I do not own anything, just my ideas!
Chapter 14
TRIS
I see stars; they're shining all around me. I can't tell if they are real or if they have come from my imagination. Slowly, they disappear one by one till I am alone. Alone. I feel so alone, but I can't pinpoint just why.
Then, like hitting a huge wall, it crashes on me. The pain is impossible to avoid; my body throbs and my head hurts. I look at my hands, and I see bruises and blood. My head hurts too much to think, and I want to get up, but my body won't let me. I look around and I see my naked body sprawled on the bed, with my ripped clothes on the floor.
I have to get up, but I can't. I don't have the energy or the will power to even pull my body to sit up. Small trails of blood go across my shoulder, falling and forming a small puddle on the hardwood floor. My instincts tell me to grab my shirt next to me and put pressure on it. Another part of me paralyzes my limbs and allows myself to grow weaker and weaker. Maybe this is it. Maybe I can do it. What if I could die right here? I could do it, just bleed to death. But I know the cut would need to be deeper in order for it to happen.
Instinct wins, and I press the shirt on my open skin and feel it soak up. I try to comfort myself. Maybe I sing, I don't know, but I do fall asleep.
When I wake from the morning light, I manage to find the will to walk to the bathroom attached to my bedroom. I try to avoid the mirrors on my way, because I can't bring myself to face it. I want to deny anything happened, that everything I'm feeling is just one big misunderstanding, a part of my imagination. My heart drops when I enter my bathroom and there is someone standing in the full body mirror; someone I don't recognize. But she moves when I move, and her eyes hold my own.
The person I see in the mirror is weak, and her weaknesses led to her breaking. Her body is not human, it holds different colors on it. Instead of milky cream, I see blue, red, purple, green; it's like facing an alien. There is blood everywhere, especially my chest and crouch. And I am so afraid. I want to make it all go away, I can't stand looking at it. And that 'it' is me. I rush into the shower and try to scrub it all away, every inch of that alien off me. My blubbering tears mix with the water as it streams down my disordered body. When I step out, an alien is replaced with a monster. A monster with tangled, messy hair. A monster with deep bruises of color. A monster with a single mark.
The blade, I see it. Even if it's not really there, I feel its presence. It's coming at me, and I can't stop it. It hurts so much. I can't tell what's real, and it scares me. I can't breathe and I see his face, his eyes. They are so black and lifeless. I am not the monster, he is. I am not a monster, but I am something worse. As much as I want to deny what happened, I can't. It takes all my will to push it out of my mind, but it stays and there is nothing I can do about it. I was raped.
I was raped. I am weak. I am worthless... How could I let this happen? I should've been strong enough, but he overpowered me. Maybe I can convince myself it was just one horrible nightmare, but the pain all over my body fights against that. Each movement brings shots of pain. I lay myself on the ground, tired and wanting nothing more than to turn to dust on the floor.
I jolt awake screaming, and my face is melted with tears. I can't breathe; it's like someone has wrapped their hands around my throat and I can't find air for my burning lungs. I let out a huge scream to bring me to life. It comes out scratchy and it hurts my dry throat. I try again and it is more fluid, loud and fearful. No matter how hard I try, my nightmares never leave me. Some nights I can find relief; those nights have been coming slowly more and more as time has goes by.
Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I'd given up. I wanted to scream. I wanted to burst into tear. I wanted to kill myself. But all I could do was stare at the wall in silence.
But at that moment, I also wanted mercy. I wanted the pain to leave me as soon as it came, but I wasn't that lucky. I lived, and let me say, it sucked. Swallowing what happened while the rest of the world moved forward. I was left living with the worst horror life could offer, and everything else went on, like nothing happened. My brother and his precious team went on to win the state championship. Both he and Peter are playing football at Big 10 schools. Me, I barely passed my classes, lost touch with every 'friend' I had, and when people found out about her, I dealt with the weight of bullying.
I can't take it anymore, I have to get out of this room. I feel like the walls are slowly closing in and I can't find a way to break free. I look outside and see that the sun is trying to break the barrier of the horizon. I quietly walk down the hall to the study and climb out the window. If you asked me why I liked this place so much, I probably would not be able to give a better answer than 'I don't know'. Whenever I feel like I need to feel free, I find myself climbing to the roof.
