Warnings for murder, for dismemberment and decapitation and a great deal of talk of suicide, mistreatment of the mentally ill, misogyny and women being forced into asylums for not obeying their husbands.
Chapter 3-The next murder
Her mind was whirling. Dante and his family, dead, killed by asphyxiation, using gas. John Murphy, dead, hanged.
Clarke's breath heaved out as she stumbled around her room blindly, mind not comprehending anything.
Why were they here? What did they want? Why were they fixating on her?
And what were they?
That last question, Clarke hadn't thought she'd ever think about anyone, since she wasn't actually mentally ill. But she knew she had to wonder that question. Because, well, it didn't look like there was any choice but to ask that question, right?
They had heard her speak, even if she had whispered in the hallway. And there was no way that a normal human being could have reached those pipes, feet and feet above Murphy's head. And while Clarke would have thought this ridiculous before all this, something just felt…not human about them. That probably would sound absolutely ludicrous to anyone else. But that was just how it felt. Like there was something off about them. Something that made them more dangerous, much, much more dangerous than human beings.
That was why Clarke had again had to wonder that question. What were they?
They weren't humans. Or if they were, they were a type of human she had never heard of.
She tried to think, what could she do about this? About them?
What did they want from her? If anything? Or was this all a game?
She knew of a lot of people who would do something like this for a game. Not least of all, the people who were supposed to be her family. Her biological mother, Abby Griffin. But she, instead, had chosen her boyfriends, Kane and Blake over her and had chosen multiple other teenagers and young adults over her.
And those teenagers and young adults, not to mention, Bellamy Blake, himself, would have happily played games like this with her because it amused them.
But these people at this mental hospital, whoever they were, were not Bellamy or any of those teenagers or young adults.
Which meant, what?
That their agenda was different from everyone else's?
Not for the first time, Clarke wished that she could read minds. Sure, she was positive that that was a wish she would be regretting making almost as soon as she made it, after reading some peoples' minds and hearing some perverted or disgusted thoughts about her or someone else, or hearing someone's racist or misogynistic thoughts or homophobic or other types of thoughts.
There were a lot of bad people in the world.
And she would not want to be privy to their thoughts.
And she certainly didn't want to read the minds of a lot of people here at this mental hospital. Of the patients, staff or doctors.
But she wished that just in this very instance, that she could read the thoughts of these new doctors, know what they were, what they were doing here, what they wanted and why they appeared to be focused on her.
But she didn't have that ability. Which left her with nothing to do but potentially just sneak around and try to listen in on them.
She almost laughed at the possibility. And how had that ended the last time? It had ended with all of them looking at her in the lounge room.
She said quietly to herself, "What the hell am I supposed to do?"
She heard a door opening and looked at where the door to her room was beginning to open up.
She half thought it might be time for her meds, before reminding herself that it wasn't time yet.
She tensed up as soon as she saw who was in the doorway.
Several of the new doctors had just entered the room.
The door was closed as the doctors came in. It wasn't all of the new doctors. But it was a few of them.
Five of them altogether.
Dr. Natasha Romanoff. Dr. Melina Vostokoff. Dr. Tony Stark. Dr. Pepper Potts. And Dr. Bruce Banner.
Clarke's eyes never left the five doctors, that was assuming any of them were even doctors.
"Hello, Clarke," Natasha said gently, watching Clarke, smiling.
Clarke was unable to help the rude question that came out, "What do you want?"
Natasha's smile widened as she said, sounding almost innocent, if Clarke didn't know any better, "Why, Clarke, I don't know what you mean. We just want to help you. In any way we can."
"Cut the crap," Clarke snapped, glaring at them, "You all know what I mean, don't you? Don't try to play games with me. You're here for a reason. You want to help me? Fine. Then be honest with me. Why are you here? What do you want? Why are you fixated on me? And what are you?"
Clarke watched all five doctors closely, wanting to see if her words had any effect on them.
