Author's Note: Hello everyone, it's good to be back! :) Here is your fifth chapter. I decided to do something a little different and follow through with my saying that the story would be nonlinear. This whole chapter will be Clarke's dedicated flashback and we get insight into how she got dragged into all of this and briefly what she was like before a shit load of stress got dumped on her. For our heroes, THIS is the beginning. Timeline wise, this takes place during Jasper's flashback when his and the other hospital residents see the emergency broadcast. We actually get to hear the emergency broadcast in all it's glory! There is also a slight mention of Monty, but not by name - let me know if you catch it! :)
Also, you will be happy to know that I have the next chapter written. It is yet again written through Clarke's perspective set in present time. The next chapter is actually the companion to this - it was supposed to all be one big chapter, but that would've been like 8000 words on its own.
The title of this comes from one of my favorite musicals that goes by the same name. Give a listen! And with that, please follow, favorite, review or even PM me. I love hearing whatever suggestions you might have for the story. Enjoy the chapter. :)
Chapter 5: Into the Woods
Clarke's POV (Flashback):
It was no doubt that the ground was inexplicably boring. The Ark's technology allowed us the absolute essentials. Besides that, there was little form of entertainment to partake in. One could only read so many books from the small, ungrowing library; one could only practice their martial arts methods before it became almost robotic; one could only play outside in the fresh air before seeing it all. That is, except for drawing.
From a very young age, I took up art as a form of stress management – yes, ten-year olds can be stressed out too – and it just stuck with me. Dad called me a natural born artist and said Arkadia would need people like that to remind them of what's important. I remember smiling at him.
And right now, I smile down at my half-finished drawing of the horizon. Landscapes were my favorite to draw because while one could go outside and feel the same air on their skin or see the same trees every day, I often found that every landscape drawing I made would have to be drawn and revised every other day due to the trees 'being different' or simply how I wanted the sun to look in certain pictures. From an onlooker's position, the world could be so beautiful outside of the main gate.
The parameters of Arkadia only allowed us to see so much. I didn't know much about politics – that was more Wells' thing when he was still around and being taught by his father – but I had a few thoughts that 'Skaikru' was one of the more hated clans on the ground. Therefore, we had large and imposing gates for a reason.
Chancellor Pike saw to that. It's not as if I hated the man. No, far from. When I was younger and still living on the Ark, he taught several survival courses after we learned that it was safe to return to Earth. Not to mention, my mom and dad were close enough friends with him to where I would see him at the dinner table every other week or so, much like the Jaha father and son duo. That was, until his daughter passed away. I didn't see him much after that.
Now that I was no longer in classes anymore, I was looking for some form of a job, so to speak. My mom, the highly accredited hospital director, always offered to take me under her wing so that I could become a doctor just like her and stop working on drawings. I had thought about her offers multiple times and even studied medicine in school to make her happy. While it was a very knowledgeable class, I found that it was not a career path I could possibly stand. I had soon realized that I wanted to help people, but I just found that I couldn't do that within a hospital setting.
So instead of being productive and finding my way in this tiny cramped world, I stayed home and drew jumbled messes with charcoal and colored pencils. In Arkadia and previously on the Ark, it was customary to live with your parents until you got married, and that was when you would move out into some type of living space with your spouse. So, until I got married - which was highly unlikely to happen - I didn't have to do much. It also helped that my dad was a mechanical engineer and my mom was the director of surgery. So, I wasn't in such a rush for anything.
Of course, when I wasn't with my drawings - or pretending to look for a job - I was with Octavia and her older brother. Like any other day, I decided to pay them a visit and chat with Octavia. She was still attending prerequisite classes, so some days I would help her with homework. Her brother, Bellamy, and I shared regular classes with each other way back when, and I ended up making his acquaintance first, regretfully. If I had met Octavia first, I'm sure that I wouldn't have been as suspicious of her being obnoxious like her sibling. And she was obnoxious, but more so in a 'what's a normal thing that teenage girls do that can really piss off my brother?' Bellamy on the other hand was just plain obnoxious, at least around me. The jackass.
