I do now own anything, just my ideas!
Chapter 31
TRIS
No one will believe you...
The venom from his words replay over and over again in my mind. A reminder of what happened in the past, and what is inevitable in the future. His words are poison, making their run through my veins and penetrating my heart.
No one will believe you...
No one...
...
"Tris? Are you in there?" A voice beckons to me.
I break from my daydream and remember where I am. I sit in a chair which, even with its demeaning ora, feels overly uncomfortable. Maybe it's what the chair means... The truth. And I've never been one to be too comfortable with the truth. In no time, this room will be packed with people, all cramming in to hear each precious detail.
And soon enough, in this chair, I will tell the world about everything, including Rose. The thought sends shivers down my spine. I tried to tell Tobias the truth, I really wanted to, but I couldn't do it. I can't face him with that bomb.
"Tris?" The Assistant District Attorney, Jack Kang says. For the past hour, he's been going through my testimony, making sure it is bulletproof and ready. He's preparing me for war, training me to withstand the blows Peter's defense will not think about sparing.
"Sorry. A lot on my mind."
"The trial?"
"It's not the trial, exactly..."
"You're not having second thoughts?"
"No," I say, but the look he gives me says he knows there is something up.
"You shouldn't be lying while sitting up there."
"Sorry, I just, am afraid that no one will believe me again, just like the last time."
"You don't need to worry about that. We have a really solid case and I am going to do everything in my power to get the truth out and justice served."
"Okay..."
"That's not too reassuring."
"Neither is your word that Peter is going to be put away," I spit out, frustration getting the better of me.
After a silence that last an amount of time I do not keep track of, he says, "Do you want to take a break? I can get you a drink of water."
"That sounds like a good idea." I step off the stand and my steps are light as I trace away from the truthful chair.
As I fill my cup with water from the fountain, he says, "Are you going to tell me what's bothering you? Or do I have to wait till the middle of the trial for you to drop a bombshell on me?"
"It's... nothing like that," I begin, "Besides the fact that the last time I pointed the finger at Peter people didn't' believe me," I admit a sigh, "I haven't exactly told my friends about the baby. I'm afraid of their reaction."
"Not even the boyfriend?"
I shake my head. "Almost, but I couldn't do it. I should have, but I can't bare how he'll react. Especially when I've had all these chances to tell him... There's a part of me that is convinced I can still keep it from them."
"Take it from someone in law, the truth always finds a way to smack us across the face, but set us free at the same time."
"That makes me feel better."
"It's not something to fear."
"That's easy for you to say; you're not the one with all the secrets." And that is an understatement. My whole life when I came to Chicago was one big secret, almost a lie. Slowly, each one has peaked above the surface and exposed itself for everyone to see.
"You're right; they aren't my secrets. But I'm human, and I have secrets of my own. Everyone does. It's finding the strength to set the hidden secrets free. At least, setting them free to the people we care about." He throws away his cup, "Why don't we go back in and finish up for the day?"
My fist clench the bottom edge of my coat. I squeeze, trying to relieve the pressure that builds with every passing minute. I stopped trying to control my breathing a while ago. Not much was being accomplished.
People, so many people keep walking into the court room. They all sport different accessories. There is a short man with the glasses holding a sketchbook and pencil. Many people, regardless of size, carry notebooks and observant eyes; eyes that dart and read, and hands that tap and scribble. Then there are the personal; Peter's family, standing behind him and emptying their wallets for the possibility of him getting set free.
And that is when I see him, sitting in the corner. It's like he is trying to blend in and hide away from the war that is about to begin. I only look at him for a moment, then turn away. I don't want to get trapped in the gaze of his eyes. But just one look at him, and something comes over me. A fear that goes back over two years...
6. What is the equation of a linear line that goes through point (4, 5) and has a slope of m=3/2?
Y = (3/2)x-1
I may not be as smart as Caleb can be, but I'm not completely stupid. Dad insisted that I not be placed in the Honors portion of Algebra I; so here I am, breezing through normal Algebra homework. I would have a higher grade in that class, but I can't get my mind to concentrate.
Once I manage to finally focus my mind on the work, terror streams in and shatters the concentration that I'd previously worked so hard to achieve. I can't work long without horrible thoughts creeping in and taking over my head.
All I can think about is the night terrors that leave me countless nights without sleep; the monster, the one who's the root of the terror, flocking around giving me that look that sends my heart racing and to a halt all at the same time. And the life growing inside of me.