Tony's eyebrows lifted and he looked impressed. Bruce sighed, smiling. Pepper had a soft smile on her face. Melina's expression was neutral. But Natasha chuckled, smirked and nodded.
"Alright," The redhead said, "I think we can tell you. You already have figured out that we're not human."
Clarke felt her throat go dry. She had been right. Not human.
"I guessed that," Clarke said, "Why did you kill Murphy?"
Pepper chuckled, "Upset that we did that? Murphy hurt you. Harassed you. Made your life hell. And so did Dante and Cage Wallace."
Clarke snapped, glaring, "That doesn't mean you should have killed them!"
"Why not?" Bruce asked, "Dante and Cage Wallace would have just gotten in the way. And they were working against you. And Murphy liked hurting you and making you miserable. We wanted to kill them for you. We're glad we did."
Natasha spoke next, "And don't worry, we'll get rid of the others that hurt you too. We'll reunite you with your friend, Wells, your sister, your daughter and your father."
Clarke felt her heart freeze. She almost stumbled back.
Them talking about her father, Wells, her sister, her daughter…they shouldn't know about that…
At Clarke's frightened expression, Natasha said, her expression softening, "You don't need to be afraid of anything happening to your daughter, father, sister or to Wells. They're safe. I swear, we won't hurt any of them. Or you. But we just came to talk to you to explain. We're here to protect you. I know you don't believe that. But we are. We just want to keep you safe. We've been looking for you for a long time."
That comment was especially chilling. Clarke felt a shiver run down her back.
What did that mean?
"Looking for me for a long time?" Clarke asked, repeating what they said, "I don't…what do you mean by that?"
"Vampires, Clarke," Tony said, voice very dry, "We're vampires. And all vampires have soulmates. We're your romantic partner soulmates. All of us. Except for Clint Barton. He's your familial soulmate. Your father. By soul. Not by blood."
Clarke's mind raced. She had so many questions. Nothing that these people had told her answered anything. It just caused more questions. But still, the words that Tony said, caused her to snap, "I have a father, asshole."
This didn't cause anger or surprise, but chuckles.
"We know," Pepper said, "And we're not saying you should replace your biological father with Clint. Just that he's your father too. People can have multiple parents. It's just conventional society that tells people that that's wrong, even if it isn't."
"I…," Clarke hesitated before saying, "I don't even know all of you."
"You don't," Pepper agreed, "But you will. We came here to protect you. Even if you don't believe that. As we told you, we are your romantic soulmates. Tell me, as soon as you saw us, what was it you felt? For all of us, save for Clint Barton?"
Clarke thought about that and shivered.
Unfortunately, she remembered distinctly.
Desire. Need. A feeling like she couldn't help but be drawn to all these people. A desire to know them.
"I….," Clarke began, trying not to rationalize it, "You could have made me feel that. Vampires have powers, right?"
There were some chuckles.
"Yes, we have abilities like that," Natasha said, smirking, "But we didn't use those abilities on you. We would use those abilities on most anyone else. Just not you."
Clarke shook her head, tensing. "Why should I believe anything any of you say?"
"You shouldn't," Tony said, like it was just a plain fact, startling Clarke, "We're vampires. So, you shouldn't. But we didn't use our abilities on you. We want you to want us without any influence that we have."
Again, Clarke wasn't sure she believed any of this.
However, Pepper decided to push one issue. She said, "Even if you don't believe us, believe that we can reunite you with your friend, Wells, your father and your sister and daughter. Isn't that what you want?"
Clarke shivered. She did not like hearing them talk about her loved ones.
But yes, she wanted to see said loved ones again.
"I'm sure you know why me reuniting with them would be complicated," she said.
Both Natasha and Tony chuckled.
"We know," Pepper agreed, "Your father being in prison is one. And your mother and her boyfriends are others. Not to mention everyone believing you to be mentally ill and belonging here."
