❛ i know what i’ve done. ❜ you don’t mean the outburst, or the way your fingers curl up into fists, threatening to bruise the perfect porcelain skin that covers your sister. you shoulder the guilt of your actions every second of the day. you hear the screams, the cries for help as you run from the inferno of the place you once called home. you remember your father’s face when this all started, the hope that he could find a way to make the world safe again before being thrown to the dead like he was nothing but a dog treat, ton to pieces in minutes. you don’t tell spencer that you put a bullet in his brain when you found him again, choking on his own blood, but clawing at you for yours.
she knows that she let her people die. that they trusted her, and she was unable to save them from the fire that ate up everything they had ever known. being on the road wasn’t new for clarke, but it wasn’t ideal. it was unsafe, being out in the open like this, exposed to more threats than usual. the remaining few found it hard to follow her, after she had failed to get more people to safety, ❛ should i remind you that you brought them to us in the first place, little sister ? ❜ she should have known they were no good, but she had trusted spencer’s instincts, they were good, under normal circumstances. yet, she wasn’t blaming spencer for any of what had happened, clarke had let them in, welcomed them to their home and treated them as if they were family. she had given them jobs and responsibilities that gave them the information they needed. she had taken their leader prisoner all those months ago. she had killed him as a warning sign to his people not to mess with her, killed him in return for killing over 50 of her people alone, ❛ . . . i know what i did. ❜ / @grffins