I hear the front door open, and Caleb's voice travels across the house. "Beatrice?"
"Yeah, I'm... I'm in the kitchen." I yell up from my homework that I've been working on for far longer than I should.
His footsteps are broad, making an entrance. He is normally more discrete, treading softly after an afternoon of weight lifting. But today he is loud, something being held inside himself so tightly it will burst.
"Hey," he says as he walks into the room. His voice is sharp, and it has been a while since I've heard it like that. It scares me.
I want to keep the conversation away from me, like always. It shouldn't be that hard. "How was weight lifting?"
"Alright..."
"Are you okay?"
He looks at me for the first time and his eyes drill holes into me. His analyzing me-either trying to figure something out, or confirm an idea he has pre-drilled into his mind. Probably the latter. Once an idea gets planted in there and spreads, there is no stopping the cancer that takes over. "... Since when have you been wearing all those sweatshirts?" He asks, avoiding my question.
"It's winter; I'm cold. Since when do you care or notice what I wear?"
"Forget it." He says with a shake of his head, "And by the way, I'm having some of the guys over tonight."
I tense up. I know what the means. He will be here. In this house. Where he... he...
"Okay, I'll just be in my room tonight," I say, trying as hard as I can to stay calm and non-shalont.
"Is there something wrong with the guys coming over?"
I can't tell him. Well, there are a lot of things I can't tell him. I can't tell him that is best friend raped me. I can't tell him I'm pregnant. I can't tell him that the same monster who comes to our house all the time is the father of that child. I can't tell him anything. I can't tell him.
"Beatrice?"
"Do whatever you guys want. That's how it always is," I grab my books and papers, "I'll go to my room now."
"Wait," he grabs my arm, "is there something you want to say to me? Because today at practice I heard som..."
"No! Just, leave me alone. That's what you've always done anyway."
He knew... how he knew, I can assume Peter had something to do with it. But no matter, he knew. And that night will be the beginning of a horrible riff that still stands between us.
I'm late.
Tobias, Tori, and I walked into the court house with enough time to navigate through the reporters outside. But I urged them to walk ahead while I went to the bathroom. As soon as I left the restrooms, a crowd of reporters had migrated over. By the time I push my way out, I find myself rushing through the lobby and hallways to get to the court room.
I glance to my side for only a second, but it is long enough to loose sight of my path. And that blind-spot causes me to run into a man with papers. There aren't that many, but the few that were in his hands fall to the ground. While part of me urges to run away to get to court on time, the persistent voice in my head tells me to stop and help.
I bend down and group up some of the papers to give to him. "Sorry," I mumble to him.
He is an older man, wearing a smile and a navy-blue suit. "Don't worry about it. I should stop standing in the middle of the hallway."
"Yeah... Well, I've got to go."
I try to walk away, but he continues to talk. "Running from the press?"
"More like trying to get to the court room on time."
"The Hayes trial?"
"Yes."
"I'm heading that way, anyway. I'll walk you there."
I'd rather walk by myself, but I can't say no because he is already by my side. And I just ran into him.
I'm also fine with walking in silence, but he begins to speak, "I'm sorry, but do I know you? You look vaguely familiar."
"No, I don't think we've meet. But the press isn't following me because of my shining personality."
"No, they aren't," he pauses, "My name's David, by the way."
"Tris."
He slows his pace, something in his mind clicking. "Is that short for something?"
"Yeah..." I'm hesitant to talk to this stranger whose name is apparently David, "Beatrice."
He laughs to himself, "Beatrice, Beatrice Prior?"
"Yes... Do I know you?"
"No," his smile generally goes to his eyes, "But I knew your mother."
I come to a stop. There it is. The one thing from my past I didn't think would come up. But my mom was a regular with the court house because of her job, and we resemble each other so much. Even though she's been gone...
"I thought you looked familiar. It's like looking at a younger version of her. I worked with her before the accident." Before the accident... Before everything turned upside-down... Before my whole life fell apart... "I'm sorry if I'm..."
"No, don't worry about it," I say, but my eyes stay glued to the ground.
"Well, here's my card," he hands me a clean-cut business card, "if you ever need anything, or just want to talk, I'll be there. She was a good person, and a good friend."
"Thanks," I say as we get to the doors of the court room.
"Good luck."