Clarke glared at Pepper.
"I'm not mentally ill!" She spat, getting annoyed at having to make it clear to people that she was put here not for the right reasons.
"We are beginning to figure that out," Natasha said, the smirk leaving her face, "We figured that if you were actually mentally ill, we'd try to get you the help you needed after getting you out of here. But it seems you're not actually mentally ill. Either way? We are planning on getting you out of here. And we'll bring your father, your friend Wells, your daughter and sister, to you, safe and unharmed."
Clarke watched these five vampires. She couldn't believe anything they said. She knew that. Tony even had said as much.
But what choice did Clarke have?
She felt some self-disgust, thinking about that.
She didn't want to dismiss the value of human life, but Murphy, Dante and Cage? They had been wastes of human beings.
Clarke didn't want to admit that. But they were. Dante's daughter and wife hadn't deserved what had happened to them. But Dante, Cage and Murphy had.
And Clarke, whether she wanted to admit it or not? These vampires were her best chance at reuniting with Wells, her father, her sister and her daughter again and not having to worry about being locked up.
She had no one else.
Which meant that she either could get over her morality and let them help her, if that was what they were actually doing. Or, she could sit back and stay where she was, be treated as if she was mentally ill, when she knew that she wasn't, and never see her father, her daughter, her sister or Wells ever again.
Clarke knew that she was about to do the worst thing there could be to do. But she knew what the choice was that she was going to make.
She pushed the words out, staring at the five vampires, wishing she could do anything else, "Alright."
At her word, all of the five vampires in front of her looked curious.
"Alright?" Pepper echoed.
"Alright," Clarke repeated, staring down at the floor now, "I'll accept your help. If it will help me see my daughter, sister, father and Wells again."
She forced herself to lift her head and stare at the vampires, watching their faces.
All five Natasha, Pepper, Tony, Bruce and Melina's eyes widened. They clearly were surprised by this decision that Clarke made.
"You don't need to participate in any way," Melina assured Clarke, "This will all be in our hands."
"Maybe," Clarke said, nodding, "But I can't handle knowing that you're going to do this for me, and just wipe my hands clean."
She watched them appear troubled at her words, but didn't say anything against her statement.
They accepted that this was her decision.
They didn't want Clarke to feel guilty in any way. But this was Clarke's decision.
"Very well," Melina said, "Then you should know who we're going to kill next. Now that Dante and Cage are dead? Dr. Strange is going to be the next head of the faculty here. We will not touch him. Him being in charge is good for this place and good for you."
Clarke's eyes widened. Stephen Strange? He was actually a good doctor, compared to Dante and Cage.
She suspected as well, that he would not take Abby Griffin's bribes to keep her daughter locked up.
"Who are you going to kill next, then?" She asked, almost afraid of asking.
"Well, now that the threats here in this facility are gone," Tony said, "I think it's time we moved to your former home. We'll start with the skinny, stupid one, Jasper."
Clarke gasped, that answer startling her. The people at her former home would be the next people on the list, starting with Jasper?
She knew what these people were saying, that they were going to kill people that hurt her.
But hearing that they were going to move in on where her biological mother lived? She tried not to feel disturbed.
But she did.
"We're sorry if that's not what you wanted to hear, Clarke," Natasha said, "But they hurt you. Your biological mother, Bellamy, Kane, Jasper, Raven, Octavia, Miller. And now? They're just getting what they deserve."
Clarke wanted to argue. The morality which her father had taught her, told her that she should argue, that she should say that doing this to people, was wrong.
But again, she knew that there wasn't much of a choice. Even if she had the ability to stop these vampires? Would she? The people that had hurt her, were continuing to keep her from her freedom and from the people that she loved.
If getting rid of Abby, Kane, Bellamy, Octavia, Raven, Miller and Jasper, would get her closer to seeing Wells, her father, her daughter and her sister again, then should Clarke really try to stop them?
