Remembering Tris

It's always the nightmares

I don't think i've had a good nights sleep in years. Because everytime I close my eyes, I see their faces. Will. Uriah. Tris. Will. Will. Will. It's always someone, but more than most it's him.

I remember how it felt when our lips touched, how it felt when he held me.

How it felt when he was unfairly ripped from my life.

From my best friend.

In my dreams, we're sitting at the edge of the chasm, swinging our legs back and forth and laughing. I'm holding his hand, and I feel indescribably happy. Then, with a shudder, the ground starts breaking and Will starts falling. He scrambles for the rail, but it isn't there anymore, and he's reaching for me and begging for me but I can't reach him and at the last second his face morphs into Tris's and she screams my name-

I gasp and sit up in bed. I hear Four running into my room, and then his arms are around me. I'm crying and gasping into his shirt, and he just rocks me back and forth.

"I get them too," he says, and I know he understands.

When I finally calm down enough for him to release me, I notice that the front of his shirt is only slightly wet. It never ceases to amaze me, how little physical evidence our grief leaves. I go through this almost every night nowadays and I know Four does too. while other people sleep comfortably in their beds, we endure this gut wrenching pain and what physical trace does our agony leave? A few wet spots on the pillow or on each other's shirt. Everytime I wake up after one of my episodes, I expect everything to have shattered. but everything looks the same. The tears dry up even before I manage to get to sleep. this isn't the first time Four has comforted me. But this is the first time he has admitted to having nightmares himself. He never did like to talk about his fears. I wonder who he sees. Only Tris? Or are there others? Does he see Uriah? I guess I'll never know. He smiles at me as I let go of him. I try to smile back. But I can't. Wills face keeps flashing in my head. So instead I look away. He pats my head lightly and leaves the room. I fall back into bed. I'm grateful for him. He doesn't talk very much or ask a lot of questions, but he understands. I can see it in his eyes. I thought we would mend as time passed, but lately it's gotten worse. The nightmares and the pain. It's like I don't want to fix myself. Fixing myself would mean letting go of Tris and Will and I'm not strong enough to do that. Yet. I suspect Four feels that same way.

I understand that in life, someone will be taken away from all of us. Death is something no one can escape.

But I don't think that it was very fair that I was robbed of so many.

They were so young. Too young.

I clutch at the mercy of sleep as all the rest of my thoughts slip away from me.

Thankfully, I don't dream. When I wake up at dawn, I throw down the covers and get off the bed. This has become something of a habit now. I spend as little time on the bed as possible. It feels like a hostile entity. I've endured some of my darkest nightmares on that bed. Every night, I shudder at the thought of going back. I heave a sigh of relief as I head towards the bathroom. I can hear four moving about in the other room, already awake. I wonder again, as I do so often, which one of us is in more pain? Is there an upper limit to the amount of suffering and loss a person can endure? Have we already hit that limit? Or does Tris's absence hurt him more than Will's absence hurts me? I start thinking about Will again. I still remember the first time he kissed me. Hesitant and gentle. Terrified that he was doing it all wrong. But that's not the most vivid memory I have of him. a few days before the attack on Abnegation, we found ourselves alone in the dorm. His green eyes twinkled with mischief as he pointed it out. I couldn't stop smiling that afternoon. His kiss wasn't hesitant that day, as I wrapped my arms around his wait, his unkempt blond hair brushing my face, his pale green eyes locked into mine, I felt ridiculously happy. If I try hard enough, I can still remember what his touch felt like. But everyday, I feel like the memory becomes less and less vivid. Even back then, I knew that i'd fondly carry that memory around with me forever, no matter what happened. Even if we didn't work out. Little did I know, that i'd be weeping over his dead body in a few day's time.

I shake my head slightly to snap myself out of the memory, trying to ignore it. To ignore him. Thats the only way I can can get through the day, through the week. I hate ignoring him, I hate shoving memories of him from my mind. As much as I want to remember Will, and I want to remember Tris, and even Uriah, though I didn't know him terribly well.

I hear a small knock on the door and I nearly shriek - somehow since their deaths i've been much more easily scared that i should be. Maybe it's because i'm constantly relieving their deaths in my head. Two went by gun. At any moment I could turn around and a gun could be pointed at my head, begging me to go with them.

No matter how much I miss them, i'm not sure i'm ready to do that yet. But it's only Caleb: defenseless, sleep-ridden Caleb. We all share a bathroom - which can be kind of awkward, but we've all come to respect each other's privacy, and the rest of the general public has left us alone and they use their own bathroom. I don't know why they'd let us take over a perfectly good bathroom, i could understand a bedroom - we wake up screaming from nightmares all the time. But… I don't think we'll be doing much grieving in a bathroom.

