Four/ Tobias Eaton's P.O.V.
Tris races out of the room, and I realize she's angry at something, most likely my friends and my own self interrogating her. Class has stopped as everyone turns around just in time to hear the door shut behind me.
I run down the halls, sending Caleb a text message, telling him to 'Get your ass down to the Dauntless Knife Storage room because your sister is trying to hurt either herself or someone else'.
Sure e3nough, she's got a knife in her hand, knife tip inches away from the area of her chest where her heart is.
"STOP!" I yell just as she's about to end her life. Then, Caleb is hurtlying towards her and knocks her to the ground. The knife flies out of her hand. She starts stuggling, tears streaming down her face, as Caleb straddles her, effectively pinning her to the ground.
"Pick up the knife, will you!" Caleb orders. I grab the knife and put it back in it's spot in the storage room. When I come out, police are handcuffing her hands behind her back. She is pinned to the floor. She is sobbing uncontrollably. I watch them take her outside to their squad car. And I watch as she's buckled into the back seat. And I watch as they get in the squad car and pull away.
I watch her, mourning her like she's already dead. Because she very well may be. Because I know abuse when I see it. And she's been through loads of it. Guarantied.
"Thank you, Four. For watching out for her." Caleb states. I just look at him with a sad, blank expression.
"I have to. Because when you hurt her, I'm required to help her. Because I care abouther just like any of my other friends. But I don't think you do. I think your hidibng something, Caleb. And I'm going to find out what it is." I leave him, in shock, and go back to class with pursed lips.
Tris Prior's P.O.V.
I stare out the window of the car, tears still streaming down my face. I have no clue where we are going, but I know I'll hate it there. The two officers chat like friends would.
I wish I had succeeded in my attempt to end my life. It's not like anyone cared about me. You might say Four did, but that's not true. Because if he had, he'd have let me succeed. And you might think Caleb did. But no. I bet he's freaking out right now because now the police could find out what my family did to me.
We turn into the driveway of the local hospital. I start to freak out. I don't want to go to the inpatient mental ward!
But instead of going to the inpatient mental ward, we go to a physical examination room. And they conduct a physical on me. Well, not the officers. But the medic. The officers injected me with calming serum, then left. So I guess I'm happy. In reality, my mind is blank. But that's fine with me. Of course, the medic doesn't understand French, which I'm somehow fluent in, so he doesn't know what I'm saying. I guess people speak French when they're high. That's okay with me. I am high, right?
I find out later that they estimated my weight and all that crap they need to know to give me the correct dosage, wrong. So I got two times what I should have gotten. Which is why I was high, not calm. I mean, I was calm, but apparently I'm not fluent in French. I'm only fluent in two languages: English, a babytalk. You know, what a person learning how to talk, says. It doesn't make sense at all. That was me. Fun.
I was also unaware that the lady had me strip and I complied.
Nor was I aware that sher took samples from my crotch.
Nor was I aware that they took blood.
Or the fact that they asked me questions.
Or the fact that I love Four. Wait...what? Excuse me? Hold the phone there, pal! I've gotta talk to...I don't know.
The effects of the overdose are obviously still in effect. Not good.
Wait...so that's not possible. I can't possibly love him. I mean, I guess I could, but he would never love me back. That's impossible for him.