Authors Note: Hi! This is a short story I wrote for an English assessment. I didn't have a lot of time, and I didn't want to make it too complicated, so a few things aren't the same as the book. E.g Tobias is always Tobias, never Four, and there is no such option as factionless. The name at the beginning of the chapter is the person whose point of view it is from. Hope you enjoy it, sorry if I got any of it wrong, and please, please rate/review! Thanks!
TRIS
It was dark, black as night, save for the few candles we were holding. The sound of the fast flowing water under the chasm roaring in our ears, the sensation of the salty spray, tickling at our faces. I looked around at the solemn faces of my friends, my hand tightly holding Will's, but he wasn't the only one who needed comforting. My eyes met with Tobias, his face beautifully illuminated by candlelight. He gave me a soft, sad smile, and I bit down on my lip. I couldn't break down; it wasn't fair on Will.
Eric, a Dauntless faction leader, had forbidden us to hold a funeral for Christina; he wanted to keep the whole thing hushed up, but this didn't stop Will and I from gathering a few close friends – Uriah, Al and Tobias, among others. We were going to celebrate her life, and we wouldn't be stopped. Tobias' voice rose above the noise of the chasm.
"Christina. What can we say about Christina?", he began confidently. I put my arm around Will's shoulders as I heard him break down beside me.
"She was a great friend, and one of the best initiates I have ever had the pleasure to instruct. She made everybody laugh, and everybody smile, and she never backed down. She was so courageous and selfless; she is such a terrible loss. But she will be remembered, for years to come. Rest in peace, Christina."
Never once did he falter, Tobias was so strong, both physically and emotionally. I had trust in him not to break down and to do me – and Christina – proud.
Once he'd finished, he came to stand with Will and I, slipping his arms around my waist and Will's shoulders. I leaned into him, grateful for his support. We didn't speak, just stood there and thought of our dear friend, Christina. I suddenly recalled a quote I had once read somewhere: 'Darkness, real darkness, is something more than just lack of light'. It fit this situation perfectly.
Will took out a piece of white, lined paper, ripped in several places, due to constant scrunching and smoothing out in obvious anguish and grief. A tear slipped down my cheek and fell down, over the bar, straight into the bawling, vociferous, thunderous chasm .