*** WARNING: This is a very intense chapter that could be upsetting to some due to suicidal themes in the form of a memory. If you begin to read but feel uncomfortable by any means, skip over the section that is italicized (there's also a little period as a signal where the memory is over). Skipping over this italicized part that is put in the perspective of a memory will not result in confusion for the plot in the future so please do not let that be your motivation to read uncomfortably.***

Chapter 42 - Alone

Tris

"Beatrice." He says. I cannot see, but judging by the sound of his footsteps, I know it's David. "Beatrice. Why don't you look at me when I am talking to you?"

I hide in my arms, the nerves in my body awaiting the sting of some kind of object.

He beats me daily.

Takes advantage of my mother every other day.

Threatens to kill my family weekly.

Denies my desire to die hourly.

"Just kill me. I want to die." I sob.

I wish I could be strong and not show that he has gotten to me.

I wish I couldn't let him win so easily.

But I just can't.

I can't take it anymore.

"That's good, Beatrice. I've told you many times though. Good things come to those who wait."

"I can't take it anymore." I croak, barely whispering.

"Tell me, Beatrice. If I were to kill you, right here, right now, what would your last words be?" He bends down closer to my level of laying on the ground.

"Trust can be easily gained, but it also can be easily lost. At one point in my life, I trusted you, David. Just remember that."

"You brought this on yourself, Beatrice."

"What? Being born? I know that's what your pissed about, David."

"Going against me, sending yourself to your own death, having the ability to defy death serum--"

"All happened because I was born."

"SHUT UP!" He yells.

"I don't mind flirting with death anymore."

"Glad to hear." He sneers.

"Shoot me, I dare you."

"Oh, how Dauntless of you, Beatrice."

"Shoot me, David. You know you want me dead. It's all you've ever wanted."

"You're not getting off that easy, Beatrice."

"What ever happened to that wheelchair I pushed you around in once? Not crippled anymore?"

"I'm much smarter than you."

"I surely never denied that."

"Sounds like you are."

"So what? What are you going to do? Shoot me? Kill me? Burry me alive?"

"Eventually."

"SHOOT ME!"

"SINCE WHEN DO YOU DECIDE YOUR OWN FATE?"

"SHOOT ME! YOU KNOW YOU KNOW YOU WANT ME DEAD!"

"Tell me, Beatrice. Why should I shoot you?"

"I'm in pain. I can't walk, yet alone stand. I can't see straight. I can't eat, sleep, and barely breathe. I'm a waste of space, and might as well be dead flesh. I want to die. Please, David. I've never wanted anything more. Kill me."

"I'm not going to kill you just yet, Beatrice."

"KILL ME."

"No."

"I'll just have to do it myself then."

"No you won't."

"PLEASE. KILL ME."

He shakes his head no, and my body is no longer mine to control.

I scream maniacally, sobbing, screaming until my lungs burn.

My mind screams at me to stop, but my body doesn't.

I have lost all control.

"If you don't kill me RIGHT NOW, I will, and I'm not kidding, I will kill myself." My voice lowers and I do not even recognize it.

I sound like a possessed killer.

"I will not kill you, and nor will you kill yourself, Beatrice."

"I'm giving you one last chance."

"No."

I scream again, my hands pulling on my hair.

I feel my scalp bleed, but my body doesn't stop. I pull myself to the back wall, unable to stand or walk.

I scream again, laying my two hands on the wall.

My brain screams at me, 'What are you doing?! No! No! No!'

My body has lost all control.

I bash my head into the wall.

Hard.

If he won't end it for me, I'll end it for me.

"Get her out of here! She can't die! Don't let her!" I hear his muffled screams for help.

I bash my head into the wall again as tiny white stars dance in my vision.

I scream, sobs wracking my body as I take the blow to my skull one last time before a bullet is fired.

I feel the familiar burning sensation of a bullet in the back of my left calf, and I fall backwards from the wall in agony.

I cannot feel my head.

I do feel the blood drip down my cheeks though.

"Will she bleed out?" I hear David ask someone.

"Possibly, but I think she'll come close to but never actually bleed out completely. You'll have to keep an eye on her." A familiar male voice replies.

David grunts.

My heart hammers in my chest and leg, and as the feeling returns to my head, my pulse hammers my skull twice as hard as my leg.

