Tris POV

"Beatrice why don't you go to youth group gathering," my mom says over dinner. My father looks at me hopefully. All the attention makes me uncomfortable and squirm in my seat and stop chewing on my potatoes.

I quickly shake my head no. I hate it when they try to get me to be social, knowing I have lots of problems with social situations.

I know they don't say it but I know my parents think I'm disappointing. I have always been shy, awkward, quiet, and all around not extraordinary. Unlike my brother who is a total extrovert. Funny, handsome, athletic, and a total asshole to me.

He always saw me as an easy target. He would tease me, say awful things to me which caused me to develop a lot of the anxieties I have. But my parents have never noticed the malice in his seemingly harmless comments, his glares of disgust he throws at me whenever I speak. Now I mostly just keep my mouth shut.

"Why not sweetie," my mom says trying to hide her frustration. I part my lips to speak then I catch a glimpse of my brother's malicious stare and my mouth goes dry.

"I-I just don't want to," I look down at my lap. My mom bits the inside of her cheek.

"Beatrice I can't understand why you can't just get over yourself and do something you don't want to," my mom says and picks her plate up and storms into the kitchen followed by my dad. My brother smirks at me.

"Yeah Beatrice get over yourself," Caleb snickers. I sigh shakily before getting up and going to my room.

I close my room and swallow the lump in my throat that is always there after dinner.

I over to my desk and continue cutting out pictures related to Travis Scott. There my favorite band and I want to work up the courage to go to one of his concerts.

I was murmuring Apple Pie while cutting out a picture of the album Rodeo, when I look over on my floor at some socks that aren't mine. They're my mom's so being in a slightly better mood since dinner I pick them up and go to put them in my parents room.

I get to the door and I get ready to open it when I hear my mom's voice," I just don't understand why she can't just be like Caleb?,"

"I don't know Natalie l think we should get her a therapist or someone to help support her," my dad suggest.

"No there's nothing wrong with Beatrice she's just selfish," my mom insists.

Nothing's wrong with me? Is she a moron?

I've barely spoken to anyone since I was ten, I am completely lonely, I have ZERO friends, I'm socially awkward, my brother tortures me mentally. But nothing's wrong with me.

Is she blind?

I go back to my room and continue my cutting. I have to stop in the middle of my cutting because my mom's words keep swirling in my head and my anxiety starts bubbling up and my hands start to shake.

I take a deep breath and feel the lump in my throat and the pain in my chest. I go curl up in my bed and cry myself to sleep.

PAGE BREAK~

In the morning after we eat breakfast my brother drives us to school. As we pull up to the school my chest feels weighed down a little.

We park and my brother turns to me and says cruel tone," maybe you'll make your first friend today,"

He gets out while i swallow my tears. After a second I get out and start for the front of the school.

I walk past people with their friends, boyfriends, or people who are just walking along not paying much attention to anything.

I wonder how many of them are as anxious about being here as I am. My heart clenches and my hand shakes as I pull the door open.

I make my way to my first period slowly lingering in the hallway before slipping inside my first hour. I sit at the back corner and put my head down on the desk.

I slowly breathe to bring my heart rate down to a normal level. Soon students pour in and they take their seats.

I wonder if they even know that I exist. I feel completely invisible, but I don't really mind it I'd rather no one talk to me than have to converse with a stranger.

Soon class is over and I walk with my head down in the hallway to my next class. That class is the same I sit in the corner and disappear.

Soon lunch rolls around and my chest constricts. I hate going to lunch, I hate the people the noise, sitting alone. The funny thing is that I am anxious about eating alone but I'm anxious about eating with someone. One of the side effects of anxiety, you're not very rational.

After I get my plate I look around at the tables,the jocks talking sports and who's tits they saw over the weekend, wannabes flipping their hair and smoothing their blowouts, nerds doing homework, douche bags laughing and harassing the nerds, cheerleaders seeing who's stomach looks flatter in their crop tops, stoners crushing up marijuana in their mashed potatoes, sex crazed freaks making out and fingering each other under the table. A typical lunch hour at my school.

I find one empty table and sigh in relief. I sit down and start eating my potatoes.

I must have been lost in thought because soon a voice knocks me back to reality,"um you're at our table,"

How could I forget, the popular kids, the top of the popularity scale, the most handsome and beautiful Roth High has to offer. The ones you want to be but you can't because you're simply not them.

I gulp as my heart rate spikes,"I-I'm sorry I didn't realize,"

I gather my things quickly and walk off towards the courtyard. I rush outside and sit against the wall.

My heart is still fluttering. I swallow and close my eyes.

How could I not have realized that it was the popular table? Stupid stupid stupid, pay attention Beatrice!

I sit against the wall of the courtyard for the rest of lunch not daring to move in fear that maybe someone will come out and mock me for sitting at the popular table.

When the bell rings I toss my tray away and head to my next class.

By the time the day is over I'm just ready to go home. I meet Caleb by the entrance of the school.

I wait patiently by the door for him to finish talking to one of his friends. I look around at the kids being picked up by parents, others hanging around, some trying to leave in their cars.

I happen to catch a glimpse of the populars. I see one of them, Thomas, Toby, I don't remember. He's quite handsome, I think for a second before Caleb comes over distracting me.

"Wow you got it through the day without a panic attack, great job Beatrice," My brother tells me while smirking maliciously. He pats my back harder than needed before walking off.

I take a deep breath and follow him thinking about lunch repeating Caleb in my head, "great job Beatrice"

A/N: Wow I haven't written in a long time, I forgot how relaxing it is. So I deleted two of my stories because I'm dedicating myself to this story only so sorry if you were reading it…

But review please tell me what you think. I really turned this story's Tris into someone I feel like can really be related to in different ways including to myself as I used to have anxiety and I just poured it into Tris and the life I created for her.