𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 | bellamy blake¹

↬ | chapter six

006.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

   Magnolia couldn't believe she almost began to take the Earth's indescribable air for granted.

   Scratch that, everything was indescribable. In that moment, she made a promise to herself, swearing that she would never forget how fresh the oxygen really was. She'd never forget about all of the colors again— not a chance.

   Green wasn't the way she wanted to describe the trees. So many things made them utterly gorgeous and appealing to the eye. A faint aroma radiated off of them if you were close enough, and it beat the smell of that damn chocolate cake by a long shot. Unquestionably, no matter how good it might've once been.

   It was rejuvenating; it felt fresh, and it instantly healed Maggie and put her in a good mood.

   As Gray walked through the woods, she constantly prayed that it was the right direction. Last thing she needed was for her memory to be all disorderly to the point where she couldn't even place a finger on the actual location of where the Ark landed.

   Or crashed. Maggie would be the judge of that soon enough.

   But with all of the great things nature had to offer, it was insanely risky; not to mention dangerous. Grounders had a sickly obsession with traps and games— hopefully they only went through with them when it was a group of people. If she was caught in the trees, Magnolia would have absolutely no clue on how to get out of that one. 

   Maybe she wouldn't get out of it at all. Would they just leave her there, hanging upside down until the immense blood flow to her brain made it explode?

   At the same time though, they now had an even larger grudge to pick with the Sky People than they did upon first landing on the planet. Not only had they taken already occupied space, but now, the teenagers had hundreds of Grounder deaths under their belts. Both directly and indirectly. She had no clue as to how many she shot down and killed; it wasn't an insane amount, probably no more than nine or ten. But still— it wasn't something she intended on doing within her life-span, but hell. 

   Growing up, Magnolia had a general plan of how her life would ideally go: she'd abandon her home with her mom and dad when she became of age, and make a living for herself within the Ark. Past in the past, Mags believed she would get some sort of occupation, maybe being a fighting instructor or something along those lines— she had experience, and it would've worked. 

   Obviously, the universe had different plans for her. Making history by stepping foot on Earth? In some ways it beat what Maggie imagined the world had in store for herself. But others— not so much. The war with the Grounders. The lever she pulled with Clarke. As for that very lever— that was another story. Hundreds. For being an eighteen-year-old teenager, she had murdered more people than ever imaginable. In some cases, she had murdered more than some of the killers she learned about from the pre-apocalyptic world and once thought were psychopathic.

   Was she just like them?

   Magnolia tried her hardest to not think of that aspect. Hopefully, she wouldn't have to return to the drop ship any time soon. Coming into contact with the skeletons that littered the area was not something she had necessarily aspired for. For all that time, she hadn't born the guilt— it was self-defense. But if all the bodies made it a reality, then she didn't know how she'd react.