TRIS-
Today is the day. It's the day I attempt to cover up the pain that has been so consistent in my life that it has officially broken me. It's the day I have to plaster on a blank face and enter the doors to my new High School, a place full of people who will not know me, or what I have been through. This is an opportunity to silently suffer through my final two years of high school without being noticed or taunted or hurt anymore. Or at least I hope.
I wasn't always like this, broken and used. No I used to be the happy and carefree Beatrice Prior. From head to toe I radiated joy and affection to the ones around me, which at the time were my dear parents and my brother, Caleb. We were a normal family, living a quiet peaceful night, until that dreadful night of the car accident about a year ago. While I walked away from the wreck with a broken leg and a few bruises, my family were rolled away and put into the ground with a swift and depressing funeral. In a blink of an eye I was thrown into the foster care syste
In the last year I have stayed in a total of four houses. I couldn't possibly think of them as homes because they were the farthest thing from it. The first two were better than the third and my current living situation, but were still not good. The parents took no interest in me whatsoever except with the money they received from the system for "caring for me" and giving me a "home." I was given minimal food and roughed up a bit for crying too much, stepping out of line or other things like that. But eventually the parents got bored or tired of my incessant tears and passed me on to the next home.
The third house was the worst. I was put into a family that consisted of a drug addicted mother who was rarely around, an alcoholic father and their abusive son Eric. At the time I was 15 and a sophomore, Eric was 17 and a junior. It started with just a few inappropriate comments and a few unwanted touches and punches, which I was used to by now from the last two foster houses I had been in. I had just told him to back off or even maybe given him a little shove to tell him I wasn't interested but then it all changed one night.
I had been crying in my bed, yet again, about the guilt and the sorrow of being the only one to walk away from the accident. I hadn't deserved this life that I had been spared. Then Eric entered and yet again made a disgusting comment about my "sexy" figure and how much he wished to see what was under my clothes. I just yelled at him to leave me alone but this time he didn't. He tied me to my bedpost and forced his body onto me, knocking the wind out of me. The tears came again, but this time they were from fear and anger about what he was doing. Forcing his lips onto mine, they tasted of cigarettes and alcohol. It was revolting. I screamed for him to stop over and over and attempted to fight him off by thrashing my body and attempting to kick him with my free legs but it was no use. He was stronger than me and had the upper hand. Eric then continued to remove my clothing until I was completely bare and helpless.
I screamed again for him to stop but instead he slapped me and punched me until my body was on fire and I could barely breathe. Then he started to unbuckle his pants and my body froze. My mind screamed for me to keep fighting but my body wouldn't respond. I was stuck. And then it happened. He entered me with such force that the pain was unbearable and I started to see black dots in my vision. A blood-curdling scream escaped my lips which lead to more punches and slaps on my naked body. Gripping my breasts tightly and kissing me with his foul mouth, he continued to thrust in and out, over and over again until the pain was too much and darkness took me away.
The next morning I awoke with a burning between my legs and a dull ache in my entire body from the blows that Eric's fists gave me. After that night, Eric continued using me throughout the months I was there. The first few times I fought him which only lead to more and more punches and slaps. Eventually I stopped fighting the him and just laid there and he did whatever he wished to my body. There was no use fighting him, he was stronger and it only resulted in more punishments and pain, so I decided to just hope that one day the pain would all end.
After months of that torture, Eric's parents decided to get rid of me, just like my past two families and I was taken the house I am at currently. Here I have an alcoholic foster father named Bud. I have been with him for one week and he already disgusts me. Every night, after his usual night out with his friends at a local bar, he comes home drunk with the smell of alcohol and cigarettes lingering on his breath, reminding me of Eric and his crimes against me. So far Bud had only slapped me around a bit when I get in his way or haven't done my chores that consist of cleaning, cooking the meals and any other tasks around the house that Bud thinks of.
I look in the mirror and put on the clothes that Bud bought for me yesterday after the threw out all of my old ones, claiming that they weren't slutty enough for his household. I can only imagine what he has planned for me in the near future. It makes me shiver at the thought.
I choose the clothes with the most coverage to cover up my scars and bruises, which is a tight, black long sleeved shirt with a low cut to show off my cleavage and light washed distressed high waisted shorts. My blonde hair is flowing naturally down my back and stops right after my elbows. I have always been told I am gorgeous by boys at my old school but when I look at my small frame and dull gray eyes, I see a girl that nobody would notice even if I was the only one in the room, which I guess is good in my case. Maybe it means I will be able to escape these two last years at my new high school without being noticed.
I quickly downstairs and out the door, hastily tugging on my red Toms on, avoiding the passed out Bud lying on the couch clutching a bottle of whisky from the night before.
As I walk up two school, only two blocks away from the house, I attempt to steady my breathes as I put on my mask of indifference.
"Here we go" I breathe as I push open the doors to Divergent High, and enter the halls of my new life.
AN-
Hey guys! Thank you for reading my first fanfiction! I hope you like it. I know that it is a bit dark for some people but I really wated to write something real that isn't just about Tris going to high school and falling in love with Four, which he will appear in the next chapter. This chapter was just really meant to introduce Tris and what she has been through and why she will be struggling throughout this story. I will hopefully be updating soon, but if you guys have any suggestions for the story or any helpfull things you would like to add, that would be very helpfull! But please refrain from hating, if you don't like my story you cant just stop reading. Thank you for reading my very first attempt at a story! Until next chapter!
