Post by Deleted on Feb 12, 2017 23:25:40 GMT
Jasper wasn't talking to Monty. How could his best friend--his brother--have done what he did? Jasper wasn't talking to Clarke, either, but that was because she apparently decided to run away instead of face what she did. Fucking coward. Bellamy... had tried to help him out a few nights ago, but that had only felt good while it lasted, and Jasper wasn't in the mood for more of it. Besides, Jasper didn't want to talk too anyone anyway, so he was avoiding everyone. He tipped the bottle of moonshine back and drained it's contents.
Walking was becoming difficult. It was late, and most people were asleep, except for mostly guards. He would just... sit down for a bit... rest, and then get up and go to his bed where he could pass out. Passing out, rather than falling asleep, because falling asleep meant the dreams would come, and Jasper couldn't handle the dreams anymore. They'd started after he'd been speared, but were manageable. They even got better for a bit after he'd been taken to Mount Weather but now... they were unbearable.
So he sat in the dirt, head hanging before he decided he'd be more comfortable laying down. He sprawled back on his back, blinking slowly up at the stars, trying to fight the pull of alcohol-induced sleep by starting to sing--or rather slur--some song from Maya's iPod softly. "--can't relax.... Can't sleep 'cause my bed's on fiiiire..."
Tag: Nathan Miller
Walking was becoming difficult. It was late, and most people were asleep, except for mostly guards. He would just... sit down for a bit... rest, and then get up and go to his bed where he could pass out. Passing out, rather than falling asleep, because falling asleep meant the dreams would come, and Jasper couldn't handle the dreams anymore. They'd started after he'd been speared, but were manageable. They even got better for a bit after he'd been taken to Mount Weather but now... they were unbearable.
So he sat in the dirt, head hanging before he decided he'd be more comfortable laying down. He sprawled back on his back, blinking slowly up at the stars, trying to fight the pull of alcohol-induced sleep by starting to sing--or rather slur--some song from Maya's iPod softly. "--can't relax.... Can't sleep 'cause my bed's on fiiiire..."
Tag: Nathan Miller
