Action, Reaction
Christina felt as if she herself had been shot. A cold sensation ran down her spine, her heart constricting, anger racing down and around her veins as she tried to comprehend it all.
Sounds were sticky in her ears; a hand, placed comfortingly on her shoulder, felt heavy and uncomfortable.
She closed her eyes and she saw a million different scenarios of how Will's death could have played out. They flicked by like a movie, flashing images, made to haunt her. Will's body, cold and lifeless and lonely, splayed out on the ground, Tris – one of his best friends – standing nearby, maybe as lifeless as he was, or maybe smiling a vicious, cruel smile.
Christina opened her eyes, her throat filled with a lump and her stomach feeling acidic.
Her best friend had killed her boyfriend. It was the worst thing that could happen – she didn't just lose one person when Tris pulled that trigger, when she even thought about pulling the trigger, Christina lost two.
My first time writing Divergent, and I think it won't be my last.