WARNINGS: swearing, dirty talk, sexual tension.
I'm fucking done. My life has been a series of punches to the groin and I want freedom. After almost eighteen years of disappointment, I want to be out of here. I'm sitting against the wall because my ass is tired of that lumpy mattress. My hands are cradling my head and I'm replaying my only happy memory over and over. Then again, it's still a terrified one but it's the only one I have.
I'm with my mother. We're sitting in the corner of our room and she's holding me tightly. Her hands are around me, running down my hair at times when it's worse. She shushes me, knowing if the guardsmen heard, they'd rush right in here and my mother can't have that. She hums quietly, nothing recognizable but something soft and sweet. My sweating eventually stops, breath slowing along with my heart rate.
When I have an episode, I think of this. It calms me down somehow. It makes me feel safe to have her arms around me. Well, they aren't really around me. I can only imagine they are.
When I was sixteen, I was definitely not the best child. I'd sneak out late and meet up with guys that were definitely not good children either. I'd drink. My mother tried to get me on the right path again but I wouldn't listen. The guardsmen said she was stealing a book from the library when they caught her. They let me see her before she was floated and she gave me the book. It has a green velvet cover and the pages are fraying at the edges. I haven't had the courage to read it yet.
My head snaps up as I hear the rusty metal of my door moving. It's opening, light filling the fucking cube I live in. A soldier walks in, a soldier that I know. Hansen walks toward me with something shiny in his fist. He isn't much to look at. Brown hair, blue eyes, thin face, long nose, hollow cheeks, lanky. He isn't ugly but he isn't attractive either. I force myself to flirt with him for extra portions on the more...tiring days.
"Are you finally gonna kill me?" I ask, tilting my head to the side.
He frowns. "Cam-"
"No, it's fine. Put me out of my fucking misery," I say, standing and walking closer to him.
His eyebrows raise a bit as he looks down my frame. "Cam-"
"I'm not afraid of death. Death should fear me," I say.
"Jesus, Cami. I'm not here to kill you," he says, shaking his head.
"Then why are you here?" I ask quickly, shifting my stance.
"You're leaving. You're going to the ground."
"What?" is the only thing I'm capable of saying.
"You're going to the ground," he repeats.
"It isn't safe. They said-"
"Well, you're going," he says, twisting the silver thing in his hand.
My eyes drop down to it and I focus harder to make it out. A metal wristband. He has to knock me out. I'm in solitary so he has to knock me out. No way am I letting myself be unconscious around him. Around anyone. I will not allow it. My hand goes to his free one, squeezing tightly.
"Hansen, don't do this-"
"Don't you understand? I have to. They need to know that you aren't a threat," he says, shaking his head.
"Fine, fine," I say quickly, faking a smile. "Just pretend like you sedated me. Carry me out and I won't move a fucking inch." He shakes his head, avoiding my eyes to look at the wall. I reach up to his cheek, pulling his eyes back to me. "Please, Hansen. I won't let you put that thing on me, you know that."
He frowns. "It's not to sedate you. It'll send a signal to the Ark, telling them that you're still alive."
I frown too. "Fine. Put it on." I offer him my wrist and he places the device around my arm, locking it in place. "Good. Now take me out."
"Can I pick you up?" he asks gently.
I nod, shaking my hands to get all the jitters out. He's even more gentle when he picks me up, carrying me with my stomach on his shoulder. I shut my eyes as I start to feel the swaying of his walk. His hand is on the small of my back, fingers shifting every once in a while. He cares for me and I use that against him. I know I shouldn't but it's too late in my life for redemption.
We walk for only a couple minutes before he whispers softly, "Don't open your eyes until I tell you."
Someone must be near. I try not to move, letting him jostle me back and forth. He's slipping me off his shoulder and dropping me into something hard. I let my head loose, hitting it against another something hard. I feel hands near me, buckles clicking and straps tightening around me. There are other metallic noises too. I can't be sure what it is.
"Open 'em."
My eyes flutter open, seeing Hansen in front of me. He smiles softly, grabbing both my hands. "Be brave, Cami."
"Don't be an asshole, H," I say, grinning.