"Hey," Caleb says shyly, and he tries to offer a smile. it doesn't really work - his lips just tremble a little. "Hi" I whisper. The three of us have been trying our best to get one another through this as a team. We all protect each other and whatnot. It wouldn't be my ideal way to bond with these two but… I guess it has helped a little. We've almost become like siblings. Awkward siblings, butt… Siblings.

I walk over to him and wrap my arms around him as tightly as I can manage Caleb's been out of Abnegation for awhile now, but even so, he's still learning hugging. It's awkward for him, and whenever he hugs me, it's gentle and light. Sometimes I long for him to just squeeze me as tightly as he can can, but… I don't know. I guess we'll get there.

I break away from Caleb and look up at him. "breakfast?" I ask. He nods in reply and we both head towards the kitchen.

The loss, this pain, this grief can even be detected from the way we walk; Caleb walks slower and slightly more, slouched than he did before Tris died. It's like the grief is ingrained in us - everything we do shows it.

When we reach the small kitchen Four is already there, setting out the ingredients for pancakes. That is one thing about Four that has never changed he is always there for you, helping you in everyday life.

As Four gets to work cooking pancakes Caleb and I sit down at the small wooden table in the center of the room. None of us speak. The silence fills the room like water; flowing in. the absence of words is normal nowadays. We only seem to talk whenever it is really necessary. I suppose it's due to the deaths. Like the absence of 3 people leads to the absence of 3 people speaking.

"Anybody want chocolate chip ones?" Four asks. He gets no response. I've always liked mine plain, and I guess that Caleb is still used to plain food from Abnegation. I wonder if he's even had chocolate before. Do the Erudite have chocolate? "Okay." Four finishes quickly, and he takes his place next to us. We eat silently. No one asks what were doing today, how were doing, nothing. Sometimes I wonder if it was really Tris' death that has us all silent, or if it was a combination of all our losses. If Tris were here now, would there be conversation?

"If Tris were alive right now, do you think we'd talk more?" I ask aloud. I still have my Candor mouth, so when something is bothering me enough, i'm not afraid to voice it aloud. Maybe it wasn't such a great question to ask since we are all still grieving, but it would have felt wrong if I internalized the question. Surprisingly Caleb is the first to answer. "I don't know," he says. I wonder if he's going to go all Erudite on the answer. "I think I'd be better off if she were still alive, but thats what I personally believe,"

Caleb won't make eye contact with anyone, so instead I look at Four, who seems to be thinking intently about the question. I remember the first time I "smart-mouthed" him, when we were just about to start initiation. I thought he was too tough and series to actually think about my Candor mannerisms. Maybe things are just different between us now. "Yes," Four says. He doesn't seem to feel the need to explain himself - he just says the one word and is finished with his answer.

I remember back during the start of initiation. I remember Will, Al and Tris. The group of friends I'd made. Uriah, Lynn, Marlene. They are all gone. I'm alone. I look at Four and wonder if he feels the same way, if he feels alone, too. But even with my Candor mouth, I know not to voice that question. It's too painful. We're not ready for it yet. Will we ever be ready? I don't even know. All my friends are gone - and I don't even know if I can make new ones. I don't even know if my dreams will stop, if my life will ever be happy again. Right now, everything is so bleak. In Candor, we were always told that everything was black and white. But now that I'm Dauntless. Now that I'm an Allegiant, nothing is that simple. In my new life, everything is grey. And everything is blurry. The only way to make everything clear again is to let go, and I Can't let go. Neither can Four, or even Caleb.

We Finish our pancakes in silence. They taste really good, I never realised Four was a good cook but then again, how well did I really know him before? The deaths have brought us closer. Closer than I thought we'd ever become. Caleb, Four and me don't really have many other friends. When Tris, Uriah and Will were killed we begun to live a separated life; just the three of us. We manage.

I gather up the plates and wash them up, looking out the small window at the city down below us. From 3 stories up, in our apartment, the people down below look like dolls being played with by a child. Most people are walking quickly; heading to work or school I suppose.

After Tris died, we made a monument out of stone to remember her, and everything she stood for. I would never admit this to Four but I see him almost everyday, sitting down on the base of it, crying. The first time I saw him doing that, I approached him. "Hey," I said. Like we were old friends meeting up somewhere instead of two broken people trying to mend one another.

He looked up at me with tears shining in his eyes.

"There were so many things I never said to her," he said with a choked whisper. "So many things I should have told her."

You didn't have to," I said softly, "she knew."

A soft whisper escapes Four in the quietness of the room. "She was the only one," he says, "The only one who could have loved someone so imperfect so… perfectly."

Then he turns and leaves, leaving me standing in the room, alone, not even with the memory of Tris to soothe my mind.