A Whole New World | Octavia Blake [1]

Chapter 34

~~~~~~~~unedited~~~~~~~~

    Addison

Addison trailed behind Finn and Clarke, ignoring and tuning their conversations out. Finn was completely oblivious to the fact Addison was drunk off her ass when they found him by the outskirts of camp, to which she and Clarke were thankful for.

The night was soon over, the autumn sun peeking through the branches of the tall trees that kills the brunette's head. She no longer stumbled and gripped onto passing trees for support when Finn wasn't paying attention, but her head ached and pounded in her skull. She kept her head down most of the way, continuing to sip on the second canister of water Clarke had filled to the brim with water, and kept her groans at bay when turning her head to fast.

"Come on, we gotta hurry. We can't blow this," Finn says, hopping into a swift jog.

Clarke looks over her shoulder at Addison, who still trails them quite a ways. "You feeling better?"

"Uh, define better?"

"Headaches, puking...the usual hungover stuff," Clarke responds, the brunette stopping at her side on a small hill, and rests a hand on the nearest tree.

"Headache, check. Dizziness, sort of check, and puking, not at the moment." Addison finally looks up at Clarke, "Couldn't I have just stayed back at camp? I'm practically useless hungover."

"Hey!" Both girls snap their heads to Finn, Addison groaning softly and closing her eyes at the sudden movement. "Are you guys coming, or what?"

"I'll catch up," the brunette waves to Clarke.

She nods, yelling back to him, "Yeah!"

"Then let's go," he urges. "It's just up here."

Clarke nods again, averting her attention back to Addison, whose eyes are still closed, and head tilted to the ground. "Don't take too long," she tells the girl.

"Yeah, yeah...I know, go." Addison shoos her away, listening to her fast moving retreating footsteps.

The bile she's been dreading starts to rise, her lips snapping shut to contain it. She takes slow steps forward when the bile disappears, pausing every now and again to repeat the process.

She soon feels the ground change beneath her boots from mushy and soft, to the crunching of leaves on a hard surface. With the toe of her boot, she moves some leaves, finding cracked and weathered concrete. Her brows furrow, hearing voices soon after, and continues to follow the concrete buried in the leaves that crunch under her boots.

She trips over a fallen branch out the forest that once subsided most of her headache, groaning at the sudden brightness.

"Here," she holds out the now empty canister to Clarke, keeping her eyes closed.

She hears footsteps go to her, the canister being taken from her grasp and the sound of Clarke's backpack zipper opening before it's quickly zipped shut. The sharp pains subside to bearable pounds against her skull, her eyes squinting and surveying her surroundings.

Ferns and tall grass cover most of the old concrete bridge, a small path covered in leaves and its railings rusted and covered in a thick layer of moss that grow tiny white flowers on parts. Large rocks and logs mix in, blending in with the rest of nature's debris. Her eyes finally land on Clarke, Finn, and Octavia, who had began to converse again.