Thea Kom Trikru never thought she would be confronted with a decision that could cost her everything. Her family, her home, her whole life...and when Thea finally chooses which direction to go in, she meets a certain brown-eyed mechanic that prefers...
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WE NEVER APPRECIATE THE SMALL THINGS IN LIFE.
The growth of a flower's first petal, a baby's first cry, the rise and fall of a chest...we never stop to think about what they mean, what they represent. To us they're just normal things that happen, everyday, in natural occurrences. And yet they're so much more.
A petal's existence - is a continuation of an already beautiful life. A cry - not the prettiest sound, by any means, but it shows that a new life has begun. A single breath - a constant.
Everything around us is connected to life, all linked together in an ongoing cycle of existence that will continue on for thousands of years...but we don't notice the life all around us. We do, however, notice the death.
Anya was dead. And Thea noticed that. The ground around her body no longer represented a beginning, Anya's life had come to an untimely end. The soil was coated in her blood, blending together in a battle of life and death.
She wanted to scream, shout, rip her lungs with her cries of pain and anguish...but all she could do was cradle the woman's body in her arms, cupping the back of her head and bringing her into her shoulder, shaking as sobs racked through her body. The only words she could manage to say -
Another gun was fired, the crack of the bullet piercing through the air before Clarke toppled onto Thea, the bullet embedding itself into her shoulder. Thea scrambled under Clarke, failing to free herself from the unconscious weight on top of her, and she refused to let Anya go. It was then that the gun struck to her temple, her head lolling to the side, limp, as she was dragged away, out from under Clarke...and her fingertips brushed Anya's for the last time.
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THEA SLUMPED AGAINST THE HARD METALLIC WALLS THAT ENCASED HER, once again cursing SkaiKru and herself for trusting them. For now she kept herself occupied, thinking of anything to keep her thoughts from drifting to Anya - and how it was her fault.
Physical acts of violence didn't work, the only outcome of her efforts were bruised knuckles and shoulders, the consequences of punching and running at the metal door that kept her contained in the box. She learnt too late that whatever she did would not matter.
Thea blamed it on her emotions. Usually, she was moderately capable of keeping a tight seal on her feelings, keeping them at bay and not releasing them openly into the world. Her people believed that bad actions led to chaos and destruction; the only way you could expel your emotions were through battle. Only then was it acceptable.
