Author's Note: I will most likely try to update every other day, my life would be easier that way. If I get at least 15 reviews I will think about updating again that day. As you know this is a Divergent story. It has been a very long time since I actually read Divergent so don't get your panties in a twist when I get something wrong.
Disclaimer: This girl is so not Veronica Roth. She is not the kill main character type...
Chapter 1: First Day of the End of my Life
Tris PoV
The supposed cofty bed felt like hard wood to Tris. Her once sparkling grey blue eyes were bloodshot from crying herself to sleep last night. Yesterday she got beaten till she was raw and bloody with belt marks all on her scarred back. Her once soft and unblemished skin now had bruises everywhere. There was litterally no patch uncovered.
Tris once went suicidal. She spent months adding to the brusies she got from her horrible dad. Her mom was no better as she would just sit there and watch her get beaten raw every day. Her brother Caleb died when she was 3. Her dad believed she was the reason why he got serevrly sick. To put it simple she gets abused because she *killed* off a perfect child. When her dad found out about her going suicidal he gave her an extra beating for a whole year. It was horrendous. It was like going to Tatarus and coming back on the edge of your life. (PJO since I can't curse)
"Come here you little wench! You have to cook breakfast know dont you?" Her dad's gruff voice came from oitside the metal door. It felt like she was in a cellar half the time she was in her *stylish* room. Please note the sarcasm.
Tris tried to rush, but failed badly. She fell to the floor. Her ankle obviously broken or sprained, but she plowed on. Tris had to learn the hard way how to deal with immense pain. Beatrice quickly limped to her abnormally small closet. She looked at the clothes and then decuded to play it safe, so she pulled out a long sleeve baggy grey shirt and some extra large grey sweatpants. Tris practically ran to the bathroom to put on sone concealer. If her dad saw some of her bruises she will get hit twice as hard as she did last night, no one would want that. Tris plowed down the stairs using all her left over stength not to wince at every step. The key part about fitting in is acting. She learned how to act and put up astounding walls when she started to get abused.
"Come on wench! We have places to be, and you didn't even start breakfast yet!" Dad yelled his voice shaking the walls a little bit. Tris was finally down the stairs. She walked to the creamy colored kitchen thinking *This is going to be quite a day!*
**Author's Note: Your probaly thinking wow short, but I want to see if people will read this or not. Question should I continue? Please review! I wil answer them when I post my next chapter. Every time I get 15 reviews you guys earned an extra chapter. ***
**Thank you my lovelies,**
**devilspawnINTHEHOUSE**
