Disclaimer: I don't own Divergent.
It's dark. I can't see a thing.
Pain stabs at my limbs as I try to find a comfortable position. I've been trapped in this darkness for… how long, now? Three hours? Four? Either way, it's been an eternity. My knees are turning to jelly and my back feels like it belongs to an eighty-year-old.
I open my mouth and a dry squeak slips out. "Dad?"
Silence is the answer. It feels like I'm being suffocated, a wall of nothingness blocking me from getting the help I need. I force myself to speak again. This time, my voice is loud and clear.
"Dad!" I shout. Again, there's no response.
A tidal wave of panic rises inside my chest. I know I'm only seconds away from a complete meltdown, but I need to stay calm. I take several deep breaths, my whole body trembling.
"Dad, let me out." I'm begging now, making a desperate plea to the monster on the other side of the wall. The question is, can he hear me? Will he?
I said I was sorry. Just this once, I didn't think it would be bad to tell a lie. I know I saw Holly push Josh down the stairs, but the thing is, I also saw Josh put his hand up Holly's skirt. And I didn't think she should've gotten in trouble when she wasn't the one being mean in the first place.
Not that my dad cares. He's already locked me in the tiny closet upstairs. According to him, I "acted selfishly". I "covered for one of my friends" and "tried to prevent justice". What does that even mean? Holly and I barely know each other!
I'm only nine years old. I'm too young to die. Especially in a faction like Abnegation, where people are selfless and the authorities are lenient.
I realize I'm crying now. Tears are pooling in my eyes and dribbling down my cheeks. I can't believe this is actually happening.
I decide to try one last time. "Dad?" I call out.
A female voice drifts through the nothingness, eventually reaching me. "And I'll let you know when we've made a decision." There's a visitor in our house. Relief floods through me.
I'm about to say something to the woman when someone else responds. "Wonderful." I'd recognize that deep, rumbling voice anywhere. It's my dad's.
Fear paralyzes me as I'm forced to listen. The woman goes on talking, oblivious to the looming threat in front of her. "You know," she says to my dad, "you've done the most to keep our community thriving. We really can't thank you enough."
"I appreciate the sentiment, Ms. Prior," my dad replies. I feel sick. This is Natalie Prior, one of the most generous humanitarians in Abnegation, and she's praising my father? I'd want to throw up, if I weren't so close to fainting from fear.
"Oh, forget about the honorifics. Just call me Natalie." She laughs a little. It's like a punch to my stomach.
"Anytime, Natalie," says my dad.
"And how is your lovely son? I haven't seen him in a while." Natalie sounds curious. I perk up a little. Maybe she'll ask to see me in person.
Seconds later, my hopes are dashed. "Tobias has been acting selfish lately," my dad tells Natalie. "Instead of volunteering, he skips school and misses his assignments."
"What a shame. Well, I know you'll whip him into shape. You're one of our model parents." From her tone, I can tell Natalie won't be bothered to look for me. She believes everything coming out of my dad's mouth. My eyes sting as the tears threaten to come back.
My dad chuckles. "Thank you, Natalie," he says. I hear soft footsteps, fading out with each passing second. The one person who could save me is about to depart.
"I must be going now. I'll see you very soon." And with that, Natalie's gone. The click of the front door closing is quiet, but to me, it's as loud as a bomb explosion.
"No, no," I whimper, almost involuntarily. I try to stifle my emotions. They're rising to the surface too fast. If my dad happens to hear me, he'll accuse me of trying to alert Natalie. What kind of punishment would he have in store for me? Will I be stuck in this closet for ten hours? A whole day?
The sound of heavy boot steps on the stairs jolts me out of my thoughts.
He's already coming, I realize. There's no escape for me now. The best thing I have to hope for is a short burst of anger, a tantrum that'll fizzle out quickly.
Please, please, please let him hit me only once. Let him use his hand instead of the belt, so it'll be over soon.
The boot steps pause. They're at the top of the stairs now. I picture my father standing there, his expression cold and emotionless, a belt looped around his wrist.
I could pray to God, but I've done it so many times and nothing's improved. Instead, I conjure up an image of my mom. She died some time ago, but the memory of her is still fresh. I think I'll always miss her as long as I live.
"Mama, help me," I whisper. Then the closet door flies open and my senses are attacked.
AN: Yes, I deleted that story I wrote about young Four and Eric. I didn't like where it was going, so I decided to rewrite it from scratch and not post it until I had the ending planned out. I'm gonna try to update regularly, but some chapters might be delayed because I have work.
Shout-out to lexinthecity and Revenant12 for sticking with this story. Your wonderful comments always kept me going!