That was weird. For one thing, I don't think I've ever met him, nor do I remember my mother mentioning a man named David. And I haven't talked to anyone who knew my mom, besides Tori, in years. It's hard that the Peter thing is getting pulled up and out for the world to see. But now my mom has found her way of getting out.
"You're going to be alright. I promise. I will be right there the whole time," Tobias tells me, rubbing my shoulders. We stand in the hallway, waiting for the officer to call my name. After two and a half years, I will finally give my testimony against Peter.
"I know..." I take a deep breathe, hoping the new air will calm my nerves, "This is really happening, isn't it?"
"You don't need to be afraid of him."
"It's not him I'm afraid of..."
His face holds concern, "You can tell me anything."
"I... I know."
He sighs, "I wish you would trust me..."
"I do." Trusting you isn't the problem, "It's trial nerves... Who knows what could happen in there. Just, promise me one thing..."
"What is it?"
"Whatever does happen in there, please don't freak out. Just, try to understand."
"Why would I freak out?"
I shrug, "The defense might pull whatever they can to break me, or..."
"Beatrice Prior?" A voice beckons, "You're up."
"Good luck," Tobias says, placing a kiss on my cheek. As he pulls away, he whispers, "Be brave."
I nod to him and walk to the court room doors. Right as I place my hand on the knob, it turns and opens. I am faced with green eyes.
I don't say anything to Caleb as I walk in, leaving him behind me.
I can't sleep. Not with him just feet away. The door is locked, a chair propped in front of the door. He will not see me tonight, and me not him.
With the thought of him on my mind constantly, his voice traveling through the vents to me-making me choke on the air-I didn't finish my algebra homework. I couldn't do anything, just try to distract myself in any way possible.
Just when I begin to feel the weight of my eyelids crashing down, a knock at the door sends me into an alerting buzz. My throat is scratchy, and I barely get out, "Who is it?"
"It's Caleb."
"I'm trying to sleep."
"Beatrice, open it now!" His voice is on the edge of a scream.
It scares me, and I travel to the door and open it. I make sure I place a jacket on before answering the door; my stomach is getting larger.
"What do you want?" I look past him in the hallway, there is no one there, "Don't you have friends over?"
"They just left."
"Good, now I can get some sleep."
"Wait." he slams his foot down next to the door, blocking it from closing. "There is something you're not telling me."
"What are you talking about?"
"Earlier in the kitchen, I asked you... And you are keeping something from me."
"So? Last time I checked, there are things you don't tell me. And how would you know I'm keeping something from you?"
"I've been hearing things." My stomach drops to the floor.
"Like... like what?" I say, or at least I think I say it.
His face hardens; a stone wall built across it. "... Are you pregnant?"
Damn it.
"Tell us about your home life leading up to the attack," Jack asks me.
I twist in the uncomfortable chair. Truth, Tris... You have to tell the truth. "In a word... Alone."
"Alone?"
"Yes. Well, not at first. My mom, she was like my best friend and she died when I was eleven. After that, my dad, brother, and I drifted apart. My dad does business with the government and tends to be out of town a lot. And my brother, he just went in a different direction from me and got closer to football and his friends. He's a sophomore at Michigan... So, yes-alone is a good way to describe what life was like before the attack."
"And the night of the attack, you were alone?"
"Yes. My brother was having a party, but... It was always better for me to be on my own. Stay out of his business. But that night, I was trying to draw... Something that's always made me feel better because it was a love my mother and I shared...
"Anyway, the noise of the party became too much. I went to find Caleb, and while I was out of my room, the others convinced me to stay a while and relax. After a little while, I decided to go back to my room. Alone. Again."
"Now, what happened next?"
"He came into my room, drunk. And he pinned me down on my bed."
"Did you fight?"
"Yes, I tried to fight back, but he had a knife held against me. I begged him to stop, to let me go. But he didn't, just kept... touching me. I kept fighting, though, but he cut me. That sent me into shock. I couldn't move. I couldn't feel. I couldn't do anything. I was paralyzed, being abused on my own bed, in my own house.
"Then, once I was broken to a point where I couldn't move, he raped me. After that I blacked out, and I didn't wake up until the next morning."
"And is the man who attacked you in this court room?"
"Yes. Him," I point, "Peter Hayes raped me."
My voice echoes off the walls, adding emphasis to the statement. Something grows in the air. It is thick and thin all at the same time. While it is heavy, there is a sense of freedom.
"And how old were you when you were attacked?" Kang continues.
