Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
— HER EARS WERE RINGING, THE CHANT OF BELLAMY'S NAME BEING REPEATED OVER AND OVER. Time had slowed down, Cleo's eyes glued to Murphy's. He had been nothing but cruel, but not even the cruelest person deserved this. Horror and sympathy filled her eyes and she hoped Murphy knew that she didn't hate him.
In the background of the ringing, she could hear Bellamy and Clarke arguing. She had seen Bellamy kick the box out from underneath Murphy, but she hadn't been able to uproot herself from her position. Murphy swung around, listening to the cheers of the bloodthirsty delinquents.
It wasn't just Bellamy who would be responsible for his murder, it'd be all of them.
Finn came out of nowhere, instructing Charlotte to get out of the angry pack. Cleo hadn't even noticed the young girl was there.
Her eyes were trained on the hanging boy, dry and wide-eyed before Charlotte's voice stopped every cheer in the forest.
"Murphy didn't kill Wells!" She shouted, silencing the juveniles surrounding the dying boy. "I did."
"Oh my god," Clarke murmured with disbelief, acting quickly to cut Murphy down.
Cleo pushed past the crowd, joining Finn by Murphy's side. An angry gasp for air left his lips as the boy loosened the rope around his neck. Her fingers worked quickly to undo the gag around his mouth while in the background, she could hear Bellamy taking Charlotte away from the situation.
"Can you breathe?" She asked him, fingers going to his neck, feeling the indentations of the rope.
"I'm gonna fucking kill that little bitch!" He screamed in response, trying to get up.
Cleo pushed him back down, looking over her shoulder to see if Charlotte was gone. "No, you're not. You're gonna breathe and you're gonna gather yourself first."
