The 100: Emily Ashwood

"I haven't down anything!" I scream, "let me go!" They're going to float me. I flail my arm out with force, trying to throw a punch. The guard flinches with fear clouding his eyes, "you're going to earth, all of you," he grabs my arm. My heart feels like its plummeting to my feet. We're going to the ground... My name is Emily Ashwood. Number 75.

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9. I'm A Bit Of A Mess

I sit in camp by the fire, thinking about Amanda. She has to be okay. It's pretty cold tonight but I'm not bothered really. I also can't stop thinking about Jasper. I can't believe what I did. What was I thinking? He doesn't even know me. Ugh. And Amanda. What if the grounders have killed her? What do I do then? I realise Paul and Eilidh are sitting at the other side of the fire. I glare at them. After a while, she strides over to me.

"What do you want?" I ask.

"Why do you hate Paul?" She snaps.

"Why do you care?" I snap back.

"Because I'm trying to save your friend and Paul is mucking it all up." She argues.

"Fine that idiot is the reason my father was locked up," I lose it, "he said my dad was insane and that he was in no fit state to live in public." I snap at her.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know." She says quietly. I can tell she feels bad.

"Obviously you didn't, my mom had mental health issues and was floated. Why were you jailed?" I ask trying to be civil.

"My family hid me under the bed for sixteen years." She confesses "We've both had tough lives. We should talk more often."

"Sure sounds good." I smile. She gets up and sits back next to Paul. She slaps him hard and people start to shout "fight fight fight," she drags him off. Uh-oh. I stay put. I head into the dropship.

"Hi Clarke," I smile, tired. She looks up from her work and smiles. I look at Jasper who is struggling for breath. She should give herself a rest. I know that she has to keep Jasper alive but she looks too tired. And upset.

"Are you okay?" I ask her, putting my hand on her shoulder. She nods but I know she's not okay.

"What about you? Are you okay?" She asks me. I nod.

"I'm tired and my stomach hurts but I'm fine," I answer, "I miss Amanda," she sighs. I think she understands me.

"You should get some sleep," she tells me.

"You should too," I smile and then leave the dropship. I find myself a makeshift bed. Letting myself drift off, I wait for the nightmares to come. However tonight, no terror comes...

"Good morning," I'm awoken by a boys voice. He sounds in pain. I try to open my eyes but it's too bright. The boy sits beside me on my bed, shielding my face from the bright sun. I finally get my eyes open. Wait.. It's Jasper. My heart almost stops. I sit up abruptly next to him.

"What're you doing up?" I demand. He sighs. Even his sighs sound sore.

"I asked Clarke if I could come and see you," he admits.

"And she just let you go?" I question. Let's be real Clarke doesn't do that.

"Okay okay, I begged her," he confesses. I squeal inside. What's wrong with me? I can't like him THAT much.

"I'm very touched, Jasper but you have to go back to bed," I tell him.

"I will but we have to talk," he tries to convince me to let him stay up, "just to be clear, you did kiss me the other day right?" He asks me.

I feel my face burning up, "yes," I awkwardly admit. He nods.

"Just incase I was having a weird dream," He kind of laughs. My face is red, I can tell. He opens his mouth to continue but Clarke yells him back.

"Come and see me later," he tells me and tries to get up. I immediately stand up and try to help him. We both hobble over to the dropship. Clarke takes him in. I walk back to the makeshift bed and sigh. Great. He thinks I'm an idiot. Oh my god. I pull my old wooly jumper over my vest top. I get up and spot Eilidh. She looks upset. I wander over.

"I killed him.." She speaks. Her voice breaking. I nod. I understand why. I let it sink in. Paul is dead. She walks off. I sit back down. Amanda has to be okay.. Where is Monty? What am I going to do about Jasper...

"Wells is dead," I hear someone talking. My mouth drops. I lean back a bit trying to hear, "he was murdered,"

That's another dead.. We've all got to stop...

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