Maybe it's the breeze that I feel up there. Maybe it's the ability to see the world around me more clearly. Maybe it's the height off the ground. Either way, I can think more clearly up here and it is kind of a place of my own; like my own little chasm, but it is high up instead of hidden below. I have made it my own space; if you lift the bench seat along the one wall, you can pull out pillows and blankets. I have Christmas lights and wind-chimes hanging along the perimeter.
I just sit there, waiting for the world's weight to finally break me. I thought I was getting better; I mean I was trying, right? The sun is just now beginning to rise and it is turning the sky into a million different colors. I can't help but wonder if the sky hides away such beauty because it is ashamed of it. I can't really talk, though.
So I just lay there, watching the sky lose its wonderful colors and settle upon its naturally pure blue. Not one cloud is in the sky. I don't know how long I've been up here, but I don't really care. I do not want to go back down and face the reality of the world below. A few times I hear Tori call my name, but I ignore the calls. It must be getting closer to the later part of the morning, because I can feel my stomach grumble. As if I'm actually going to eat.
I hear footsteps approaching, and Tori is standing above me. The look on her face is one that I am familiar with. And it reads just like the other times; she knows. She may not know everything but she had to have heard me last night. She knows something went wrong, but she knows not to ask about what exactly happened just yet.
"You can't pretend nothing happened, and we will talk about it later." She says, "But for now, I will give you your space. I have to go run a few errands, anyway." She turns and begins to walk away, but she hesitates and stops. She turns around and walks back, but this time she bends down so we are closer.
"What ever happened... You can trust me with it, you know. This is your home, and I want you to have more. You deserve more than what you've gotten. Just, don't shut away. You don't have to be afraid anymore." I swallow what she says, but my mind is too gone to think clearly. And so it is just me again, laying on my roof, but it is short lived.
I hear footsteps approaching not much longer after they had left. I thought Tori was leaving, why is she coming back? Has time really gone by that fast? No, it has only been a few minutes. Then, to my horror, the one person I did not want to see materializes on my roof.
Four is standing there, looking at me. But I'm not expecting the look he is giving. I'm expecting him to give me a look of horror, or disgust. However, his eyes are soft and it takes me aback. I stare at him.
Who is this person?
Why do I always find myself with him, talking to him, thinking about him?
"Tris..." He says and I look away. I can't take it, I can't look him in the eye. Before I know it, I feel his presence next to mine.
"What are you doing here?" I ask.
"I wanted to make sure you are all right."
"Well, you're wasting your time, I'm never all right. You should just leave."
"I'm not going to do that. I'm not going to leave you."
"Can't you see I just want to be alone?" I yell at him.
"No, you don't. You don't want to be alone," he says in a calming voice. "I can see that you put up walls to hide behind, but you can't hide forever."
I turn to look at him with confusion running along my face and mind. All I can manage is, "You don't know anything."
"Maybe," he responds, "Maybe I don't know what exactly happened to you, or how much hurt you feel. But I want to tell you, though, you don't have to be so afraid."
I don't know how to respond to this. I don't have to be afraid? I try not to be, but it's all I've known for the longest time. Besides, no one has ever cared before; no one has given me the time to help me. I've never been given someone's sympathy, besides Tori. So I guess I don't know how to accept help.
Neither of us say anything for a while, until Four speaks up.
"We're both worried about you, Tori and I." He pauses. "I know you haven't known me for a while, but listen to me. I care about you; you're my friend and I know you carry something on your back that crushes you with every step you take. But I'm here to tell you that you don't need to carry it all on your own."
I don't know what to do, part of me wants to tell him, but part of me fears his reaction. I am about to shrug it away and tell him to leave me alone, but I don't. He came here. He's afraid of heights yet he is on my roof. He didn't run when he saw my scar, I did. He sincerely cares enough to want to help me. But I'm not ready to trust him just yet...
"You... you don't think I'm a freak? I mean, you saw it... "
"Tris, it doesn't matter what I saw, what I see is different. I see someone who's been hurt, and you hide that scar like you hide your problems."