I keep my eyes shut tight, scared of what I'll see if I open them.

Blood drips from my skull onto my eyelid.

Why have I not died yet?


.



Gasping, my heart races as I awake from the memory.

A memory I never knew I had.

I have to run.

I don't want to die right now like I did then.

My surroundings are dark, but I see clearly that the light is on above me.

I look around, my heart racing in terror.

I don't know this new room.

Where can I hide?

I'm not safe here.

What do I do?

I roll from the bed, not thinking about where my bad leg will land or what I will land on.

The floor is soft, almost like foam, but that doesn't stop me from screeching when a burning sensation shoots up my leg from the impact of the soft floor.

I drag myself under my bed just as the door bursts open.

He's found me.

He's found me.

I'm going to die here.

I push myself up against the light royal blue wall, my body shaking uncontrollably in pure terror.

"Tris." I recognize the voice as the man that brought me here. "Please come out from under the bed. It's alright. You're safe here. No one here's going to hurt you."

"No." I breathe.

I don't think they heard me, but I am lucky I can speak that much.

"Tris. It's dangerous under the bed. There's a lot of wires and pieces of metal you could hurt yourself on." A new, calming female voice soothes. "Come on out so you don't get hurt."

I lay down on the floor, the softness of it not feeling soothing.

I miss the coldness of the cement on the floor of my cell.

It made me feel safer for some strange reason.

This floor, it's just not real.

It's just a soft fluffy layer between me and reality.

I tremble, the fear of being so venerable making me cower.

"Beatrice."

"Beatrice." I hear David's voice.

I scream.

My lungs on fire, my voice squeaking until no sound leaves my mouth.

My throat is numb, yet it stings as it tingles.

"Tris. You're hurting your vocal cords screaming like that. If you ever want to talk again, you shouldn't scream like that." The woman says slowly as if I can't understand her.

Only if I could help it.

"Tris. Whatever has scared you, we can't help unless you come out and let us help. Come out from under the bed."

I try to say no, but my throat is numb and my voice is absolutely dead.

I look to my left from under the slightly raised bed to see that the door is slightly cracked.

Outside the door is nice, smooth, hard grey tile.

If I slip under the side of the bed, I can hopefully drag myself quick enough to get to the tile.

To get to the feeling of safety.

I look towards the foot of the bed and my heart skips a beat when I see a female face looking at me from the foot of the bed.

I try to scream, but a tiny squeak comes from my lips as I jump back lightly.

"She's eying the door." The woman says quietly to the man.

Little do they know, I can hear quite well.

"Let her go. See what she's after. She doesn't have a band on yet anyways." He says quietly again.

Well, okay then.

I slip from under the bed and use my two arms and one leg to drag myself down the tiny hallway that leads to the cracked door.

I nudge the door open quickly with my hand and get out of the room and into an open hallway. It is extremely cold and a steady breeze is flowing down the hall, making me shiver.

There's too many places to watch.

Someone could come at me from any angle.

"She's scared of the open area. You can just tell." The man whispers.

The cool tile hits my shivering body and despite my coldness, the hardness of the tile makes me feel safe.

I press my face to the tile, ignoring the rushing halls around me.

I put my arms over my head and sigh.

I know I'm not safe here.

For the moment, I just don't care.

"Is it the heat of the room that she didn't like?" The woman asks, whispering.

"Or was it too small? But she's also scared of the open area so it shouldn't be that." The man whispers back.

"Look at how she has her face to the floor." She whispers. "I think it's the floor in the room that made her uncomfortable."

"I think you're right." He says. "Maybe we can try moving her to one of the other rooms that has a floor bed, and also one with a hard floor. That way, she can roll off the bed and into the hard surface without hurting herself."

The woman's hums a response of a yes.

"Please get your patient back into her area. I don't want mine freaking out over her presence." I jump at the sound of a new, other female voice across the hall.

"Of course. Sorry." The man says, walking over towards me.

His hand skims my cast on my leg and I jolt away from him.

I don't want him near my leg.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Tris. You just have to go back into your room." He says, attempting to pick me up.

My mind flashes to David carrying me through the halls of that building like a little puppy in his arms, unable to walk.

I screech, dragging myself back into the room and away from the man's grasp.

"That works." He closes the door behind me, nor him or the woman following me.

But I shake with fear, being in such a huge room by myself.

I'm alone.

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