Clarke sighed out and nodded.
She knew that the acceptance she was giving was begrudged and best, and she was sure that the vampires knew that. But they thankfully, didn't say anything.
"One of us will stay near your room for the rest of your time here, until you're let out," Bruce said, "To make sure no one tries to harm you while we're going out and disposing of those that hurt you in the past."
Clarke nodded, considering what Bruce was saying.
What did he mean "until you're let out?"
Did he mean that she would be let out at Strange's orders? Or that they were going to break her out?
Clarke chose not to ask that, having a feeling that these vampires would be at best, cryptic.
"But you're going to start with killing Jasper?" She asked.
Natasha nodded. "Yes," she said, "Then we'll kill Kane. Then Miller. Then Raven. Then Octavia. Then Bellamy. And finally, we'll kill the mother who betrayed you."
Clarke swallowed. Some part of her hated Abby Griffin. Hated the woman with a fiery passion.
But it didn't change that Abby Griffin had still been Clarke's birth mother.
But Abby had thrown Clarke away. As soon as Abby got the chance, she had thrown Clarke away.
And she had chosen anyone she could find, over Clarke.
Abby had chosen multiple people over Clarke. She had chosen Bellamy and Kane, she had chosen Octavia and Raven, she had chosen Miller and Jasper, she had chosen them all over Clarke, rather than protecting her own daughter.
If Abby was going to be killed now? Clarke couldn't help but feel that it was for a good reason, even if everything that her father had taught her to go against such a vindictive mindset.
But she couldn't help it.
Abby had turned on her, before she had ever felt this way about her mother. If Abby hadn't abandoned Clarke and hadn't treated her like garbage? Then this wouldn't be happening now.
At least, not if what the vampires were telling her, was anything to go by.
"I just should tell all of you now?" She said, "I don't think what you're doing is right."
"We've figured that out," Bruce said, "But we're going to do it anyway. These people hurt you. And we're going to give them the pain and end that they have had coming to them for a long time now."
Clarke fought another shiver. These people were serious. They were vampires, which meant that they likely had been around for a long time. Which meant that murder probably wasn't a new thing for them.
That did make her think of something. She lifted her head and asked, "How old are all of you?"
Melina chuckled, smiling, "Old. Perhaps not as old as you think. But old. We're not all the same age. We come from different eras." She nodded to Melina, "Of the five of us, Melina's the oldest. She is my sire. Bruce is the second oldest. Tony's the youngest."
Looking at Tony? You wouldn't think he'd be "the youngest," since he was visibly older than Natasha and could easily be physically older than Melina and Pepper. And he probably was.
But as a vampire? That didn't matter. Someone with all gray or even white hair and with multiple wrinkles, could be only a few days old in vampire time, when compared to a young looking person with no gray or white hair and no wrinkles, if the younger looking person had been sired centuries ago.
Clarke wasn't an expert on vampires, but anyone with general vampire knowledge, knew that.
"When should I expect Jasper to be killed?" She asked cautiously, not entirely believing that she was actually going along with this.
"It's already starting," Tony said, "Two of us, are going to your old home now. To get rid of Jasper Jordan. After Jasper is killed? We'll move on to Kane. And then to Miller. And after a point, Abby and Bellamy and if Octavia or Raven are still alive by then, then they too, will have the shit scared out of them. It won't be even close to what they deserve, but it will be a start of their punishment. We all decided together, how each of them will die. Jasper is going to die tonight. And he's going to die slowly."
Clarke felt the disturbance at what these vampires were saying, but even then? Her traitorous mind went back to every shitty thing Jasper had ever said to her.
"You know, there's a reason why no one will ever love you, right?"
"It's actually pretty sad that you think that you deserve anyone's love."
"You're an ungrateful ass and you always will be."
"Everyone's better off without you. Why the hell are you still alive when you know that everyone's better off without you?"
Some terrible and selfish part of her was thrilled at what she was hearing.
