"I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be." – Charles Dickinson
I always wished for quiet on the Ark, the constant rattling of metal on metal left a dull ache in the back of my head. It hails in comparison to the pain scattered across
my body now. I'm enveloped in silence and shadows, left with only my thoughts and heat from my fire. The ghosts that haunt me roam around my consciousness
frequently since crashing from space. The baggage was lighter then, growing into an almost unbearable heaviness I carry on my own. Faces and voices play on a loop
terrorizing me while I dance on the edge on sanity. Hopelessness runs through me when considering how to find restitution for all the lives I have stolen for my people's
survival on this earth. Existence on the ground meant survival of the fittest, or smartest I hoped. It was savage and unforgiving; leaving embedded names all over my
soul. All the people I've crossed since entering the atmosphere, I'm grateful for the ones that are living, and mourn the ones that are gone. Some of the warriors slain
were ruthless murderers, but they had families, people who loved them. My tears were for them; my pain was my only way to honor them. I allow my mind to wonder
back to the agony I felt when some of my own died: Finn, Wells, even Charlotte. I can instantly relate to Jasper's sadness and desperation. The vast loss he felt watching
helplessly as Maya died in his arms. I can't deny myself the knowledge of these feelings resonating with every loss of life.
Daylight usually suppresses my cocktail of emotions, falling to the sidelines to my constant awareness of my surroundings. Everyday my instincts grow; I become
stealthier and quicker with a knife. The forest once was a fearful place, full of the unknown. I remember my first night here, waking up to a glowing abyss: colors that
could never be replicated, an image to never be forgotten. My mind reels through my firsts on the ground: when the dropship door first opened, the first time I knew we
weren't alone, the first time I floated in water, the first time I met the grounders' commander, Lexa. A flood of memories washes through at the thought of her, almost
crippling me on the spot. Usually she creeps into my thoughts when I'm on the brink of consciousness, unable to control my mind. I reminisce on our first meeting;
blood was rushing through my body as I crept closer to the tent exclusive to the Commander. I'm surrounded by grounders snarling at me, ready to take my life at any
moment. The tent's flap is lifted in front of me, and I bend down slightly and finally enter. I look up to see a girl around my age, steadily spinning a dagger in her hands.
Her face is covered with war paint, her thick brown hair braided past her shoulders. "So you're the one who burnt three hundred of my men alive?"
Her eyes flicker to mine and I'm instantly captivated. I take a deep breath, very aware that I'm being tested. "You're the one who sent them to kill us in the first place."
As well as she hides it, she falters slightly. She recovers and strikes the wooden arm of her throne with her dagger. Her deep green eyes pierce mine, "Do you have an
answer for me Clarke of the sky people?"
I think she sees the cracks in my composure, but I'm not backing down.
"Yes, I've come to make an offer," I explain to her about Lincoln and she hesitantly follows me to the dropship.
A tree stump breaks me out of my reverie. For a moment, I lost myself in what now seems to be the beginning of the end. I suspected that she would make an impact
on me, but I was clueless to the immensity of my feelings for her. I acknowledged her beauty during that first encounter, but my admiration and care for her were like
embers at the bottom of a fire, smoldered but only needing stirred to erupt. She always seemed invincible, like nothing could faze her. How she seemed baffled when I
saved her in the cage, or when she executed Gustus with no whim of attachment. It's revolting to remember the bombing on TonDc and the whirlwind of emotions that
she arose out of me that day, ruthlessly abandoning her people to the missile to confessing that she had broken her mantra and cared for me. Then the earth shifted,
and she kissed me. It took me a moment to kiss back, but once I realized what was happening, pure bliss took over. Her kiss was so soft, yet powerful. The intensity of
that moment will never escape my mind. I pulled away as the fog lifted from my mind. I had been through so much, and the last thing I needed was another complicated relationship. Whatever was building between us would have to wait for me to find my balance on the ground. The look on her face as the words slipped
through my teeth has never left me.
I couldn't afford to lose focus drifting into the past. The dead are gone, the living are hungry, and hungry I was. Fear, guilt, longing, all those feelings weren't going to
catch my next meal. I need to rein it in and fall back into survival mode. Letting my emotions rule over me will only stir up more problems. To overcome all that has
happened, I must outlast. I continue to cover the area I'm most familiar with when I notice a rabbit in my snare. I hustle over, very thankful for a quick break. I waste
no time prepping it to eat, and settling down for the day as darkness overcomes the light in the sky. I had exiled myself for three weeks now, most days I found a way
to nourish my body and protect myself from the elements. I still craved belonging; nothing out here could offer me security from that. I wish I knew the place that
would satisfy my desire for a home. The comfort and reassurance I could feel eating dinner with people I knew cared for me.