Story Drafts

John Murphy

OC Name- Farren Collins

Fandom- The 100

Editing Needed- 2/10

(Farren's P.O.V.)

"Zayden, say 'Mama'." I say to the giggling baby in my lap.

"Dada!" He squeals and I can't help but laugh.

"No, Zayden! Mama!" I tickle him and his laughter fills the cold, quiet cell.

"M-M-"

"Yeah, come on Zay! Mama!" I encourage him.

"M-Murphy!" He cheers and I grin.

"You definitely would've been a daddy's boy, huh?" I chuckle, bouncing him on my knee.

"He still might meet him one day, Farren." Octavia says from her bed where she was silently watching me and my son.

"O, the possibility is so slim." I sigh, looking at my cellmate. "John and I are 17. Soon enough, Zayden is going to be an orphan. I don't want to get his hopes up of meeting his dad because soon enough he's going to forget me too."

"I just don't want you to lose all hope."

"I don't think I ever will." I say, bouncing Zayden when he starts to make a fuss. "But I can't give that hope to Zayden. I can't crush his little heart like that."

"Mama!"

Octavia and I gasp, looking down at the giggling baby.

"What?" I laugh.

"Mama!" He repeats and Octavia and I start laughing, which quickly leads to me crying.

"Farren." Octavia whispers when she sees my tears.

"He's never going to be able to feel the joy of having your baby say your name." I cry.

"Oh, Farren." Octavia moves to sit beside me, pulling me and Zayden in for a hug.

"I'm sorry." I sigh. "It seems like all I do nowadays is cry."

"It's alright, Farren." Octavia says. "You're a teenage mother in prison with her baby, who is just learning to talk and walk, with no way to talk to or see your boyfriend. It's okay to cry."

"Thanks O." I chuckle.

"O!" Zayden cheers and Octavia looks ready to cry.

"It's alright to cry, O." I tease the girl with a nudge.

"Shut up." She mutters and I laugh.

-The Next Day-

Octavia and I are playing with Zayden on the ground when the door to our cell suddenly flies open, slamming into the wall.

"Prisoners 256, 257, and 258. Stand up and face the wall." The guard demands and we quickly obey, me holding Zayden. "Hold out your right arms."

We once again obey, and metal cuffs are placed on our arms. We let out sounds of pain at the needles that pierce the inside of our wrists.

"Hold out 258's arm." A guard demands, holding a tiny wristband.

"What's going on?" I ask, holding my son to my chest. "Why are you doing this?"

"Hold out his arm. Or I will." The guard demands and I fearfully hold out his slim arm. The guard clamps on the cuff and Zayden instantly starts crying, holding his arm against his body. "Come with us."

The guards take a hold of mine and Octavia's arms, leading us out of our cell.

"Where are you taking us?" Octavia demands. "We're 17 and Zayden is only 2. You can't float us. It's too early."