Tris POV

It's six in the morning, and I sit on my bed. I try to be completely silent, breathing slowly and barely taking in enough air to be satisfied. One of my hands clutches the white painted wire frame around the picture of the woman I saw die.

She is beautiful. Hair the same color as mine, but hers is longer and seems less dull in the picture. Eyes crinkled shut as she laughs, her mouth slightly open and set in an easy smile.

My mother.

I stare at the photo, taking in every inch of it, the woman who is ingrained into my memory. I want to remember her as this happy, smiling woman. I can't. All I see is her wide eyes and her arm, pushing me behind her. I squeeze my eyes shut, but the memories keep going...

"Beatrice, why don't you come help me with dinner?" My mother calls from the kitchen, leaning into the doorway. A strand of hair has fallen out of her bun and into her face, and the kitchen lights make it a lock of gold.

I set down my pencil on my seventh grade math homework. "Okay," I say, and meet her in the kitchen. She's rolling ground beef into meatballs. The aroma of meat fills the air.

"Can you get me the pan out of the cupboard?" She rolls another meatball, her eyes trained dutifully on the task at hand. I retrieve the pan and set it on the counter for her, and begin placing the finished meatballs in neat rows across the glass surface.

The front door opens with a bang so loud it makes us both jump. Caleb is upstairs, doing his homework, and my dad would never open the door in a manner so violent. My mother recovers from her shock and her face falls into her normal small smile as she walks to the kitchen doorway.

Before she gets there, a man I've never seen before bursts into the kitchen. He smells like cigarettes and alcohol and all the things that make my nose wrinkle under normal circumstances. My mother widens her eyes, and I take a tiny step back.

I then notice the metal in his hand, and follow it down to the tip of the gun dangling from his right hand. I move closer to my mom. Who is he? Is he going to shoot us? Am I going to die?

He lifts the pistol and points it at me. "Give me all the money you have here or I swear to God I will shoot her." I stare into the black pit that is the gun barrel and try to swallow. There is a lump in my throat. A crazed thought ranges in my mind, wondering what the lump is made of.

My mother casts a desperate glance at me and moves slowly to the counter to where her purse rests. Her hands shake as she pulls out her wallet. I see very few bills and my heart hammers in my chest.

My mother holds the wallet out to the man. "Take it," she says in a quiet, steady voice. "That's all of my credit cards." I look at her, and think, fearfully, of how brave she's being and what a coward I am.

The man snatches the wallet and looks through it. His mouth crunches up and he throws the wallet to the ground. "No cash!" His voice shakes the house. I feel my bottom lip quiver and look at my mother. She looks and me and I see a sad smile on her lips. Her lips move into words that make no sounds. They say, I love you. No matter what.

The man closes his finger on the trigger, and I am about to die. My eyes are squeezed shut. But the bullet never comes. All I hear is a thud hitting the floor and footsteps running away. I open my eyes and the man is gone. And the thud was my mother hitting the kitchen floor.

She took the bullet for me.

I drop to the floor next to her and scream. "Mom. Mom." She stays silent, and she's not breathing. There's a red mark in her neck, and red on the floor. "Mom. Mom!" I scream for her, but she's silent, and I keep screaming anyway.

And I can do nothing for her, even though it is my fault that my mother is dead. I was the one he was going to shoot. They caught him later, Henry Jakarta. But it's not worth it. Because my mother was gone and there was nothing more.

I gasp and press the photograph to my chest. Today, eight years ago, she was a stiff lifeless form that hit the floor. I can't take it. I need to get out of here. I drop the picture onto my sheets and run out of the apartment. I trip on the stairs and fall for several stairs, skinning my knee. I don't feel anything. I am numb. I am nothing. Blood runs down my leg. I can barely see it.

I run down the sidewalk, pushing people out of my path, trembling all over. My mother. My beautiful, beautiful mother. Dead today, a long time ago. Gone. Forever.

I am in front of a hotel, and a voice in the back of my head tells me I've been here before, but I'm breathing too fast and can't remember who's staying here, or why I am here in the first place.

A man sees me, and he has dark blue eyes. His mouth moves, but I hear nothing. I sink to my knees in the pavement and my head touches the ground. I feel myself sobbing, sobbing into the concrete. People are asking me things, but I can't hear them. All I see is my mother, and her smile. Wiped away from the world.

