I can't remember what day it is anymore, nor do I know what it's like outside. My days have become monotonous and boring. If it weren't for spending almost the entire day in front of a window, I wouldn't be able to tell the time. It's as if I've become glued to the chair. My dark circles have become my companions, and numbness a part of me. Sleepless nights are torture, and insomnia is slowly killing me, so I gave up trying to sleep. Thus, not only are the days a torment, but the nights are too.

I've lost an incredible amount of weight, I can't take a single bite without running to the bathroom to vomit. I stopped crying, either because I've run out of tears or due to a lack of water intake. I don't remember my voice anymore, I haven't uttered a word since I've been in this place. I don't go out to avoid talking, and at this point, I abhor the company of others.

The door opened abruptly, as it usually does once a day. But this time it was different. Their footsteps sounded imposing, without the usual sigh upon seeing that I hadn't eaten.

"I'm sick of you. I won't tolerate another act of your depressive antics." he said, his large hand gripping my wrist and yanking me up from the chair so quickly it made my head spin. "You stink and you don't eat, so you're going to take a bath and eat outside." Norman growled as he continued to drag me toward the bathroom.

"I remind you that I can't go to the dining room."I replied, my voice hoarse, weak, and bitter.

"Outside, as in at the damn table, not in this room. You're going to start attracting bugs into the house." He shoved me into the bathroom and blocked the doorway. "You've been in that filthy outfit for three damn months, Grace. Bathe and change, everything you need is on the toilet." He closed the door with a certain violence.

Three months.

That's a long time, and if I think about it, he's right. I stink, and I only confirmed it when I started taking off the clothes I had on, noticing the blood on them that was Hill's.

I took the time to look at the splatters of dried blood, and a tear rolled down my cheek.

Hill.

God, I don't want to cry anymore.

I turned on the shower and entered without caring about the temperature. It was freezing, but that helped me stay still and let the water completely soak me. My gaze lost itself in the white tile while I faintly heard children laughing and playing through the small window above.

I am being punished.

Well, let's say I'm being held against my will at Norman's house because of my continuous acts of violence when I wake up and basically whenever I had the chance.

It's a prison when I have to spend time with my father, especially since we have the same character and I'm no longer the little girl he raised. That's why I preferred to stay in the room with the intention of dying from starvation and sadness, but Norman refuses to see me die.

Joana has me here, according to her, "for my own good." Although it's really just to keep the other Amity calm, as they started to get upset by the acts I committed and they witnessed.

My memories are vague, I can hardly remember what happened. I try to recall, and there was blood, a lot of blood, screams, and scolding. All I had to do was wake up, find myself at Norman's house, and rage consumed me.

"They told me not to let you leave, so don't." he said with a hint of irony in his words.

As expected, I didn't listen and left in search of a couple of people. I found Tris, and I don't remember much after that.

I hit her so many times that I think I broke her wrist, or maybe it was her arm, and her nose. Four intervened, but my rage was stronger than his strength. I attacked him too until Norman arrived and managed to control me.

"Did you want me to leave you there? Huh? You would have died if I hadn't taken you out of that place!"

"That's what I wanted! To try to kill Max and die trying. I'd rather be dead than be a damn outcast, a pariah that everyone hunts!"

Joana was angry, but she gave me another chance. However, when they had to hide us under a house while the Dauntless were searching for us, my outburst of rage happened again. I had to stay next to Tris and Four for at least two hours. I can only say that this time I made sure to break a bone.

That was the last straw for Joana, and now she has me locked up in Norman's house. At first, Norman found my behavior amusing. He laughed and seemed fascinated by my outbursts, he had never seen me like that until I became a problem for him. But the conversation I overheard a while ago was a surprise, a conversation Norman had with Four and how he defended me.

"How could you leave her to die?"

"That's exactly what you should have done. Knocking her out was the best decision the other guy made. You should have turned a blind eye and run far from Dauntless."

"She's your daughter..."

"And that's why I understand her anger. In her shoes, I would have beaten them all too. She wanted to die, you should have ignored what you refuse to admit and left her."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah, right."

I didn't know what he refused to admit, but I didn't pay it much attention. That conversation made me feel a certain way—protected by my father.

Now I'm a pariah, someone who has to look around nervously. I'm being hunted by Dauntless, my face is everywhere in the city. They accuse me of the attack on Abnegation, and if I think about it, I really did have something to do with it. I made it possible. The difference is that Jeanine washed her hands of it and blamed Tris and Four.

Death would make me happy, it's the solution to all my problems. I've lost everything.

I don't know where Horus is. I hope Eric has a bit of compassion and feeds him, or at least that someone takes care of him. I feel like scum for neglecting my cat. I shouldn't have left. Maybe I should have set him free with the hope that he would follow me.

I don't know where Uriah is. I'm terrified something has happened to the girls. I blame myself for that. I shouldn't have left them alone, I should have stayed by their side. Maybe Hill would still be alive, too.

I have no plan. There's nothing good in my mind other than the barrel at my forehead and my desired death.

I stepped out of the shower, completely clean, smelling of the coconut shampoo that Norman had in the bathroom, and my skin scented with lavender from the bar of soap. I dried myself with a towel and put on the orange Amity clothes. That's what I have to do now—pretend that I belong with them.