Jasper was going to die in pain. And he would die screaming, most likely.
And as much as she wished she could hate herself for it? She was so happy to hear what Tony was promising they were going to do to Jasper.
Far from the mental health facility, there was an apartment building. The apartment building had one specific apartment, that held several people living there.
One of the people that usually lived there, Jasper Jordan, was at the moment, not there.
He at the moment, was going out to get drinks. He had turned twenty-one a few months ago and had been taking advantage of that for all the months he'd been twenty-one.
He had bought alcohol in droves and would gulp down one bottle of beer after another.
You wouldn't think that someone could get drunk only after drinking beer, but Jasper drank more bottles of beer than was deemed "healthy" by anyone who hoped the person drinking would remain at least 2 percent sober.
For the young Jasper Jordan, who had floppy brown hair and who thought of booze as the love of his life, since it wasn't like anyone would give him the time of day, this was a great indulgence.
He'd heard recently that two people at the facility where they had dumped Clarke Griffin? The place where they had put the bitch, had lost two of its staff. Its top staff. Dante and Cage Wallace. The people that Abby Griffin had been paying to keep Clarke there.
Which meant what? What did that mean? Jasper hoped that didn't mean that Clarke was getting out.
The bitch deserved to stay there.
Jasper had always hated Clarke. He had tried to sleep with her one time and she had rejected him. And that had been it for Jasper.
Who did the bitch think she was? She thought she was better than everyone else.
"Well, sucks for her," Jasper grinned, "Now she's never getting out of that place. Stupid bitch. Serves her right."
Too bad. If Clarke had just slept with him, he would have defended her. But she didn't. sucked for her.
As Jasper began to traverse across the sidewalk, the night getting darker and darker out, as he got closer to the apartment building, he was about to cross the street, when he felt hands grip the back of his shirt and one hand on the back of his neck, pulling him back violently.
He yelped, the sound not that loud, as he was dragged into the bushes.
He was flung then, much to his shock, across the ground, crying out louder then, his eyes squeezing shut as he landed on his side on the ground.
Pain seared him and he dropped his newest can of beer on the ground next to him, the beer spilling out into the grass.
Jasper tried to get himself to focus. What the hell was that just now? Someone had grabbed him, but who?
He tried to focus his eyes in the dark, but couldn't see anything.
"Who…," he mumbled, feeling fear sending his heart racing as he searched the darkness, "Who's there?"
He hiccupped twice after he asked that question. But still, he saw and heard nothing.
At first.
Then came the response. A voice said by his right ear, and Jasper's heart turned to ice, his eyes widening as he almost heard a murderous grin in the voice of the person whispering at his ear.
"It's time to pay for what you've done, Jasper. We are going to cut you apart, piece by piece," the voice whispered, and Jasper could hear the sadistic delight in that voice.
Jasper gasped and despite how inebriated he was? He had enough sense to move forward and away from the voice and tried to turn to the right to get a look at the face of who had just spoken.
But he saw no one. Whoever had been there just now? They weren't there now.
Jasper shook his head, hiccupping again. Maybe he tripped, hit his head and was hallucinating.
Could just be the shock of hitting his head, if that in fact, was what happened.
He snorted as he got himself up off of the ground. "Man, Jordan," he grumbled to himself, "You're losing it."
"Not yet you haven't," a voice chuckled from behind Jasper, and this time it was a different voice from the first voice that Jasper had heard.
Jasper gasped, crawling so that he turned around looked in the direction of this other voice.
No one was there.
Jasper gasped, getting up from the ground and standing. He must have hit his head. That was what happened. It had to be.
That was alright. Abby Griffin was a doctor. And not the mental type that were messing with Clarke's head right now, but the type that patched people up physically. If anything was wrong with him? Abby would help.
He leaned down and grabbed the beer can off of the grass and started moving back to the sidewalk, breathing out, relieved that he had discovered the answer to why he heard disturbing voices.