I sob and sob until I am no more, just a small bit of nothing floating in a sea of too many.

Tobias POV

I watch the ambulance pull up, the paramedics who load Tris into their vehicle. Her eyes are squeezed shut, her red cheeks stained with tears. I'm shaking. When I came down for my morning coffee run, she was there, on the sidewalk, screaming and crying, until she passed out. I had to call 911.

"Are you coming?" One of the paramedics holds the door open. I don't think; I just climb into the ambulance and then we are driving away.

The hospital comes in a blur of doctors and nurses, and someone sitting me in a waiting room and telling me to stay put.

A vaguely familiar man comes into the waiting room, nervously pacing the room. I realize with a start that it's her brother, Caleb. He meets my eyes and his mouth drops open. "Tobias Eaton?" His voice is laden with anxiety and disbelief.

"Yeah. I was the one who called the paramedics," I tell him. "For Tris," I add. His eyes widen even more and he sits down in a chair in front of mine.

"You know my sister?"

I consider my responses. "You could say that." I think for a moment. "Do you have any idea what's wrong with her?"

Caleb looks at the floor, clearly uncomfortable. "I'm sorry," I say quickly. "You don't have to tell me."

"No, it's okay." Caleb looks up, and his eyes are a little bit wet. "Its the anniversary of our mother's death. Tris, when she was thirteen...well, she saw her get shot."

The information hits me like a ton of rocks. Tris saw her mother get killed as a kid? "I'm sorry," I say, because it's all I can think of.

Caleb opens his mouth to say something when a nurse comes up to us. "You can come see her now." We follow her down a hall to a room where Tris is curled up on the bed, looking smaller than usual. She lifts her head a little bit when we come in, and then buries her face in her pillow.

"Hey, sis," Caleb sits in the chair next to her bed and takes her hand. Tris looks up at him. "You okay?"

Tris groans. "I don't know what's wrong with me." She starts crying again, and it makes me sad. She is such a strong person, and now I can see the side of her that everyone has, the side that takes over every once in a while and makes you break.

I stand in the doorway and watch them talk quietly. I feel like an intruder. I'm about to leave when Tris looks up at me.

"You're here." She says it in a way that is neither or a question or a statement. I nod, and she looks embarrassed.

"Are you okay?" I ask. She looks away, and then back at me.

"Yes." She closes her eyes. I'm not sure I believe her.


Shauna is waiting for me back at the hotel. She regards me with a quiet air that could mean anything. Finally, she speaks. "Did you really call an ambulance for that girl with the mental breakdown?"

I want to snap at her for referring to Tris like that, but I hold my tongue. "Yes. Yes I did." My answer comes out short and flat.

She wraps her arms around me and tugs at my short hair with her fingertips. "You are a hero. A brave one."

But I'm not. That's Tris. Who saw her mother die. Not me. Suddenly, I'm so sick of Shauna and how she changes herself to be with me, sick of everything about her. Just so...done. Shauna is no longer the one I love. No. Loved.

"No." I tell her, and step out of her embrace.

"What do you mean, no?" Shauna asks, the slight bitchy tone entering her voice. She scowls at me.

"We...we're done, Shauna. It's over between us. We just can't be together anymore." The words come from my mouth, fast and steady.

Shauna's mouth falls open. "You can't dump me. You wouldn't."

"I just did." I'm too tired of her to be gentle. "You aren't the girl I used to like. And because I barely know you anymore, I don't see how we could play this...this game where we pretend to love each other and pretend everything's fine."

Shauna glares at me. "I loved you," she snarls. "I gave you my life, everything. And you're throwing it all away. I don't know what to say."

"Nothing. Don't say anything, Shauna." I snap, and leave the hotel room. I'm in the elevator and in the lounge before I can register what happened, and don't let myself process what I did until Nita hands me a glass of whiskey.

Looks like everyone is breaking down in this one. Ouch.

Sorry for the depressing chapter, but it's been an idea I've had for a while now, and needed to get it out there. Poor seventh grade Tris. But on the bright side, Tobias broke up with Shauna so...hmmm. I wonder what he'll do next. Thanks for the love and support, I appreciate you all.

Love you bye !