He takes a second, letting go of my hands and taking my shoulders instead. He plants his lips on my forehead and I frown. Feelings aren't permitted with me. Everyone I've ever loved has been destroyed because of me. If someone gets too close, they die. I've tried to protect Hansen by keeping him at arms length but he isn't emotionless. He gets attached too quickly. It breaks my heart that I keep playing with his.
He pulls away, walking off quickly down a ladder in the centre of the room. It is made of metal and shaped as a cylinder. The walls are striped in white and red and most is rusted silver. There are seats lining the walls. Well, some of the walls. The seats are in more of rows or lines. Sitting in them are teenagers like myself, most of them are frowning. Only a few are passed out. A black guy with a large body, a blonde girl who's eyebrows are furrowed even in sleep. All the others are awake. There's a black backpack sitting at my feet. I'm guessing Hansen put it there. My mother's book is sitting in one of the side pockets.
My eyes wander and I see a brown haired girl to my right. She has olive skin and hazel eyes. She looks scared, frustrated, alone. Of course, we're all alone. I turn to my left, finding a guy there. His skin is very pale, cheeks very hollow, hair brown and very greasy, eyes blue/silver/green. There's blood in the corner of his mouth and a cut on his forehead. His head is leaning back into his seat in annoyance before he's looking at me.
"What a sweet sentiment," he says sarcastically.
I roll my eyes. "Piss off."
"Ooh. You got a mouth. I like that. I mean, I would like that if your boyfriend hadn't made me gag."
"Okay. First of all, I won't listen to you think you're a good flirt for however long we're caged in here. Second, he's not my boyfriend," I say, sighing a bit.
"That means you're free then?" the guy asks, tilting his head to the side.
"Not for you," I say quickly.
The girl to my right laughs, head touching the back of her headrest. "Just leave the girl alone, Murphy. Unlike most bimbos, she's immune to your idiocy." Her eyes find mine and she nods. "I'm Octavia."
"Octavia. I'm Camari. You can call me Cam or Cami. Either one, I don't care," I say, shrugging and looking back at Murphy. "Why didn't they sedate you guys?"
"They were teaching us about Earth. Lessons we never listened to," Octavia says.
"This," Murphy says, gesturing to the blood on his face, "was my graduation gift."
"Lucky you," I say, tapping my foot and feeling that dropping in my gut again.
Shit.
"You okay?" Octavia asks me, leaning her head forward.
"Just the normal shit. Don't worry about it," I say, leaning forward. The seatbelts constrict me from moving much. I've begun to sweat and my heart has picked up pace. This is my body's reaction to the revelation that I'll be sent flying through space. I need to move. "Fuck this."
My fingers find the buckles of the seatbelts, undoing them quickly. I stand, shaking out my hands and pacing shortly in front of my seat. My fingers run the length of my hair, attempting to calm myself down.
"Sweetheart, you gotta sit down," Murphy says, frowning.
"Don't be a condescending ass," I say, stopping in front of him. He grins at my actions, eyes falling down my frame as his grin turns to smirk. I roll my eyes, going back to pacing. "I'll sit back down when we take off."
"And you'll be safe because...?" he trails off, eyebrows high.
"No one should worry about me," I say quickly, fanning my face to make some of the sweat dry.
"You're pacing the drop ship that's about to be hurling through space. I think there's enough reason to sit down, Cam-"
"Don't do that," I say, pointing angrily at him.
"Do what?" he asks, letting out a breathy laugh.
"Pretend like you know me. You couldn't even guess the first thing about me so don't act all high and mighty. Don't expect me to praise you like a god for telling me that I'm being an idiot because I know I am. And there's no need to tell me things I already know. So, just stop," I say, shaking out my hands.
He raises his hands in surrender. "Alright. I'll stop."
"Good," I say firmly, stopping just in front of my seat.
I've calmed down a bit but my heart is still beating like crazy. Fuck, this is gonna be embarrassing. My eyes shut as my hands ball into fists, nails digging into my skin and probably drawing blood. I take a deep breath in through the nose and then out through the mouth. I continue, clenching my fists and breathing deeply and testing my balance on the toes of my feet and then the heel. Once my heart has stopped racing, my eyes fly open and I sit back down. I redo my seatbelt and force myself to keep calm.
"What was that?" Murphy asks, frowning.
"That was none of your business," I answer effortlessly.
