She slips the key into her son's apartment, sighing. She hasn't seen him this weekend, and today, she received a call from Johanna that he didn't make it in to work. Worried, she decided to use the spare key he gave her to check on him.

His apartment is not lit. it is clean, sterile, even, in true Abnegation style even though the faction system crumbled four years ago. His couch is plain, modern, and red. There are black chairs that have a single red cushion perched against their backs. A glass coffee table sits in the middle of them. His floors are white tile. His dining table is small, also glass, and round. There are more black chairs. Behind the table, floor-to-ceiling windows are the only source of dull light in the space.

There are no decorations anywhere in his apartment, except a single blue glass sculpture which she knows is on his black night stand. She steps down the small hall, past the small kitchen and bathroom, toward his bedroom. She knocks on the closed door gently. "Tobias," she calls quietly. "Tobias? It's me, son."

Silence greets her, and she frowns.

"Tobias!" she says, louder this time, desperation creeping into her voice. Something is wrong, very wrong.

There is no answer, so she pushes it open. The room is also plain, black and white and red. A metal bed frame and no headboard. White sheets, black comforter. More white tile on the floor. The black night stand has a white rectangle on it, held in place by the abstract blue glass.

She moves toward it, concerned. It is a piece of paper. She picks it up, reading his scrawl.

Evelyn

You told me once, when you gave me the blue glass, that maybe it would do something in my heart, that beautiful things sometimes do. I didn't really know what that meant until she landed in Dauntless. She jumped first, did you know? She always was brave. Braver than anyone, braver than me.

The first time I saw her, I think, was at your funeral. She was somber and whatever else was expected of her, but she was strong, even then. Maybe I saw her sometimes at school, but she liked her invisibility.

Now she's really invisible, but I see her everywhere. I miss her, and it hurts. I see her when Johanna braids her hair instead of wearing it over her scar. I see her in my dreams, and in my bed, and in front of me while I threw knives at her during initiation, her jaw set and her eyes determined. I see her when I see the shadows of black birds, and I see her when I stand at the window and see the Ferris wheel in the distance.

I can't live like this anymore. I'm sorry.

Tell Christina to give my apartment to someone who needs it. Tell George, and Amar, and Zeke that they were the best brothers a man like me could ask for, and that I'm sorry I can't stay with them anymore. Tell Johanna that she is skilled and beautiful, and that I know she'll continue to have success. The others, well... tell them that I am proud of them.

Don't try to find me. I'm not anywhere where I can be found. I promise you that where I went, where I've laid myself to rest is sufficient for me. And I promise that where I am now I am happy. I don't want you to see me like this, anyway... I mean, if you're reading this, then I'm dead, and I know that is painful for you as it is without seeing me that way. It was for me, when I saw her that way. I think I died that day, not now.

Goodbye, Mother. I wish we had more time. I wish I had known you, long before any of this, so that we could have mended our relationship before it was too late for me. I wish so many things for us, but none of them are enough to keep me from saying goodbye to you. I will miss you. But right now, I miss her more. I love you, but I need her. I'm sorry.

Your son,
Tobias.

What say you? This is depressing, I know. But maybe if you all whine about it enough I can extend it. I have a plan ;)

Divergent is property of Veronica Roth. All recognizable characters belong to her. No profit is being made from posting this story. Thanks for your time.

~temporary insanity