Chapter 12: Determination

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Win because you don't know how to lose

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Win because you don't know how to lose. – unknown






THE NEXT MORNING THE PAIN WAS MUCH tolerable. But the truth was, even if I couldn't bear it I'd suck it up because I cannot take another second inside this damn ship.

I sit up, slowly, making sure that I didn't make anything worse. I needed to see at it. As much as I've been avoiding looking at my wound until now I had to know just how bad it really was. In my head, my thigh was missing a huge chunk and I would have uneven muscles forever.

The blood had seeped through my bandage, creating a dark red stain down the length of it. The image makes my heart race. Maybe I wasn't ready to look at it. A feeling of unease washes over me as I imagine the horror of what was underneath. I begin to slowly unwrap the bandage to take a closer look.

I gulp at the sight of the exposed gash. Clarke had improvised stitching material and had sewn the laceration as best as she could. It doesn't look pretty, but at least the bleeding seems to have stopped, which was a good sign. The skin around it remains slightly red and irritated. There's no doubt it's going to leave a nasty scar, but it was not going to slow me down.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Clarke demands as she walks into the dropship just then. She catches me just as I swing my legs over the edge of the table. I groan in protest. Just my luck.

I roll my eyes at her. "I need fresh air, Clarke."

She knew that fighting me on this was a waste of time and effort. I hop down, biting the inside of my cheek to prevent from cursing. I stand, although not entirely straight. "See," I say, keeping my voice level. "I'm fine."

She saw right through me but chooses to let it go. "Here." She tosses me a new pair of pants. I catch them with ease, thankful that I didn't have to walk around with torn pants forever.

I smile at the blonde. "Have I told you how awesome you are?" I don't waste a beat to change into them.

It was difficult to pull my leg through, but I sucked it up knowing that Clarke would look for any excuse to tie me down again. If I couldn't manage to put on a pair of pants without cursing or wincing she would use it as a reason for me to remain in the dropship. To add salt to an already open wound, the pants were a little too tight on me. It hugged my thighs much closer than I found comfortable but I'm sure after some wear and tear they'll loosen up.

As I walk out, I turn back to cast a glance at Jasper. He was laying in the same position he has been in for the last three days. The only movement was coming from the slow rise and fall of his chest. The only sound was his continuous loud moans of agony.

"It's not your fault, you know," Clarke whispers, coming beside to me.

"I should have been there."

Clarke frowns but doesn't comment any further. She knows that nothing she says will make me feel better about what happened to Jasper. Sure we had found him, but he's barely alive. It's been three days and he still hasn't woken up. If I had gone with them initially, perhaps Jasper would've been safe, or maybe it would've been me instead of him.

Fallen Angel [Bellamy Blake]Where stories live. Discover now