"Look," he says, leaning closer to me, "if I'm gonna be stuck on the ground with you people for a while, I'd like to know I'm not alone. I can't really get to know you if you never tell me anything about yourself."
"And what about you, huh? Aren't you obliged to tell me your truth?" I ask, frowning.
"That doesn't apply to me," he says quickly.
"Right. The great Murphy has to answer to no one. Do I even get to know your last name?" I ask, eyebrows raised.
He licks his lips, looking away. "My last name is Murphy. My first name is John. Everyone calls me Murphy."
I nod. "John Murphy. Why does that sound familiar?"
"You really don't remember me then, huh?" he says, eyes finding mine again but this time with a frustrated look.
"Oh fuck. Don't tell me I slept with you," I say, frowning deeper somehow.
"Maybe you'll remember this," he says, leaning closer to me. He whispers low so no one else will hear. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard that you'll scream my name loud enough for the guards to hear. Though I think getting arrested is worth a couple minutes of ecstasy inside you."
My fingers dig into the arm rest as a million memories overwhelm me at once. I was sixteen and I think he was too. I was in the mess hall, studying everyone like a fucking creep. He caught my eye and immediately grinned. I remember him leaving but glancing at me the entire time. I took it as a sign to follow. So, I did. He pulled me into a quiet room and told me those words before we had the most mind blowing sex of all time. It was insane how well he read my body and did just as I wanted. He was such a tease too.
"John Murphy," I say again, eyes wide this time.
"Ah. Someone remembers something," he says, still frowning.
I ignore him. "That was...the best sex of my life."
He nods, eyes following my curves. "Yeah. I think I'd have to say the same."
"I can't believe I didn't recognize you," I say quietly, shaking my head.
"Well," he says, leaning back in his seat, "I don't blame you. It was just a one time thing."
The thought of letting that kind of pleasure go is infuriating to me. I can't just forget about what we did. And I could want it to happen again. If we survive, that is.
"Maybe it doesn't have to be," I say quietly.
He turns to look at me, his expression shocked. It quickly shifts to a smirk, eyes travelling down my legs. He moves a bit, taking a deep breath.
"I mean, I've been in solitary for too long and I'd rather spend some time with someone who isn't a mindless soldier," I say, scowling at the ladder.
"Well, shit, honey. It looks like I don't exactly have a choice here, do I?" he asks, grinning at me.
I let myself smile back. "Like you could ever say no to me."
"Probably not, sweetheart."
The room shakes, clanging metal noises filling the space. I grip the arm rests tight, watching as red lights begin to flash. We must be taking off. I feel my stomach drop as white steam starts to flow out of some of the pipes in here.
"Shit," I say quietly, leaning my head back into my chair. "John, say something else."
"Why?" he asks, taking shallow breaths.
"Because I don't want the last thing someone calls me to be sweetheart," I answer, frowning and looking over at him.
"Right," he says, smiling but I can tell that it's forced. "What do you want to hear?"
"Tell me about that day," I say, gulping as the shaking becomes a little more violent.
He smirks, knowing exactly what I mean. "It was a Thursday, I think. I was in the mess hall and I was sitting with some people. I remember looking up and seeing you. You were already staring at me-"
"I don't remember that. I'm sure you had been staring at me first," I say, joking now.
He grins back, shaking his head but ignoring my protest. "I remember getting so fucking turned on by you. I think it was because you bit your lip and it drove me fucking crazy. So, I left, looking at you while I did. Just as I expected, you followed me and I took you into one of those empty rooms that people barely ever use-"
"You can stop there," I say, nodding and shutting my eyes for a second.
"Why bother?" he asks and I open my eyes to look at him. He's smirking and clasping his hands in his lap. "I remember your hands in my hair, I remember your lips on mine, I remember grabbing your ass, I remember being inside you-"
"You can stop talking now," I say, frowning.
"I remember your mouth around my dick," he says, ignoring my warning. "I remember your legs not working when I was done with you."
"You're not done with me," I say quickly, shaking my head. "Now shut up for the next few minutes."
He obeys me as the shaking continues, steam becoming more thick. It suddenly feels hot in here so I attempt to counteract it with my hands fanning my face. My seat is vibrating underneath me. I reach up to run my fingers through my hair. When that doesn't work to calm me down, I latch my nails into John's bicep.
He grins at my actions. "You feel any déjà vu?"