Which was why, when he heard the words behind him in a singsong voice, "Going somewhere, Jordan?" Jasper only stopped for a few seconds, but a second later, kept moving.
He was just imagining it. He had hit his head and he was imagining it.
At least, that was what he believed, until, he was about to cross the street, and a pair of hands clamped down around the back of his head, and began pressing in and Jasper felt his skull begin to crush.
"No," the second voice said, and Jasper recognized that it was a woman speaking, "You're not going anywhere. You're staying with us, and are going to be getting exactly what you deserve, for what you have done to Clarke Griffin."
That was the only chance Jasper had to process what was happening, when he was pulled violently back, his skull still being pressed inwards painfully, and he felt a new hand on him, on his left leg and screamed, when he felt his left leg being torn from its socket and felt his leg being torn right off.
It was later on in the night, when Jasper Jordan's body was found, or, to be more specific, pieces of his body were found.
After Jasper failed to show up when he usually did, his friends got worried. And when he still didn't show up, two hours later, that was when Miller and Octavia went out looking for him.
Octavia and Miller looked around with bright flashlights, the beams of their flashlights scanning over the grass for miles as they walked.
But Miller and Octavia didn't find anything.
They and the others had tried calling Jasper's cell phone. But nothing. Jasper didn't answer.
Which meant he either had turned his phone off and was fine or he couldn't reach his phone right now.
When Octavia got to the small group of trees to the left of the apartment building, she stopped, gasping, when she shined the flashlight onto a nightmarish finding.
Body parts. Dismembered body parts.
Torn off legs, feet, hands and arms, were scattered all over the grass. And these weren't fake limbs, either. These were real.
Octavia could tell just by looking at them. You could tell that these were real body parts.
Octavia noticed, as she felt sick, that there were two of each. These belonged to one person.
And she severely hoped it wasn't who she thought it was. But when she saw the cloth on each limb, cloth that admittedly had more dark brown coloring to them than usual, because of the blood, Octavia recognized the cloth.
Dark brown that had nothing to do with the blood, with some dark green along the cuffs.
Octavia thought she might throw up.
It was Jasper's clothing.
"Oh, God," Octavia heard Miller whisper numbly, "O, look at this."
Octavia slowly turned to miller, tears in her eyes, as she sent her flashlight light over to where Miller was staring and shining his flashlight on.
And Octavia lost control of her sickness. She talked tough and tried to act like she was tough. But what she saw? Made her lose control.
There, on the grass, only two feet from where the severed limbs were, were three objects. One was what Octavia realized, at a few more glances, was sliced in half torso. One half was on the grass near the severed limbs. One half of the torso was further away. And it had its head missing, as well.
The other object? A severed head. On a stick that had been stabbed into the ground. The severed head had a face that Octavia recognized, even if it was slashed up and had blood all over it.
Jasper. It was Jasper Jordan's head.
Octavia vomited again, horror overtaking her and tears falling from her eyes.
Miller was just standing there, numb, incapable of keeping himself from staring at the horrifying sight.
The next morning came.
At the mental health facility? Clarke got up from a surprisingly long night of sleep. Surprising, because she hadn't thought she'd be able to sleep at all, after finding out what she'd found out.
Vampires? Vampires that had a fixation on her? And they killed people? And were going to kill people that she knew?
Despite that? She had fallen asleep with ease, and had stayed awake, until it was time for breakfast at the facility.
She pushed the blanket on her back, and got up, getting dressed, deciding she'd shower later on tonight. But she felt hungry.
She wondered if the vampires would be out and about and would be watching her.
But she wasn't stupid. She knew they would be.
She wondered about vampires and about the usual myth that they burned in sunlight. She was just going to have to assume that the story was bullshit, since the vampires had been around this facility during the day.
Still, something else to ask the vampires about.
She put her slippers on and walked out of the room, going down the hall to the cafeteria.
