Chapter 11
PROMPT: Things you said in the dark.
“I’m freaking out, guys.”
“Don’t freak out, Raven.”
“It’s too late. The freak-out has already begun. I’m like a full minute deep, at least, into this freak-out.”
“The lights are just out,” Clarke says. “It’s not a big deal. Just take a breath.”
“The lights are out during a thunderstorm,” Raven counters, “and it’s fucking Friday the 13th.”
Clarke throws popcorn in Raven’s direction, though she can’t quite see her. The power went out a few minutes earlier, right in the middle of a horror-movie marathon (how appropriate). She hears the sound of Raven chomping on the kernel a few seconds after she throws it.
“Thanks.”
“That wasn’t supposed to be a nice gesture,” Clarke says, laughing.
“It made me feel better, though,” Raven tells her, “for like a second, anyway. Now I’m just freaking out again.”
Clarke groans. “Seriously, stop. You’re starting to make me freak out, and I was totally fine before this.”
“I can’t stop, Clarke.” Raven’s tone is comically serious. “I’m somewhere around 93-percent certain that we’re about to get murdered by a psycho hiding in our shower or something.”
“For fuck’s sake!” Clarke snaps. “Lexa, tell her to stop!”
When no reply comes, Clarke feels a lump begin to build in her throat. “Lexa?”
Clarke feels Raven’s hands fumble around on the couch before grabbing onto her arm and pulling her closer. “See?” she whispers. “They already got Lexa.”
“That’s not funny.” Clarke pinches Raven. “She probably just went to the bathroom.”
“The bathroom is where the killer is!” Raven hisses, and Clarke clamps a hand over Raven’s mouth.
“Seriously, stop!” She calls out again for Lexa. “Lexa! This is not funny. Stop fucking around!”
When Lexa pops up from the floor a second later, grabbing them both, Clarke screams like she actually is being slaughtered, and Raven jumps clear off the couch and runs down the hall into the bedroom, shouting all the way.