OUT OF MIND² ━━ Bellamy Blake

𝐗𝐗𝐗𝐈𝐈𝐈: No More Funerals

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NO MORE FUNERALS

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IF THE WORLD HAS ALREADY ENDED, why does everything still feel as if it is falling apart?

Each moment is apocalyptic. With every inferno breath, Lyra feels as if they are spiralling further and further into the darkness, descending deeper and deeper into the earth. It will not be long before they are being razed by hellfire. Bad news comes with deathly speed, flashing steel like Octavia's damned blade, the reaper of souls. I'm starting to forget what the stars look like, Lyra thinks when coal-smeared concrete hangs low over her head, condemning her to this half-life, pressing in closer and closer like the lid of a coffin. Sealing her fate. She doesn't quite know how to admit this to her dad and so she lets the question burn in her throat, the flames acidic, seething and painful. She drifts into the cafeteria, feeling somewhere between life and death, trapped in this place that is somewhere between the earth and the sun. I'm starting to forget what the stars look like. Lyra's hands tremble as she tries to hold onto the meal tray that has a pitiful bit of stew that looks like rot. Embers smoulder inside of her lungs. The thought haunts her. I'm starting to forget what the stars look like.

Lyra closes her eyes. She wants to be somewhere far way. Dissolving into the stars.

"I think we're missing something," Nate announces, taking a grimy metal fork and poking at stew. His nose is wrinkled.

"Ooh, let me guess," Noah says. He glances around at the Skaikru filled cafeteria and then at the Azgeda guards glowering at them. "Teamwork? Cohesion?"

"A general sense of what we're doing?" Lyra offers half-heartedly.

Noah grins. "A will to live?"

Abby's thin lips cramp as she glances up from the unappealing meal. "Aren't you two just little rays of sunshine."

"I just meant decent food," says Nate meekly, staring between the father-daughter duo.

"At least on the Ark we had windows," remarks Jackson drolly. His lips roll in as he pokes around at the food.

"The Ark sucked," retorts Nate. "Does anyone remember the Skybox?"

"The good ol' days," Lyra drawls, thinking of the cramped box and the window to the stars. "Back when we didn't have to sit around and starve to death - they'd just call your name and then you were gone. Boom! Just like that."

She snaps her fingers for emphasis.

"There was a crier in the cell next to me," he recalls, brown eyes half-glazed with memories. "Then one day the guard went in, he screamed, and I never heard from him again."

He gives a reminiscent sigh.

"And you two are horribly depressing," decides Noah, eyes slanting and finding Lyra's. "What's this, another teenager phase?"