A/N Hey, it's OnCloudTen! I decided to write another story, as you can see. This first chapter is really short, but it was a really emotional one for me to write. I didn't want to jump right in to the initiates coming, and I thought this would be a good way to do it. I will reference these thoughts later, because they were so hard for me to write and I think they voice this topic perfectly. I'll post a new (longer) chapter hopefully tomorrow!
Silence used to be my worst enemy. Silence meant belts and lashes. Closets and fears. I used to see Dauntless as a safe haven. Now it's my jail.
The roaring water from the chasm is spraying my feet. But I don't care. Normally I come here to sort out my thoughts. Today I'd rather drown them.
Choosing day. The memories are painful and exhilarating at the same time. Two years ago, today was my savior. Now it is my demise.
I could jump. I can end it all. No more nightmares, no more living with my terrors. Even if there are only four. Too much for me to handle. The abyss of the unknown is calling to me. But I will fight the urge another day. I push my hands against the wet rock and slowly stand up. The first time I sat here I was running from my fears. Right now it seems easier to cave into them.
My mother told me once that stars are guardian angels sent to watch over us at night. To keep us safe. I asked her what happens during the day. She didn't know what to say to that. Each night, I'd look up to the stars and think about life, as much as a kid could. My guardian angels never shown as bright. They were never there to take away the pain. The scars. They couldn't wipe away the tears at night. No matter how hard I wished, they never protected me.
When she went to join them, I thought that I'd finally be free. But the stars were only dimmer when his belt came out at night.
I never understood what I did wrong. What I did to deserve this. My angels couldn't be fixed. It wasn't as simple as installing new batteries or twisting a knob the other way. Their lights were shattered. Scattered. Scarred. They were never working when I needed them the most. I reflected them. The tattoos on my back worked to cover the scars. But not the memories.
I've built my walls, block by block, for eighteen years. It will take more than a gust of wind to knock them down. The identity I've built in Dauntless is not me. I do not have four fears. I am a coward. Tears might bring a sense of release, but they never come. Just like my angels. It's been eighteen years and I've never seen my guardians. Maybe I never will.
The first time he beat me I was three. I was locked in the closet for two hours. I cried for three. I was young, I didn't understand. What I did to deserve the welts on my back. But I still don't. I still don't.