Hello, my name is Edith Prior and I am here to congratulate you on your new job. I am the recorded message that plays for anyone who receives a job opportunity in Chicago working for Divergent industries. Welcome to the job!
The video plays on and on about how I need to be respectful and create a productive "work environment" for the CEO. I got the job as the CEO's personal assistant. The CEO barely does anything! I suppose I would get his coffee. He probably has had an easy life, living with rich parents and learning how to run a company and such. Well, I'll find out when I meet him. His parent/guardian probably didn't abuse him.
My parents died when I was 16. I lived alone with some government official coming to check in on me once a day. Some snob named Marcus Eaton.
At first, I was fine with the arrangement. He didn't bother me, I didn't bother him. He had this cold aura that radiated off of him. He sat in my living room on the grey loveseat and he never moved, just staring at his phone, occasionally swiping or typing something in. I always assumed it was work stuff.
Something happened though because he started becoming angry and mad at everything that could blink or breathe. He would all and scream random stuff like "Go to your room!"or "Shut the hell up!".
He didn't hesitate to swear either. He called me things even I didn't know what they meant. His anger was uncalled for and I certainly didn't deserve this irrational anger.
One day he swung the door open to the little house provided by Abnegation Inc. ( The government caretaker facility). The house was small and grey, with plenty of corners and crannies for hiding in. He stomped up the stairs. He never goes upstairs and when I say never, I mean never. He slammed Caleb's door.
Caleb has left to go to college about a month before mom and dad died. He didn't want to take any time off of college to see them be cremated for "reasons he can't disclose"
"Where's the little bitch?" He muttered under his breath. Excuse me? Something was up. And it wasn't Marcus up the stairs. He was acting strange. He was looking for me. I started to panic. This man was not nice. He didn't let me eat when he was around. So from the hours of 3-7, nothing for me to eat. I would be cooped up in my room, having flashbacks and panic attacks while he lounged around downstairs.
He finally found my room and flung the door open.
"What are you doing in here?" I asked. He smirked.
"My son left me. He left me for a job. He left me! He has me all alone. He left me to care for you. The only reason I'm doing this is because this gets me more money. The money was for him to go to college and then come home and work for Abnegation. He left me. He left me for DAUNTLESS. THOSE HOOLIGANS KNOW NOTHING." He screamed at me. He is scaring me, so I ask the most logical question I can muster up.
"Why does this include me sir?" I timidly ask putting down the book I was reading. He grins wickedly.
"Because," he starts, the grin never leaving his face. " I need you to do something for me. I'm not going to sugarcoat this, I beat my son. I made him into the man he was. He left too soon. I didn't have time to teach him to be like me, so he was scared of me. Cowering down in fear. I don't want the new generation of people, like you, to be like that. I'm going to you what I did to him and make you a woman. A quiet, obedient woman who does everything she is asked. How does that sound Beatrice?" I winced.
Ever since my parents died in that horrific car crash, I have been asking to be called Tris because my mom always called me Beatrice and whenever someone called me Beatrice, it brought back sharp, painful memories. What he was asking me was absurd. He was asking for my permission to abuse him.
"I'm sorry sir, but I don't give a fucking shit if you care about our generation. Your offer is not enticing but I think I'll be declining." I said, Injecting as much venom into my words as possible. I don't know where such words came from, but I sure as hell didn't want this man touching me.
He started loosening his belt and a million thoughts raced through my head. What will he do? Why? What made him so bitter?
Why...me?