"Hey O!" I exclaimed after she let me into her small housing quarters that she shared with her brother and mom. Safe to say, each of them were allowed their own room, but the house itself was smaller than the houses on my end of Arkadia. Bellamy would never let me forget that. But, I wouldn't think about him right now. "How's your studying going?"
"Bleh!" the sassy brunette exclaimed with an exaggerated fall onto her couch. She dramatically covered her eyes. "Remind me why chemistry and physics are so important?"
I laughed a little at her complaints and remembered being in the same boat when I had to take the same classes. I slowly took a seat on the couch and smiled at her approvingly. "Well, without one, you wouldn't exist; and without the other, you wouldn't be able to walk on the ground."
"Actually!" she jumped off the couch. "I would probably still exist and walk on the ground just fine, but there wouldn't be an explanation behind it," she stated matter-of-factly.
"Touché," I claimed. As a second thought, I added, "You know, I might have a friend who can help out. He's a like a year older than you, but great with this kind of stuff."
Suddenly, Bellamy ever-invasively stomped quickly into the room, almost completely ignoring me to get to the standard television set that all households were required to have. "Move it Princess," he rudely commented.
"Wow, asshole. Someone's feeling rather grumpy today. What's wrong, got your manties in a twist?" I taunted lightheartedly and smirked. I'd have to use that one again!
Octavia laughed from her position on the couch and curled her feet underneath her, but she slowed her chuckles to a halt when Bellamy made no jab back at me. She looked at me desperately as I stood, almost mimicking her expression. Usually when I threw a snarky comment Bellamy's way, he would retort and we would have a good laugh about it. When one or the other didn't respond so gracefully, then we knew something was wrong. Just like now. "Bell?" Octavia asked in a worried tone.
"They're about to announce something on the alert channel… sayin' that everyone needs to tune in," he merely stated. "Mom, come here a minute," he stated when he got the channel situated and the static nearly gone.
"What's wrong Bellamy?" Aurora Blake's voice sounded from her now-open bedroom door. Even she sounded worried. She was a seamstress and could work from home most of the time. Bellamy and Octavia usually knew not to disturb her when doing so.
Now I knew something was wrong.
We all gathered around the small television and within seconds, a figure appeared on the screen. "Dad?" I asked as I neared the set. I knew he couldn't hear me, and was frankly surprised that Bellamy didn't make the comment aloud. Why would he be releasing an emergency broadcast?
"Greetings everyone," he stated with a warm smile. Dad, what's going on? "As you may or may not know, my name is Jake Griffin and I live here in Arkadia with you. Some may know me from family and formal dinners with my wife and daughter; others may know me from work; others may not know me whatsoever, and that's fine. I work as a mechanical engineer and I was actually the head developer for the Progressives – the robots we have to make our lives easier by cooking and cleaning or running errands while we earn what living we can." He took a long pause.
We didn't have any Progressive robots in our home, compared to some families that even had two of them! I had always asked dad why we couldn't have one, but he always gave me rather vague answers. I had just chalked it up to him being too modest to take part in his own creation. Whenever I finished a drawing, I often hid it away where I wouldn't have to look at it or admire it, so I understood where he was coming from. Was my reasoning for him not wanting a Progressive correct though?
"I had always imagined that the Progressives were my greatest creation," he smiled nostalgically and it felt like being at the dinner table with him all over again. Dad, what are you doing? "Well, I was wrong. So. Horribly. Wrong. And to all my friends, coworkers… and family, I am sorry for deceiving you."
I felt as if I had to physically restrain myself from inching closer and closer to the television, even as I felt the eyes of the Blakes shift to me every now and then. You lied? Aurora, the mother that she was, rested a comforting hand on my shoulder as Octavia scooted closer to me, ready to offer comfort if need be.
