in pain, but no one ever talked about just how hard it was to watch the most resolute person fragment into vanquished pieces. When anguish came for those who were usually so seemingly unbothered, it hurt more than watching those who never pretended to be okay in the first place.
"Bellamy-" Clarke tried to interject, the girls' features furrowed in woe.
"And all I do is hurt people. I'm a monster." he determined with a sniffle, a single tear escaping from his sorrowful eyes.
"Hey, listen to me. You are not a monster." Dakota firmly, but tenderly assured him; scooting slightly in the dirt to face him better. He shook his head in self-disgust and ardent disagreement, not daring to look at either of them in the midst of his overwhelming shame.
"No, you're not." she declared again, unwavering and completely genuine; even though her teeth were still chattering incessantly.
"Your mom would be proud of you and everything you've given up just to make Octavia's life better. Everything you've done on the ground for the hundred."
"You saved our lives today too." Clarke added.
"And you may be a total ass half the time, but- I need you." the blonde earnestly told him; truthfully terrified at the idea of having to run camp without her co-leader.
"We all need you. None of us would've survived this place if it wasn't for you. You want forgiveness? Fine, I'll give it to you. You're forgiven, okay? But you can't run, Bellamy. You have to come back with us. You have to face it."
"Like you faced your mom?" he questioned weakly, his voice still unsteady as another warm tear traveled down his cut up cheek. Clarke gave a dry, humorless chuckle as she glanced away for a moment; swallowing before speaking honestly again.
"You're right. I don't wanna face my mom. I don't wanna face any of it. All I think about everyday is how we're gonna keep everyone alive, but we don't have a choice."
Dakota tilted her head in sympathy at the clear stress in her unsettled tone; there was so much on their shoulders with the amount of responsibility they assumed with their jobs. Bellamy sniffled again, shaking his head and flashing a sour, rueful smile of pain.
"Jaha will kill me when he comes down."
"I told you, I'm not gonna let that happen." Dakota repeated insistently, Bellamy only then looking her way.
And because of her ability to make you see the good, he suddenly believed her words as he stared into her sable irises; so pure and gentle that it almost seemed to rub off on him for a moment in time, talking him down without ever uttering a word. There was something about staring into Dakota Thompson's ebony eyes that could fill you with a sense of calm amongst unimaginable chaos.
However, her natural serenity-inducing stare wasn't the only thing that convinced him he'd be okay. The ultimate peacemaker, anti-weaponist had wielded an assault rifle tonight when he and Clarke's lives had been put in danger. She had pulled a knife out in the cave when the grounder had tried to kill him. Maybe she was equipped to do something of the sort, to protect others at all costs. Maybe she really wouldn't let anything happen to him.
"We'll figure something out." Clarke vowed.
"I promise." the Thompson girl affixed softly.
"Can we figure it out later?" he requested exhaustedly, letting his head fall back against the tree; glancing up at the stars through his tear-eclipsed vision.
"Whenever you're ready." the Griffin girl sighed, positioning herself the same way against the wide trunk.
A few moments passed before Bellamy felt a gentle tap at his knuckles, looking down at his subconsciously clenched fists; so tight he was cutting off his own blood flow. Glancing back up, Dakota had tilted her head slightly to the side with a small, knowing smile; as if silently telling him to relax. When he did, she was quick to slip her hand into his, intertwining their fingers. She stroked his skin with her thumb in solace, attempting to soothe his soul stretched so thin. He was startled by the tingles and shivers that shot up his arm, somehow evoking a stronger feeling of intimacy with the simple action than when he had slept with any of the girls so far on the ground. Only until their hands were touching did he realize how she felt like ice; just now seeming to actually tune in to her involuntary shivering.
"Why are you soaking wet?" he mumbled, gaining Clarke's attention too.
"Oh, just tried to drown myself in the lake during my hallucination." she mentioned with mock casualty, though after all that had just concurred, almost dying in the pond had become the least of her concerns.
Clarke and Bellamy shared a look, and soon the two leaders found themselves doing something unimaginable in the midst of their miserable circumstances; they laughed. Dakota immediately joined in with them, the three's inappropriate-timed chortles echoing in the frigid, pitch black night. They'd cried, they'd screamed, they'd fought, they'd accidentally gotten high off jobi nuts, and now all that was left to do was laugh. Laugh in spite of it all; laugh even though it hurt.
"Alright, let's get Dimples back to camp before she ruins what was a lovely day trip by dying of hypothermia." Bellamy grunted as he managed to his feet, the dark-haired girl emitting childlike giggles as he pulled her up from the ground; soon helping the blonde up too.
"Thanks." Dakota smiled sheepishly when he shrugged off his coat, laying it over her shoulders; the trembling girl hurriedly jamming her numb arms into the over-sized sleeves, the jacket practically swallowing her whole. His eyes lingered on her for a moment in his coat, finding a fondness tugging up the corners of his lips at how incredibly tiny it made her seem.
Dakota's smile vanished when she caught sight of Dax's corpse, her heart growing solemn once again; she felt largely responsible for his death. She tried her best to rid her mind of it for right now, focusing on the future instead.
Bellamy frankly had no clue how he was going to get Jaha to pardon him after what he'd done, but with the two determined girls discussing possible plans and ways to achieve the goal all the way back to camp, he had felt suddenly certain they could.
A/N!
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OKAY, THAT WAS ALOT, I KNOW!
Posted on the weekend for the loml voidingstqrs 😘😉
What do you think Lowis meant when she said you killed us both? Do you think something strange happened, or that Dakota literally murdered Mason & her mom?
Bye Dax👋❤️
Have a good day/night lovies!! <3
word count 5,226