Silent Moments: Book One (The 100)

Chapter 13

Her decision to jump off the cliff was both shocking and tragic, leaving us in a stunned silence. Clarke and Bellamy's reactions were a study in grief and shock, their expressions reflecting the gravity of what had just occurred. Bellamy's grief quickly turned to rage as he attacked Murphy, his fists fueled by anguish and fury. Clarke's intervention was both urgent and commanding. "Bellamy stop, you'll kill him!"

Finn's physical intervention was necessary to pull Bellamy away from the brink of committing a grave act. Clarke's assertion of the need for rules and order was a turning point. "No! We don't decide who lives and dies, not down here!" she declared, her voice echoing the necessity for a new way of life.

The decision to banish Murphy was a grim but necessary resolution. Bellamy's warning to Murphy was a chilling reminder of the harsh new laws that governed our existence. As the crowd dispersed, I left my knife beside Murphy, a silent acknowledgment of the harsh reality we faced. His fate was no longer in our hands.

Returning to camp, Monty's breakthrough with the wristbands was a small victory in the midst of overwhelming challenges. The removal of Clarke's wristband without incident contrasted sharply with the frying of mine, a testament to our fragile grip on hope and survival. In the aftermath of Charlotte's tragic choice and Murphy's banishment, our society had taken yet another hit. Amid the turmoil, however, there remained a glimmer of hope that we could build something better, something just, from the ashes of our old world.

The atmosphere in the room was a mixture of apprehension and hopeful expectancy as Monty set up the wristband Morse code machine. Everyone's eyes were fixed on the device, a symbol of our potential lifeline to the Ark. "So will we be able to talk to them?" I asked, my voice a mixture of hope and uncertainty, echoing the sentiments of us all.

Monty, with a technician's precision, responded, "No, it will be more like Morse code. Do you want to do the honors?" He extended the red connector to Jasper, an invitation laced with trust.

Jasper's hand trembled slightly as he accepted the connector. His eyes, filled with a blend of determination and fear, met Monty's before he carefully plugged it into the port. For a fleeting moment, as the machine whirred to life, a collective breath was held, only to be shattered as the machine suddenly burst, sparks flying.

"What just happened?" I asked, startled by the abrupt malfunction.

Monty's face, a canvas of dismay and confusion, was bathed in the light of the flickering sparks. "I think we just fried all of the wristbands," he said, his voice tinged with disbelief and a sense of defeat.

In the wake of the machine's failure, Finn's emotional response was palpable. Tears welled in his eyes, reflecting the gravity of our missed opportunity. He shared a meaningful glance with me, a silent communication of shared disappointment, before walking away, his steps heavy with the weight of our collective failure. Clarke, always responsive to the needs of others, followed Finn, her face etched with concern and determination to offer comfort. Her departure was a silent testament to the bonds we had formed under these extreme circumstances. Meanwhile, Jasper, overwhelmed by the magnitude of the situation, slid down the wall, burying his head in his hands in a gesture of despair. His breath was shaky, a physical manifestation of his internal struggle.

Octavia, ever the source of empathy, knelt down in front of Jasper, her presence a beacon of support. "Sit there at your own risk. I think I might be cursed," Jasper's attempt at humor did little to mask his deep-seated feelings of guilt and failure.

"Well then, call me a risk taker. You're not cursed, Jasper," Octavia replied, her voice gentle yet firm, offering a counterpoint to his self-deprecation.

"Unlucky then," Jasper mumbled, his voice low, struggling to find solace in Octavia's reassurances.

"No. Brave," Octavia insisted, her conviction clear. She saw something in Jasper that perhaps he couldn't see in himself at that moment.

"For what? For getting my face bashed in? Or for ruining any chance we had to contact the Ark?" Jasper's voice was laced with self-doubt, his words reflecting his inner turmoil.

"No, for standing up to a bully and trying to help everyone," Octavia countered, her belief in him unwavering.

"Yeah. And failing both times," Jasper retorted, his self-criticism evident.

"I didn't see anyone else stepping up. Did you? And I don't care how things turned out, you were brave enough to try. And bravery is always rewarded," Octavia reassured him, her smile embodying encouragement and faith in his actions.

Then, in a moment of unexpected vulnerability, Jasper leaned in, and their lips met. It was a tender, surprising connection, a small but significant act of finding comfort and solace in each other. From my vantage point, I playfully punched Monty's shoulder to draw his attention to the scene. His eyes widened in surprise, mirroring the shock on Jasper's face after Octavia pulled away—a mix of amazement, embarrassment, and perhaps a newfound respect for Jasper's courage.