"After the initial prototypes my team created, Chancellor Charles Pike came to us with a coding proposition, claiming that it would allow for Arkadia to be protected against Grounder communities that wished to attack us. Naturally, I agreed – I would do anything to keep Arkadia on the ground and out of harm's way," he said as his eyes shown with the utmost sincerity. My heart began to beat faster and faster. "It wasn't until I received word that our officers had been leading offensive actions against surrounding Grounder communities using the Progressives. They became a weapon to enslave and to kill," he paused and had to look away from the camera. "Recent intel has told me that… that… the Progressives will be engaging against our own community. Those of lower class living as well as those of prisoner status will be persecuted. Soon."
By this point, Octavia was cowering more towards Bellamy for moral support, of which he offered as best as he could, even though I could see the fear beginning to etch into his charcoal eyes. I could not see Aurora's features, but the slight tightening of her grip on my shoulder signaled that she was trying to keep it all together. I, on the other hand, let my physical features give nothing away, but I could still feel and possibly hear the pounding in my heart, as my mouth went completely dry, and a loud ringing in my ears began.
"I am so truly sorry to ALL Arkadians," Jake Griffin, the deceiver, spoke. "But heed my words carefully: Do not let the actions of Chancellor Pike obscure your morality – your choices. You are not his subjects to be taunted at his own will. You are Arkadians. You are Skaikru."
With that, the channel shut off in a blur of static. It looked as if he wanted to say more, but was cut off quickly.
For only a few moments, the Blakes and I sat in stunned silence. What did this mean for me? Hell, what did this mean for them?
My mind still ablaze, I looked over to Bellamy who mimicked my own facial features. The chapped nature of his lips allowed me to know his mouth was completely dry too.
Mustering all my strength, I stood on my own two feet. "Ms. Blake, I think it's time I go home now," I stated as normally as I would any other day. Except this time, I could almost feel bile rising from my throat.
She looked as if she were going to protest before I started quickly putting on my jacket and boots, giving her no time to protest.
"Clarke," Octavia said from behind me. I didn't want to look at her knowing what my family had potentially done to hers. "Clarke, look at me please," she plead and grabbed my hand in her own.
Reluctantly, I did look at her. "O, I might not be around for a while," I stated calmly. The blonde waves I usually tried to keep pushed behind my head slowly began to unravel in my face.
Any other day, she would argue and call my bull shit. After all, it was a rarity that I was never not in the Blake household for more than two days; Octavia usually occupied the other days at my house. But today was different, and she didn't argue. However, all I wanted to hear from her in the moment was 'see you tomorrow, dummy' and have her give me a hug.
Over her shoulder, I looked to Bellamy and only nodded. He reciprocated. It was always a strange connection that we had – all that fighting and getting under each other's skin must've really built a mental connection between us. He stepped up to Octavia and tentatively put his arm around the lithe girl as she slightly tucked herself into his embrace once more. It wasn't every day Bellamy Blake would openly be affectionate towards his sister.
With no more words to say, I walked out the front door and allowed the frisk air to hit my cheeks. My hands felt numb with fright and every step I took felt like I was splitting my shins in half, but I just kept walking. And walking.
"Clarke, hey! Wait," Bellamy's voice sounded from behind me. In the fog of it all, his voice stood out like a beacon of hope, oddly enough. He caught up to me and I merely looked at him, briefly letting my guard down and showing him the true fear I held in my eyes. His, however, were strong and capable. He was ready to be fearless for the both of us. "If you can't come back to give us a proper goodbye…" he paused. "Then I wanted to say it so myself. May we meet again Clarke Griffin, and we will."
Seemingly without much thought, Bellamy lurched forward and gave me a sloppy hug. His arms covered my own, so I could barely lift my own past his elbows; but, for a moment, I laid my head on his chest and breathed in his scent – his musky scent that was just so… Bellamy. "May we meet again Bellamy Blake," I stated softly and gave him a slight kiss on the cheek. all the while, he remained still and didn't further acknowledge the peck of my lips. I had never done that to him before and almost missed the spark that passed through me when I touched my lips to his warm cheek.
