Tris:

A year. That's how long I've been wishing I was dead. But one face pops into my head every time I think about letting go: Tobias. I hold on to every last bit of hope I have of him finding me. For 12 months now I have been brutally tortured and beaten. My arms, legs, back, and face are covered in bruises, cuts, and burns. I hardly get to look at myself in the mirror but I know I look weak. I'm as white as a sheet and paper thin. My body is constantly aching from the torture they give me each day.

The they I am referring to are of course Dr. Connor and his belligerent team. They are ruthless and never miss an opportunity to hurt me. Physically and Mentally.

I am only allowed to shower every three days to "conserve water supply" but I'm not stupid, I know that they just want it for themselves. I am given one bowl of oatmeal in the morning and a chicken strip, green beans, and a roll each night. Each week I go through four days of simulations and 3 days of what they like to call "Disciplinary Training." In Disciplinary Training me and the other 3 prisoners here are tortured for information that we don't have and trained to think like the City of New Hope rebels. Only one of the four of us have compiled to their wishes. The simulations are not like the simulations Jeanine created. These simulations are practically real and impossible to break out of. Everything that happens in the simulation and to me, happen in real life (except for the fact that I am not allowed to die). Just yesterday I was put in a sim in the mountains. In this sim, the object was to scale the side of the mountain and climb to the top in order to save a child who was about to jump off. I nearly fell to my death, slid 10 feet down the mountain and grabbed onto a tree branch. Not only did I receive a huge gash on the side of my calf, but I failed. And failing equals more tests, more blood drawn, and 30 minutes in the electric chair.

I have yet to find out anymore information on what exactly these tests and simulations are for, but I know that somehow my divergent blood is the key to unlock new information for Dr. Connor. I am his most valued subject. But I am also the most difficult one. Nothing pleases me more than to see Connor struggling to get information.

I have at least managed to make one friend during my time here. Well, possibly two if you count the one and only guard who is kind to me. The second week I was here I met a 23 year old girl named Cassie who was also a divergent. She was apparently dauntless born but transferred to candor. Only, when they began using the truth serum a candor leader discovered her divergence but she fled before he could execute her. Cassie has been here 6 months longer than I have but somehow I look much weaker and bruised than she does. Although we can't speak much, we speak with our body and our eyes. By passing each other in the hall we can tell what other has been through that day. Its nice to have a companion who knows exactly what you are going through. Its also nice to know that at least one of the guards in this place isn't a complete psycho.

I learned that the guard's name is Theo. Theo occasionally sneaks me an extra bread roll and tries as hard as he can to end my torture earlier than scheduled. He also lets Cassie and I talk when we go to the showers. I always wonder how such a kind man ended up in a place like this.

My stomach rumbles loudly which must mean its almost 7:30. There's no clock in any of the cells so I usually tell the time by my schedule, or my stomach tells the time for me.

My cell door opens and I involuntarily jump. Every time that door opens it means a guard is there to take me to my next horror. I will never get used to it. Luckily its Theo,

"Tris, the doctor wishes to see you. Follow me."

That's strange. I never see him at this hour. I think.

It's hard to breath through the pain of walking after today's endeavors which involved: a whip, the chair, and a scalpel. We walk down the long narrow hollow, and I feel chills down my spine. Whatever the Dr. wants, it can't be good.

He guides me through a doorway into what I know as the control room. There is a metal chair in the middle of the room and attached to it are wires. The wires lead to Connor, in his control booth and in front of the booth stand three guards.

"Good evening Beatrice," Connor's cold voice fills the room, "before you have you're dinner, there is a new test I need you to try that I am very excited about." A wave of exhaustion hits me and I nearly pass out. His new tests are never good, in fact they are my worst nightmare.

"Go ahead and sit in the chair, sweetheart." I cringe. I hate it when he calls me that.

"No." I say flatly. "I am done playing your games."

"Beatrice honey you know what happens when you don't do as I say."

The three guards take two steps closer to me. I look around the room for any sign of protection I can use against myself. On the wall to my left there is a metal bar leaning against the wall. I am weak but impulse takes over. I run as fast as my invalid body can to the bar but the guards run faster. One grabs me hard by the hair but I jab him in the nose with my elbow and finally get a grasp on the metal bar. With all my strength I whack another guard across the face, managing to get a good blow in, but three very large men against one meekly little girl is impossible. I am punched in the throat and pushed to the ground, a moan escapes from my mouth. One of them kicks me in the head and suddenly the room is spinning and my vision is going in and out. I know I am too weak to fight back but I try to sit up anyway. The guard I originally knocked down is back up and angrier than before. He kicks me twice in the ribs and I scream in pain. Whatever he just did to my side can't be good. He kicks me one more time just for pleasure. A strangled wheeze escapes my throat. I feel like I'm about to pass out or throw up, or both.

I hear laughing coming from the control booth. "Ohh Trisss,"he hisses, "how very brave of you to fight back." I try as hard as I can to swallow my tears. I will not cry in front of him. I will not let him win. He kneels down in front of my face, smiling. "Will you ever learn Beatrice?" I scowl at him. "I will never let you control me." I say. He punches me hard across the jaw and this time I swear I see stars. He stands and says "Wrong answer. Take her back to her cell and don't give her dinner. The little rat doesn't deserve it." Before he leaves he kicks me in the same spot where the other guard kicked before. Extreme heated pain spreads throughout my entire right side and I know that something has to be broken. One tear, thats all I allow myself when the guards begin to take me away. I can hardly walk and breath at the same time but nevertheless all they do is push me along the dark hallway and into my cell. I have to breath through my nose in order to ease the pain in my ribs. I glare at them until they leave but once they're gone I collapse as carefully as I can onto my bed with the room spinning and my ribs on fire. I am positive I have a concussion.

Be Brave Tris. I tell myself

I close my eyes to try and escape my pain. Despite my nightmares, sleep is the only time I can feel peaceful. I focus on my breathing instead of the pain and slowly I fall into a deep sleep.