I left the bathroom with my hair still damp but free of any tangles. I shuffled my feet towards the table where Norman was sitting.

"Stop dragging your feet and walk properly." he ordered with a growl.

"Let me die in my room, and we can both avoid this unpleasant moment together." I replied, sitting across from him with a serious expression.

"No, then you'll stink up the house with your corpse." he said, frowning. "Eat now, I want the damn plate empty."

I'm going to miss Dauntless's meat.

On my plate was an apple salad for dessert. The main dish was white rice with corn and a stew of bell peppers with mushrooms. There was an orange cut into four pieces and a bunch of grapes.

Norman was in front of me, a book in hand, absorbed in his reading. His brow was slightly furrowed, and he occasionally sipped from a cup that smelled like chamomile.

"Aren't you going to eat?" I asked in a whisper.

He looked up from his book. "I already did. Unlike you, I'm not being punished and can go out to eat like everyone else." he replied, then lowered his gaze back to his book. "By the way, Caleb sends his regards. I think he still feels guilty for knocking you unconscious." he added with a nasal laugh.

I rolled my eyes and popped a grape into my mouth to savor its sweetness. I chewed it slowly, noticing the absence of seeds. I ate it cautiously, trying not to feel nauseous or the urge to vomit.

But that didn't happen. Instead, my stomach reacted to the grape, starting to growl, demanding more. The noise was loud enough for Norman to look up quickly.

Maybe I needed a shower, to get out of the room and feel the fresh air for my stomach to finally accept food. I was very thin, so I allowed myself to devour the plate and drink the water.

My mind was my worst enemy, and when I thought I had forgotten about it, it would bring up the person I didn't want to think about. My thoughts forced me to remember Eric. What is he doing right now?

I hope he's okay. I hope he forgives me and understands that I acted according to my nature. My Abnegation side would never allow me to watch innocent people die.

I hate loving him because, despite the pain, I still do. I live on memories, and even though we are now on opposing sides, I still cling to him. To the boy I loved and who protected me.

I looked up at the man who gave me life. His features had always been harsh, and his furrowed brow was a part of him, so much so that the wrinkles were deeply marked. He had become bitter. Living here disturbed him, and happiness tried his patience, but his madness never consumed him. He remained steadfast, and though his parenting was never ideal, he managed to live without my mother. Despite what he might show, he still loved her.

"Did you manage to forget about Freya when you got here?" I asked.

Norman looked up, eyebrow raised, glaring at me with annoyance, even offense at such a question.

"Eat." he ordered without answering.

"I will if you answer me." I countered.

"Your nutritional health is not a priority to me. I'm not falling for your blackmail." he shrugged indifferently.

"Fine, I'll go back to my room." I said, ready to ignore my hunger to preserve my pride.

He sighed exasperatedly. "Sit down." he grumbled.

I sat back down, meeting his eyes as I popped a grape into my mouth. "I'm listening." I encouraged before chewing the grape.

"What do you want to know?" he asked, resigned.

"Did you love Freya?" I inquired.

"Yes." he answered casually, nodding without any shame.

"How did you manage to forget her?" I asked.

He raised an eyebrow, blinking several times at the question, then glanced away, seemingly searching for an answer. A grimace formed on his face.

"I don't think I ever did." he muttered hoarsely.

"You always showed the opposite. I never saw a hint of weakness. You hated it when I mentioned my mother. I stopped asking about her because there was so much hatred in you." I continued.

Judging by his expression, he looked like he wanted to hit me, to lash out at the daughter challenging him with her gaze and questions—ones she had never dared to ask in her sixteen years by his side.

"Unlike you, Grace, I didn't lock myself in a room crying for three months. I grew up, I raised a baby who wouldn't stop crying because she missed her mother's breastfeeding. I never showed weakness for my own good, or even yours." he said.

There was a certain empathy in his eyes that I had never seen before. He was making an effort because he knew I was hurt by a man who wasn't the hero of the story, and I think he understood that.

"I don't want Eric to die." I said.

He rolled his eyes. "Use them to your advantage, make them your allies so that none of them hurt you or that fool you have as a boyfriend. But your effort will be in vain if at the end of the day, he chooses to join them even when you're on the other side. You'll have to strike." he pronounced.

"He loves me and would never..."

"Max also told your mother that, and at the first betrayal, I wouldn't doubt he wanted to send her to the stake. Eric only knows one school and that's Max and Jeanine. You are the only enemy and it can be stronger than the pathetic love they had." he sighed. "Mature, start figuring out what you really want and what you're willing to fight for. Now, eat and water the damn plants."

That was the last thing he said before getting up and walking out the front door, I suppose to finally be able to read his book in peace. He's telling me to mature, and I can interpret that as him asking me to set aside my love for Eric and start forming my own convictions. I don't see anything wrong with that, in fact, he's right.

But it's not easy. I suppose being here will help me finally figure out what I really want and need. I don't want to live in fear of being killed for being divergent, and I can't allow others who are also divergent to be killed.

Taking advantage of those below us only creates factional division. Showing others that you don't care only breeds conflict. I don't want that; I want respect and discipline. If they stopped seeing divergents as a threat, things could be different.

Jeanine and Max are my obstacles, they must die along with their followers. The problem is Eric, as I truly hope he won't be an obstacle too.