"Besides, I'll want this back," he stated while slipping something cold and heavy into my hand. I looked at the object and saw that it was a swiss army knife with the engraving B.B. on the side. "Don't lose it," he said at last, grabbing my hand and enclosing it over the metal instrument.
"I wouldn't dare," I said.
At last, after Bellamy was safely walking out of sight, I pocketed the useful weapon and sprinted home. No one was outside – probably because everyone was reeling from Jake Griffin's admission.
I approached home in record time, and was thankful that our home was nearer to the outside of the gates. That way, it would take officers – and apparently Progressives – longer to get here. Even so, I could just make out faint figures coming my way in the distance.
I ran into the house, not really having a clue as to what to do. Did I grab some food and run? Did I hide in under floor boards? Did I just wait patiently for whomever to interrogate me and take me away to God-knows-where?
"Clarke, honey?" My mom's gravelly voice yelled from the kitchen as she rushed to greet me. We engulfed one another in a hug, and that was all it took for me to know that she saw the broadcast.
"Mom…" I began to tear up. "Where's dad?"
"I… I don't know, sweetie," she said sorrowfully as her face broke. How was she supposed to know anyway? Really, it was a dumb question on my part. She leads us into the kitchen and on the table simply sat one hiking bag. It was filled and packed to the fullest, but the bag was small enough that even a child could carry it for several hours. "You have to get out of here."
"Wh-what?!" I asked. "But, what about you? Isn't this treason?" I asked. Something told me that I already knew the answer to both questions.
She ignored said questions, but carried on. "You have enough food for a week in there if you ration it right. I also packed you a… gun," she swallowed hard at that. My mother was a strong advocator against guns considering it was the second most common injury in her hospital. "There's a small blanket in there along with warmer clothes and a health kit. There's other stuff, too. But we need to get you out of here right now."
She continued to spew advice in the short time we had left, mostly about remembering how to hunt and scavenge. If I were to stumble upon any Grounder villages, I was to remember my manners and show gratitude to them. She told me that if I was going to remain near Arkadia, that I needed to keep a five-mile radius between myself and the perimeter.
"Mom," I interrupted her. "It's okay. I'll be okay," I stated calmly. Maybe it was the shock of the whole situation or maybe it was instinct, but I felt awfully calm in this moment as I grabbed several weapons from my room. My throwing knives for one – which the great Abby Griffin looked baffled about – as well as my trusty bow and quiver of arrows. I slung both across my shoulder, and clipped the throwing knives to a thigh holster specifically for them.
"Please tell me your father did not get those for you," she said in a half serious tone.
I didn't answer, but instead cracked the slightest of smiles, of which she returned. So, what if the knives had been a secret birthday gift and the matching holster a secret Christmas gift?
"Clarke, you need to go somewhere specific," my mom stated, handing me a map of Arkadia and the surrounding terrain and other villages. "Remember that young lady I treated years ago with the leg brace? Her name is Raven and she runs an inn by the ocean," she stopped and physically pointed to the marked area on the map. "She runs trading posts as well as safe passage for all the surrounding Grounder villages. And as weird as it sounds, there is someone else you need to meet. It is very important that you do so, do you understand?" she waited for me to answer, so I nodded my head, acknowledging that I understood everything she had mentioned. "Clarke, you need to convince the Grounders or anyone to help us – to help Skaikru. Without them, we won't stand a chance."
"I know, mom," I said heavy-hearted, knowing that this was mostly likely the last time I would see her for quite some time. "I love you, mom."
"I love you too, Clarke and so does your father," she said with tears in her eyes.
We embraced one last time before I snuck out the back door. I began walking at a brisk pace, but sped up when I heard my mother yelling at the guards with them yelling right back. I started running. Not because I had to – although I probably should've been from the beginning – but because I could not stand to hear my mother fighting this battle alone.
And into the woods I trekked.
Thoughts? Good, bad, just happy that this story is finally being picked back up? Let me know!
