Author's Note: Haha, I don't even know why, but this depressing little one-shot popped into my head as I read the scene where Tris momentarily thought about killing herself in Insurgent. So, enjoy. Or don't. Whatever. Read and Review! Oh, and sorry for placing my other stories on hiatus. I just really don't have time to do multi-chapter stuff anymore :/
Thump, thump, thump, thump. My footsteps seem to echo in the hallway as I walk, matching my heartbeat. Thump, thump, thump. You know, it's funny how loud everything sounds when it's so quiet, how much everything stands out when there is no one crowding everywhere. It's a shame that I don't have much time to notice those kind of things, though. I didn't sneak out of bed this late at night to go sight-seeing in the Candor Headquarters. No, I know where I'm going; my feet automatically carry me there. 18th floor. Initiation room. I climb the stairs, my injured shoulder throbbing with each step, my legs and lungs burning, but I don't stop, not until I reach my destination.
I walk into the room, my eyes automatically wandering over to the chair. The chair. The one where I had to stay planted, high on truth serum, as I spilled my crushing secret. A gurgled laugh escaped my throat without my permission. No, it wasn't the fault of the truth serum. I wanted to tell someone about what I did to Will, one of my best friends. Not just someone, everyone. Christina, Tobias. The Dauntless, the Candor. Everyone. I couldn't keep it inside anymore; it was tearing me to pieces inside, weighing so heavily down on me. What I didn't realize was that after I spilled it, it would just make it worse. The hurt on Christina's face, the shock on Tobias's. It didn't relieve any of my pain; it just made it stronger. Everyone I loved and cared about was getting killed because of me. My parents, Will, my old and new faction members. It was all my fault. It still is my fault.
I walk over to the cursed wooden chair, that damned contraption, and immediately know what to do with it. I pick it up, carrying it across my room, over to the ledge. I place it where I know it needs to be, pushing it as far back as it goes, and use it to climb up onto the window ledge. I peer out the hole, looking to the city. It gives me no comfort. Instead, I think about Al, about he flung himself into the chasm. I didn't understand then, but I do now. I am in the same position myself, looking out over a great drop. I weigh my options, like I'm sure he did. Sure, I've done some brave things. Maybe I've helped some people. Maybe. But the good things don't even begin to compare to the bad things, the things that bubble up in my mind now, the horrid things that I blame myself for.
I tare my eyes from the city, now looking down at the ground 18 stories below me. I picture my parents in my head. They wouldn't want me to do it, what I'm thinking of doing. They sacrificed themselves for me, and what I am considering doing would be wasteful of that. It would not be selfless. I'm sure they would be disappointed, even my mother. I think of Tobias, and our fight earlier today. He may have been angry, but I know he wouldn't want me to do this. Screw him, the dark part of my mind whispers to me, and it's right. He must blame me for Will's death too, and my parents', even if he would never say it to my face. He must hate me for it, just as Christina does. Lastly, I think of Caleb, my brother. I think of how upset he was, and still is, after losing both our mother and father in the same night. I think of how badly it would affect him if I carry out with the plan that I keep repeating, over and over, in my scattered hell-hole of a brain. But, just as I did with Tobias, I push the memories and feelings of him out of my brain. Why? Why? Why? I ask myself continuously, but I know the answer. I've told myself a dozen times. I guess I just want to change it, but I can't.
It's because I'm not selfless. Hell, I'm selfish. Totally and completely. And for once, I'm okay with it. I feel no burning guilt, or anger. I don't feel upset for knowing that I never truly belonged in my old faction. Because you know what? Being divergent doesn't mean I fit in to more than one place. It just means that I fit in nowhere, with no one. I can't even relate to the other divergents, because we are all so different. And I think that deep down inside of me, have always known this. Tears brim in my eyes, and I let them fall. They are not sad tears. No. They are tears of joy, and a demented smile spreads across my face. I am happy. I have finally figured it all out, and I can finally be happy. What was it that Eric once said? It was after Al had been pulled out of the chasm, dead. Something about how death was a great journey. Jumping made Al dauntless. It made him a hero. And finally, I can be one too. I cast one last look over my shoulder, saying a quiet goodbye to the few people left that care about me, even though I know that they cannot hear me. Then, I slip off the ledge, plunging into the unknown. Selfish. Dauntless. A hero.