This is my first Divergent fanfic, and I've loved the series for a few years now. Hope you like this.
I'll keep updating if you review, although this is a oneshot for now.
I'm at a loss. Drawing closer to the inevitable sadness again. Tris was the only one who could snap me out of these moods, the moods which left me unresponsive and upset. Of course, they only increased after she died.
I can't grasp how she saved Chicago's biggest traitor and volunteered to die instead, but I guess Tris always had a strong relationship with her close family, not that there are many of them left. She was the last female Prior, one of the last generation of Abnegation with it. She was worth much more than the 'rebel under duress' tag she was labeled as. Much more than the people of the Bureau who don't even know her name. She was the spark that reminded me who I was. Not Tobias Eaton, not even Four. The name Four was just a temporary identity for me, a way for me to escape my past. She was my past, my present, and my future. She was a sixteen year old capable of starting a revolution, saving countless lives, and crying into my shoulder when she needed to. She was my wood, my coal, and my match. She started the fire inside me that took only her death to quench. I see her sometimes, in the sunset and the faces of the community. She's always there, like the ground, or the sky. You could rely on her.
When I first saw her in Dauntless, she looked at me with pure indignation and a sense of 'if-you-tease-me-I-will-personally-kick-your-head-in. She was brave, selfless, and everything she was worried she wasn't enough of. But, most importantly, she was Tris Prior.