Hey guys! AHHHHHH I'M SO SORRY! I know, I know, I'm a horrible person for not updating sooner. But, honestly, so much stuff has happened in the past month I don't even have enough room to explain it all. (There was a new job, another funeral, and a whole bunch of writers block).
I just got started on the next chapter of Nowhere Found, and so I wanted to share a small snippet of the chapter to let you guys know that I am back and I haven't forgotten about the story! Here's a small preview!
Next chapter should be up in a couple of days, I hope :)
Nowhere Found Chapter 11 Preview
i.
Love is weakness.
That's what she tells herself. Love is weakness.
Love, of all its limited strength and glory, causes only pain. It restores a lost faith inside each exhausted soul, ignites lost memories of a life that once was and a life that could be.
It destroys people. It destroyed her.
It crept into her heart and forced her to hope. It caused her grief, and suffering, created the blood on her skin and the nightmares in her mind.
She thinks of love, and she thinks of Bellamy, thinks of the endless trail of corpses behind him.
She thinks of Finn. Remembers the knife in her hands.
Remembers the blood.
Clarke shifts, her body stiff with hardened crimson and aching muscles as she lifts herself from the ground. She looks at the body beneath her, looks at Bellamy, his expression so troubled in his slumber.
He's real, he's breathing, and it makes her want to scream, makes her want to rip out her heart and the feelings that contain it.
Love is weakness.
Clarke breathes deeply. She glances at the sleeping bodies around her, so few alive amongst the countless fatalities of the Ark. There's so many questions, so much to discuss, and she closes her eyes, limping further into the forest.
She hisses at the movement of her wounds, the stretching of her stitches. Her body gains torture with each step, with each breath, her blood pounding feverishly as she stumbles across the ground.
She lowers herself onto the dirt, pulling at the roots of the grass.
"Clarke?"
Clarke clenches her fists, turning towards the voice. She missed that voice.
Octavia stands in front of her, her arms crossing over her chest. "What are you doing?" she questions.
She bites on her lip. She removes her fingers from the grass, rubbing her hands against her bandages. They're soaked with blood and sweat, her stitches thick underneath her wraps. She shouldn't be walking, shouldn't even be moving, and Octavia knows that.
"There's so much noise. I can't think, " Clarke says.
Octavia breathes deeply. "Yeah," she mumbles, kicking at the dirt around her feet. "Sure."
Clarke sighs. She remembers the last time she saw Octavia, nearing her death with a bullet in her leg. She remembers the months leading to the massacre, thinks of her courage and her loyalty. She lent Clarke her home, shared her bed and her food.
"I'm really glad you're not dead," Octavia murmurs.
Clarke nods. "You, too."
Octavia smiles. She walks towards her, sitting beside Clarke on the grass. Her eyes scan the bruises and cuts on her body, and she wonders how many more wounds are hiding beneath her clothes. Wonders how many more people they killed to still be alive.
She sighs, and Clarke hears the words before Octavia even speaks them.
"What happened?"
Clarke swallows thickly. Finn's face flashes before her. Cage's lips press against her neck. A river suffocates her throat.
There's a cough, and a breaking of sound that echoes throughout the forest. It's harsh, and violent, and Clarke doesn't even realize it's the sound of sobbing until Octavia wraps her into an embrace.
Clarke's tears are hot against her cheeks, and she can't even breathe.
Love weakened her. Love weakened us all.
What do you guys think so far? It might seem off, but it's only because I have to get back into the story and characters! Don't worry, this chapter will be worth it! And there'll be a (somewhat) reassuring Bellarke moment in this chapter. Can't wait for you to guys to read it! xoxo, full chapter will be up soon!
