Chapter Text
The warm wind swirled itself around the petite body, twirling the soft blonde locks within. Her lips curved upwards into a gentle smile, her eyes closing as she enjoyed the lovely feeling of the summer breeze. Clarke gave out a long sigh of relief. She loved the changing seasons of a year but summer was her absolute favorite.
Opening her eyes again, she let her fingers caress the green ground beneath her, tickling herself with the head of the grass. Her blue eyes averted itself quickly to her hands as she felt some weird material, something harder than the familiar sensitivity.
Crooking her eyebrows, she picked up the folded paper and analyzed it. It was neatly folded, the white paper yet crumbled on a few places. It was probably lying next to her for a while now. The sheet of paper was so thin that made the blonde spot a very neat handwriting. She quickly unfolded the paper, only to close it again, hesitating. It was probably a letter to someone, she thought but she knew that curiosity itched in her fingers. Pressing down her lips, she looked from left to right, searching for a confirmation that was acted out as a figure watching her actions or something like that. Scanning the area and seeing nothing that would stop her from giving all her attention back to this odd sheet of paper, Clarke quickly tailored her legs and unfolded the paper before her, revealing something she expected.
The writing was properly set on it yet sometimes it was cracking, as if the writer was holding too hard onto the pencil. The blonde furrowed her eyebrows as she noticed a few small very dry spots. Her index finger gently slid over the spots, realizing how brittle it had become yet it was a sunny day and the last rain which occurred was two weeks ago.
Swiftly, her eyes darted to the top of the material in her hands, she slowly began to read it in silence:
"I’m sitting here, alone. I feel like losing myself again and I’m afraid. This is slowly getting out of hand. I thought I had control over myself but it just keeps happening. I can’t tell anybody and I don’t want to tell anyone either. What am I suppose to do with my feelings, with my thoughts? They don’t shut up, they tell me to go on, to cut deeper. I can’t do this, I don’t want to lose this battle. Or am I already losing it? I don’t know, I’m so confused, please fucking help me. I can’t go on, I’m so tired.
L. W."
By the time Clarke reached the end, she felt her chest tightening, something silently and repeatingly punching into her heart, the pain spreading slowly all over her body. Water slowly collected itself in her now glistening eyes, threatening to fall before she let out a quick breath that she was holding in the whole time, lips parting.
Her hands fiddled with the paper, rapidly folding it again and throwing it back to the spot she found it. Sitting in silence, she bent her legs up, hugging it tightly, giving herself a comforting, consoling embrace, eyes looking into the distance. Clarke needed to calm down, to rest, to sit there in silence. Maybe the letter was not meant for her but it had no addresses. Nothing, only L. W. and she was certain that nobody ever sits under this tree.
It was her favorite place to be in this blooming garden and she came here often but whenever she came here, the spot was not taken. Even if the garden was crowded in summer, people tend to get themselves an either sunny or a shadowed spot and to let them engulf in the beauty of the nature which the garden gives off. Her place was just an in between of sunshine and shadows, a perfect combination of both. But she never ever saw anyone occupying her place.
Moving her head to the side, her eyes fixed itself on the white neatly folded paper once again, her arms now crossing over her knees. Clarke sighed, knowing that her curiosity and pity will be the death of her but she still let her hands guide her to the paper, picking it up and unfolding it again.
Biting down on her lips, she mumbled:
“Who is L. W?”
End of Chapter 1