When she got to the cafeteria, she was not in any way surprised, to see that the doctors that were vampires and were so focused on her, were right in that room, most likely waiting for her there.
She tried to shake that thought.
She noticed that there were two of them missing.
Dr. Steve Rogers and Dr. Beatriz da Costa, were not present. She wondered what that meant, but she didn't need to wonder for much longer, because two figures emerged from the doorway next to the other doctors. Sure enough, Steve Rogers and Beatriz da Costa appeared. Clarke noticed that they were wiping their hands routinely with paper towels. She wondered what that was about.
She also noticed the other vampire doctors turn to Beatriz and Steve and she saw them say something to the other two vampires, but they were too far away for Clarke to hear what they were saying.
Whatever they said? Beatriz and Steve nodded, smirking.
Clarke then thought back to what she had been told last night in her room.
That Jasper would be killed. Then Kane would be targeted. Then Miller. Then the others.
It couldn't have already happened, could it? No way that it could have happened that quickly, right?
But Clarke wasn't a romantic. Or, she wasn't anymore, at least.
She knew that it could take seconds to kill someone. Someone could be here one day, then gone permanently the next.
And while some part of her knew that she should have put up more of a fight to protect the lives of Jasper, Kane, Miller, Octavia, Raven, Bellamy and Abby, she couldn't help the vindictive hope she felt that they might no longer have the chance to hurt her like they had before.
As Clarke reached one of the tables, sitting down and getting the tray with the breakfast on it, one of the staff, Scott Summers, announced, "With the deaths of the head of the doctors, Dante Wallace and his son, Cage Wallace, we'll be having a new head of staff, Dr. Stephen Strange."
Several of the staff applauded and many of the patients made non-committal noises in response.
Clarke eyed the vampires and noticed that they were glancing at her occasionally, before turning back to look at the doctors, pretending to listen to the announcements.
It looked like the vampires were right.
Then Summers announced, "Since a patient recently committed suicide, precautions have been made."
Clarke almost snorted. Suicide? How exactly could John Murphy have committed suicide? By flying up to the pipes and hanging himself that way?
Summers continued, "All of the pipes and anywhere where someone could potentially tie something around, will be plastered over and covered with the proper materials."
Clarke tried not to roll her eyes. Yes, an absolute excellent answer to suicide. Because surely, there wouldn't be any other way for someone to kill themselves besides hanging themselves.
Clarke could think of at least five other ways a person could kill themselves in this place. The thought of suicide had never crossed her mind. Even if she had ever felt the desire for it, which she never had, she wouldn't do it, if only because she knew that if she killed herself, it would make Abby, Bellamy, Octavia, Raven, Jasper, Miller and Kane very happy. And she wasn't going to do that.
Besides, if there was even a chance that she might reunite with her daughter, father, sister and Wells again? She'd take it.
But the point was? She knew there were multiple ways for a person to commit suicide.
People just didn't want to acknowledge that in a place like this where supposedly people with mental issues were being "taken care of," people could easily still find a way of hurting themselves or even killing themselves.
But that was just how the outside world was. When someone was mentally ill, they could just shuffle that person out of their lives and into this facility, and not have to worry about dealing with the mentally ill person again. The people in the outside world could just wipe their hands clean of any mentally ill person around them.
Or, in Clarke's case? People in the outside world could just wipe their hands clean of anyone they didn't like, by claiming that the person was mentally ill and so should be thrown in a cage, just like the women from the old days when a woman could be tossed into an asylum for not having another baby like her husband ordered, or just refused to have sex with their husbands. She was an inconvenience to her mother, so like the women of the old days, she had been thrown into this facility. And they had wiped their hands clean of her.
Which was why Clarke didn't feel any sympathy for Abby, Jasper and the rest of the people that had hurt her and were going to get killed.
Which in a way, would be appropriate, since she would find out a few hours later, what state Jasper Jordan had been found in.