John Murphy: Childhood Bully

"What?! Bellamy no! No way in hell!" You seethed, trying your best to not scream. Bellamy's jaw clenches and he stares at you, clearly getting pissed of. Clarke moves in front of Bell, and raises a hand up to you.

"Now listen, I understand you don't like Murphy but-"

"Don't like Murphy? The little shit ruined my life, I hate the bastard!" You yell, gesturing wildly. "Why me anyway?! There are dozens of other tents to take."

"Y/n, if you'd just listen we'd tell you why." Clarke says remarkably calm, she pauses for a minute to take a deep breath while you stare at her, fury in your eyes.

"You are the only one in this camp who can handle him. He wouldn't dare hurt you, not too badly. If the worst does happen, you are the only one who can take him on and win. You are the safest bet to stick in a tent with him." She explains, and you scoff. You point your finger at her and speak in a low and threatening tone.

"You fix this, Griffin, I'm not sharing a tent with that shit head." You spit out the words and turn, storming out of the tent. Bellamy and Clarke had brought you in there to break the bad news, due to cut backs you'd have to share a tent with the famous John Murphy. You had grown up around him, he was actually a good kid but for some reason he had it out for you. In kindergarten, he cut off your ponytail. In first grade he stole your favorite markers. In second he spent the whole year taking food from your lunch. That went on for a couple of years, until the worst finally came. In seventh grade he told everyone in your class that you had slept with the teacher and three other boys in the grade below you. Of course this spread like wildfire, and soon every kid who saw you called you a slut, whore, and all sorts of other horrible names. Girls refused to be friends with you, moms hated you, boys refused to date you, they'd only try to sleep with you. It was hell. It was at the moment you had declared John Murphy your enemy, and you've hated him ever since.

Your boots stomped the ground, making a dull thud noise while you walked. You stormed over to your tent, and shoved yourself inside. You truly didn't think you could get any angrier, but what you found proved you wrong.

"BELLAMY!" You scream, rushing outside your tent, "BELLAMY FUCKING BLAKE GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE!"

Bellamy suddenly leaves the med tent and locks eyes with you. Pure fire in your eyes you rush at him.

"Where the hell is my stuff?!" You scream, trying to shove him. He catches you by the shoulders and hold you at arms length.

"In your new tent, Princess." A snarky voice breaks from behind you. You clench your jaw and turn slowly, meeting eyes with Murphy.

"My tent is empty." You seethe, and he smirks

"On the contrary, OUR, tent is quite full." He says pointing to the tent by the edge of the camp. You shove Bellamy's hands off you, and you push past Murphy. You were done arguing, you just wanted some damn peace.

-Nightfall-

"Aren't you going to say anything?"

Murphy asks, you can practically hear the smirk in his voice. With your back turned to him, you strip off your shirt and replace it with a hoodie. You ignore his question as you begin making your bed in the tent floor.

"What are you doing?" He speaks up again, and you roll your eyes.

"Going to bed, you should try it."

"Why on the floor? You're not sleeping on the floor." You scoff again, and throw your blankets down.

"Where the hell else am I going to sleep, jackass? They took my cot when they took my tent." You drop down on the thin blanket and pull the other one over your body. You turn your back to Murphy and close your eyes. Silence rains over you two, and you think you've actually won before he speaks up again.

"I'm sorry for what I did." He says softly, and if not for the years of torment you might have actually felt bad.

"Fuck you."

"I'm gonna make it up to you." He says, shifting around. You hear him get up, and the blankets ruffle around. You turn slightly to look at him in the dim light, and you see him making a bed on the ground. You choose to ignore whatever the hell he was doing and you turned back around, attempting to fall asleep.

He doesn't speak again for the rest of the night, at least not until you were well asleep. Almost an hour later, when Murphy was sure you were dead asleep, he quietly got up. He crept over to you and gently placed the blanket he had been sleeping under, on top of you. He looked down at you for a minute, regret washing over him as he thought of all the horrible things he had done to you. He never really hated you, not like he made it seem. The real reason he was so horrible was because he liked you, and that scared him. So he figured if he made you hate him, he would have to worry about it and it would fix itself.

"I'm gonna make it up to you." He whispers, pulling the blanket evenly over you.

"I promise."