What if keeping what's bottled up inside isn't what is best? But I'm not ready to tell him everything—one day, maybe, but not today. "You know, I've never really told anyone. Well, not directly. Except Tori. How do I know I can trust you?"
"You can't. But you can trust me, I promise you that."
And his pure eyes are what really convince me.
"I was 15 years old," I sigh. "He was bigger than me and he had a knife held against me. When I tried to get away, he cut me." I pull down my shirt, just enough to reveal my scar more clearly. I avoid his eyes.
"Did he…?"
Again, I avoid his eyes. The words come out as if I'm in a trance. "Doesn't feel good when you're not ready."
"He forced you?"
"It was my fault. I was the one. I shouldn't have smiled as much. I should have fought more."
The tears are threatening to spill. Thinking about what happened is different than saying it out loud. It's a lot harder and more real. I look up to him, and it looks like he isn't breathing. But what scares me the most is the look in his eyes, like he is a bomb about to explode.
"You were attacked. That is in no way your fault," he says. "Who was it? What happened?"
I turn away, not wanting to show my weakness. I know I shouldn't tell him everything, an ancient instinct engraved into me. I feel his hand touch my back.
"It's okay, Tris. You can let yourself be in pain. You don't have to put up that wall, it's just me here. And you don't have to be afraid anymore." His voice is so gentle, a friend I don't know how to accept, and his words are so pure...
A part of me thinks it is all a ruse, or even a dream. People never want to help me. Every day I fade away, a little part of me turning to gray and then to black. I am not completely gone, but almost. But others don't bother trying to help the person who is fading. They would rather try and help the person who is already gone. I'm close enough.
Either way, I collapse into a stream of tears and fall backwards into his embrace. He wraps his arms around me as my back shakes against his chest. I hear him whisper, "What did he do to you?"
"He... He ra-... I..." I can't get it out, like it refuses to get coughed up. Another instinct. "I... I was raped."
His grip around me gets stronger and I can feel his muscles tighten up. I don't need to turn around to see his face; he must be holding back every ounce of anger. But him holding onto me gives me stability, because I said it.
I told someone the truth. Well, part of the truth.
"Who... What low-life bastard did that to you?" He says, and I can't tell him. I am not ready. You could say I've come to accept the rape in a way that I can kind of deal with it; all the extra stuff that goes with it, not so much. Everything with Caleb... I just can't, but maybe that's the next step.
"I... it's too much." I cry out, "It doesn't matter anymore."
"It does matter. Tris, he did the worst possible thing a person could do, to you."
"I can't... I mean, he got away," with it. "He's gone and there is nothing to do anymore, except to just move on. That's what I've been trying to do kind of... But..."
"You can't think of it that way; you can't just let him get away with it!"
"He has for the past two years, and no one gives a damn about me, no one has."
"I do, Tori does, and Christina and everybody else." He says, and his voice is strained. He turns me around so we are face to face. "Look at me, you aren't alone; we're all here for you. As much as I want to murder the guy who did this to you... I can't. You want to put this behind you, and maybe one day I can convince you to change your mind. But for now, I am here for you, as your... friend."
It takes everything in me to not completely melt into nothingness; these past few hours have been more than my body can handle, and I think Four can see that. I feel myself drifting more and more away, and he takes my hand and half guides me, half carries me back inside the house. He lays me on the couch in the living room and gently lets a blanket fall on me.
"Thanks." I tell him and it doesn't feel like enough. He nods his head and begins to walk away, but quickly grab his hand, stopping him from leaving. I don't want him to leave; I want him to stay here, holding my hand. Sleeping has brought vigorous moments I don't want to face alone, and I realize that. He gives me stability in a way I can't describe. So it is him and me, hand in hand, and I keep holding on just because I want to.
"I'm not used to it, you know. I just want you to know that I'm trying; I want to be better, I just don't know how after all this time." I tell him, "Thank you, Four. Thank you for being here for me."
"Tobias. My name is Tobias." He tells me, and I don't know if I take it all in, or it flies away from me. Tobias; his name is Tobias. And Tobias is my friend, or maybe...
"Thank you, Tobias." I say with a small smile reaching my lips and sleep overcoming me.
Author's Note
I recently went back and added some parts that were inspired by OITNB. Please review!
Be brave, everyone!
