Something is wrong.

I know that right when I awake; when I leave the comfort of my bed against my own violation.

Because I'm not the one doing it.

Hey! I want to scream, trying to reach my hands, my legs. Attempting to push against what invisible force keeps me a prisoner inside my own head. What's going on?

Others appear around me as I enter the main sector of Dauntless compound, their faces slack, devoid of emotion; of any sign that they are still there. I wonder for a moment if that Is how I look on the outside, too.

I'm here! I yell, feeling my mind rattle from the volume of my own voice, but it fazes no one in the outside world. What's happening?

Then my eyes land on Christina and it's like my blood goes cold. Her eyes are blank. Her stance tense and mechanical. Is she screaming silent cries also? If she looks at me, will she see the emptiness that I am witnessing now?

Christina! Please, please! I'm over here!

I just want her to meet my eyes. I want just a little sign that she is still in there. That maybe if she sees me, it will help bring her back.

My body starts to move before she is given the chance to and I shove against it, using whatever strength I have to stop my feet from moving without my permission. Those around me follow suit, pacing in unison, our feet a nearly perfect beat slapping against the ground beneath us.

Then I see Tris. She's around me, looking at me, a questioning look burning in her eyes and I want to ask her what's going on, but I can't speak. I'm right here, Tris. I try to scream. But it's no use. She flees back into the crowd, swallowed instantly by the black clothes of the Dauntless.

Once outside, we head to the train stationed only a bit away, the cold metal kissing against my palm as the invisible force uses it to pull the rest of my body inside.

Even though I may not be in control of my body, I can still feel the things I touch, the arms that rub up against me as I stand in the train until it is loaded with everyone.

My eyes stare straight ahead, and I still look for Christina, but if she is near me, I don't see her.

I suddenly feel drained; as if it is using energy to stay here, a muted voice in the mind of a body that is no longer under my control. I wonder what will happen if I just let go.

We flood from the train when it reaches its destination in a blur of black and biting metal guns. I have a gun in my hand. I don't even remember how it had gotten there.

But I feel the weight of it, secure across my shoulder and fear takes over. I have a gun in the hands of those I can't command. I don't want to think about what they will have them do.

"Spread out!" a voice calls to us and I obey.

I obey with calm submission, turning roughly to the right and beginning to walk. The buildings blur beside me and I'm trying to remember where we are, but all thought seems to suddenly disappear, lost in the sea of darkness probing around my vision.

Time passes slowly, like the controllers hacking inside my body have also discovered the keys to control the pace of seconds and minutes. Maybe hours have passed and I'm not even aware of it.

Then I start down an alleyway, something small at the end catching my eye.

A short, small girl stands before me and I stop running, turning to face her.

Her eyes grow wide, blond hair waving behind her like a halo.

Tris.

There's another woman next her, but I don't' care. As gunfire echoes around us, all my focus is centered on Tris.

I try to scream her name, to tell her I'm here. I want to ask what is going on. I want to ask if she has seen Christina. And then I remember that we are all being controlled.

But she freezes. I see her joints lock as she stares at me, and something tells me that she is not another Dauntless zombie. She knows who I am, otherwise she wouldn't be looking at me as if she is seeing a ghost.

I try yelling again, but it is not use. She can't hear me. No one can.

She lifts her gun to me.

What? I cry out, slamming against the barrier inside my head. What are you doing?

It's only then that I realize I have my own directed at her. The barrel pointed at her chest.

It's when time slows again and I'm trying desperately to lower my hand, scratching, pulling, yanking against my head, trying to claw my way back inside my body.

But it does nothing. The chamber locks.

She has no choice. If Tris doesn't kill me, I'll shoot her.

I look her dead in the eye as she cocks her gun, praying she can see my resolve.

It's okay, Tris, I think.

I see her fight against it, but I know she can't. There's no point.

I try to hold on for as long as I can, but it's slipping.

I take an imperceptible breath

And watch as she deftly pulls the trigger.

It's okay.