"Shut up."
There's a slamming noise and suddenly, everything stops. The shaking has ceased along with the steam. After I release John, I catch him frowning.
"No machine hum," a guy says.
I stand too quickly, unbuckling my seatbelt as mostly everyone else does too. I shake out my hands, searching the walls for escape. The ladder. I walk to it quickly, bending over to open the hatch. I hear a couple whistles at my actions but I just give everyone the middle finger. Once I've opened the hatch, I climb down the ladder and to a bottom floor. It looks almost identical to the top floor with all the metal. This one has what looks like a huge door with an electronic panel beside it.
There's a guy down here with a soldier uniform on. He has dark brown hair and olive skin like Octavia. He has a couple freckles and he's holding a handgun at his side. He is tall and looks muscular. As people begin to follow me down, I step closer to him, frowning.
"Open the door," I order, gesturing to the panel.
He frowns at me, tapping a few buttons on the keypad as the door starts to open like a drawbridge. I walk past him quickly and down the door, eyes finding all the...green. The trees are tall and the ground is covered in ferns. I never knew the sky was so...blue. I step further, walking onto the dirt. The ground is so soft, the leaves bend under my feet. I can't help but smile, stepping further and crouching in front of a little, yellow flower. There are more whistles and I frown, standing and turning.
"Seriously, you guys are gonna have to keep it in your pants," I say, crossing my arms over my chest.
Most everyone floods out of the drop ship as cheers fly out of their mouths. They're running into the woods, some guys grabbing girls' asses or already looking for a plant to give them a buzz. John steps down the door of the drop ship, stopping in front of me with a smirk on his face. I grip the hem of his pants, pulling him roughly into me.
He grins, eyes falling off mine. "Someone's gonna need to pull you away from me, won't they?"
"You know," I say quietly, moving my face closer to his, "I remember more than you do about that day. Better hope I don't use it against you."
His grin only widens at my threat as he takes in my body. "I'm gonna have my hands full with you, huh?"
"I'm hoping I'll have more than my hands full with you," I say, knotting my fingers into his hair.
He breathes a laugh. "I think I can arrange that."
I go on my tiptoes, hands trailing down to his chest as I lean close to his ear. "Now?"
"If that's what you want," he says, lips trailing lightly along my neck.
My eyes go over his shoulder, seeing the black guy talking to the blonde girl. Clarke, I think is her name. She's a councillor's daughter. The black guy is Wells. His dad is the chancellor. What amazing luck. She looks pissed at him. She stuffs things in a bag while he talks fast at her.
I push John off, walking quickly to the pair of them. "What's going on?"
"I'm going to Mount Weather," Clarke says, standing and pulling her bag over her shoulder. "My mother gave me a map that says that Mount Weather has all the supplies we need for at least a year. It'll take a day to get there so I'm leaving now. Wanna come?"
"Seriously? You're taking her but not me?" Wells asks, gesturing toward me.
I clench my jaw, staring death at him. "Don't talk when you're near me. I don't want my fist to accidentally punch you in the face." I turn back to Clarke. "And thank you for the offer but I'd much rather stay here. A year and a half of celibacy has made me horny as fuck so I'm gonna take a rain check."
"Alright then," Clarke says, nodding and now avoiding my eyes.
I laugh a little, eyes meeting Wells'. "Don't come near me, parent-killer."
I turn and walk toward John who is now leaning against a tree. I place my hands on either side of his head, pressing my body into his. I know exactly how to get what I want.
"Woah," he says, hands moving to my hips to keep at least a little distance between us.
"What's wrong? Don't tell me you've lost your appetite," I say as his hands slip under the hem of my shirt.
"No, of course not," he says, tilting his head to the side and sighing.
He's keeping something from me.
"What's the but?"
He lets out a breath, looking away from my eyes. "People are starting to set up camp-"
"Ugh," I groan, pulling away. "I don't wanna."
"Not that your toddler whining isn't totally turning me on, but we really have to set shit up," he says, shaking his head.
I frown. "And when am I gonna get you alone?"
"Tonight. After everyone has their tents set up and we've made a fire and everything is okay," he says, nodding.
My frown deepens. "And I have to help with this?"
He chuckles. "Yes, Cam."
"Fine."
WORD COUNT: 3616
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