Hello again. I don't have much to say, other than recommending you to listen to Florence + the Machine's song What Kind of Man while reading this chapter (and maybe watch the music video too).

CHAPTER 34

The taste of morning stains my tongue.

My fingers trace circles in the sheets that pool around me like the warm waters of the open sea, leaving me drifting peacefully on my back as the salt blesses my skin. I breathe, just breath, feeling the way my chest rises and lowers, listening to the gentle flow of air as it enters and exits my nose.

The bed shifts and displaces the gentle waters, waves sending me crashing into reality as I am immediately shocked sober from sleep.

My eyes snap open and I see the Dauntless sign staring back at me, tattooed on tanned skin I have come to memorize by heart.

I can feel my stomach drop as I sit up, sheets falling from my chest and leaving me completely exposed to the freezing air. He lays there, completely at ease, face pressed into his pillow, just breathing.

I can feel my knotted hair fall on my bare shoulders, feel the salty tears crusted on my cheeks, see the tally mark scars on my wrists as I gather the sheets up to my chest, pressing them to me just a little too hard.

My mouth can't seem to close as I turn to see the clothes, my clothes, strewn across the carpet, eyes catching on Tobias's feet tangled in the sheets, comforter thrown to the floor. My chest tightens at the sight, hands shaking and throat closing up before I can even take a breath.

I slip to the floor, dragging the sheets with me, only wishing to get away from here as fast as possible. Chocking down a sob, I pull me knees to my chest, feeling so violated, so exposed. My skin crawls and all I want is to just rid myself of it. I feel so dirty. So defiled. So alone.

I stand with creaking bones, plucking my clothes from the floor and tiptoeing into the bathroom on unsteady legs. The shut door between us lets me relax a bit, sighing with relief as I lean against it. The light is so bright, buzzing and flickering with that florescent hum. It impeccably clean, even cleaner than mine after the nurses fly through while I am at lunch. The layout is exactly the same, with the shower shoved into one corner, the toilet in the other, and the sink stuck in between. The only thing different is that the door to the small cabinet above the sink is closed, leaving the mirror exposed for anyone to see its secrets.

I haven't seen myself in month, in years. I grew up never gazing into mirrors, never glimpsing my reflection, never knowing my true face. I was taught to rage in the face of selfishness, avoid any form of self-indulgence, and was convinced that I never mattered. I thought I found freedom from that. I thought I found someone who believed that I mattered. I thought that I was finally alive for the first time in my life.

But then I was hit by the truth. I was forced to come to the revelation that everything I ever believed in was a lie. Fear was pounded into my skin, hatred branded into my eardrums. I learned to run and hide from the sight of my reflection, learned to turn my body into a battle ground instead of a home, learned that the pain was repentance for the sin of living. I learned to accept all this.

I haven't seen myself in years. I have never looked in a mirror and seen the real me staring back because the only thing I was never taught was how to be anything but what people wanted. I have never been anything more than an object to take advantage of, to manipulate, to use and throw away.

But I am done being everybody's mannequin. I have never felt more clear.

So, I walk up to the mirror.

And I see myself. Not Beatrice, not the skeleton girl, not Tris. Me. A broken girl, so alone, so sick. My cheeks are hollow, so hollow that now I have the cheekbones I never had before. My eyes are sunken into my skull, red rimmed and bruised from no sleep. My skin is pale, transparent. I can see the veins in my temples as clear as day. My hair is thin, tangled from Tobias's rough fingers, dry and brittle, almost like a rat's nest.

Bruises trail down my neck, still red from Tobias's kisses. I can't help but remember the bruises he left on my skin months ago, born of violence and rage, scarring me in a way that isn't visible to the gazing eye. I take in a deep breath and look down at my arms, at the scars carved there, thinking how they were just as much Tobias's fault as the bruises. I remember how he kissed them last night, how he didn't acknowledge the pain they represented, disregarding the mental struggle they marked, treating them like simple beauty marks, as if he had no part in the making of them, as if my agony had no meaning.

I shiver and all I can do is imagine shedding my skin, ridding myself of his touch. How could I have let myself do that? How could I have thrown myself in the arms of the man who caused my downfall, who let me crash and didn't help me pick up the pieces again? How could I thrive under the touch of the man who beat me with no remorse and no apology? How could I give in to sick desires just to feel as if I was wanted?

All day I was weighed down with those thoughts, was plagued with dirt that caked into my skin and would not wash out, but I still came crawling back to his room that night begging for more.

DISCLAIMER: This story is purely fiction, but it deals with very real issues that occur in this world all the time. I really don't want you to read this story and think that any of the things these characters do, especially Tris, are okay. Self-harm and substance abuse are in no way good ways to deal with any problem. If you have a problem that prohibits you from living your life normally, then don't hesitate to see a therapist about it. Therapists are nothing like the ones portrayed in this story. They are very nice and understanding. And you will in no way get locked up in a mental hospital, ever. The elements of this story are extremely exaggerated, and completely fictional. THIS STORY IS NOT A RELIABLE RESOURSE FOR ANYTHING. DO NOT LISTEN TO IT. IT IS JUST A STORY.

And as always, don't forget to review.