"15. I was a freshman in high school."
"And how old was your attacker?"
"17. He was junior at my school."
"Now, why did it take you so long to report the attack?"
"I was afraid. Peter had come back on multiple occasions threatening me to stay quiet."
"So you decided to keep it a secret?"
"I thought if I could convince myself it didn't happen, that would make everything better. Everyone else was carrying on with their lives, why couldn't I?"
"But word did come out, didn't it?"
"... Yes, yes it did."
"And you still didn't press charges?"
"No. Because no one believed me. Everyone at school called me every name in the book from liar to slut. And... and..."
"And what?"
"My brother, the one pers..." I choke down a cry, "The one person that should've believed me, stood by me, and helped me... didn't. He thought I was a liar... He's my brother. Him, above all others, should have been by my side. But he abandoned me."
I try to collect myself, pull back the emotion so I can finish and get out of this stupid chair. I look out and I connect my eyes with Caleb for the first time. "What I said before, that I felt alone before it happened... Well, that was nothing compared to after. Deserted. Abandoned. That's how I felt. Everyone who I thought cared, just left me like I was nothing. That's why I didn't press charges... because I was nothing, a nobody. And who would believe a nobody?"
A silence falls on the room; no one moves, each person taking in every word I say and letting it sink in. Mouths are hung open, and red eyes line the benches. Reporters, with their greed for knowledge, sit back in their seats after prying for every detail at the edge of their seats.
"And that is why you kept it to yourself?"
"Yes. And I was going to stay quiet, but a secret like that never stays buried."
"Tell the court, Ms. Prior, why you could not keep the rape a secret."
I take a deep breath, keeping my eyes closed in on the ring at the bottom of the chain wrapped around my neck. "Rose. I couldn't keep it a secret because of her."
Whispers rise around the room, but Jack asks, "Who is Rose?"
I look up, and my eyes scan the room of varying faces. And I land on Tobias. He is expressionless, his mouth in a firm line, his stare blank. His hands, crossed over his chest, clasp his arms so hard his knuckles are white. I have to tell him. Not because I took an oath to tell the truth. Because I love him. And with that love, comes the oath of telling him the truth, even if he should have known before this day.
"Rose is... She's..." I connect my eyes with his, and I stare deep into them. Please forgive me. "Rose is my daughter. The rape got me pregnant."
"... Are you pregnant?"
Caleb's hand reaches out and grabs my jacket, trying to rip it away. "Caleb, stop!"
"Is it true?"
"Where is this coming from? What makes you think I'm pregnant?"
He rips off the jacket, and my t-shirt underneath does nothing to conceal my baby-bump. "So, it is true?"
I take the jacket back and turn away from him, sitting down on my bed. I suck in the tears that threaten to fall. Silently, I say, "Go away. It's what you're best at."
"Beatrice," and when he says it, his voice is soft, "what happened? When did it happen? How-"
"You suddenly care? Or are you just trying to find a way to mop up this mess so it doesn't affect your precious image?"
"Just answer one question... Who's the father?"
"I... I don't have to tell you anything."
"I'm your older brother... I deserve to know." Deserve to know?! Deserve?! By ignoring me? Letting his friend attack me?
No.
He would never understand because he wouldn't let himself. He has this image in his head and he will never derive from it.
"You wouldn't understand..."
"Understand what?"
"Whatever picture you have in your head, whatever you may think or say... I can't tell you because you won't believe me. Part of me hopes you will, but I know you won't."
He grips both my shoulders with his hands, his eyes pleading for the answer. Because that's all he wants: an answer. That's it; nothing more. "Tell me!"
"Oww, Caleb that hurts."
"I'm not leaving here until you tell me."
"Raped! I was raped!" I crumple in his arms, losing the small amount of strength I momentarily had just a few moments ago. We both sink to the floor, and maybe my mind is playing tricks on me, but his arms wrap around me as I cry.
"Beatrice... Who, who was it?"
All I can do is shake my head, "No, I can't tell you."
"Tell me right now! Or else-"
"Or else what? You'll ignore me? You won't talk to me? You'll act like nothing in this house wrong but we both know it is?!" I stand up, my bottled anger giving me new strength, "Too fucking late! These walls hide biggest shit of a mess there is."
He tries to interrupt me, trying to calm me down or something else. I'll never know because I don't let him stop me from finishing.
"I'm not done! The worst..." I choke a little, my eyes burn, "The worst part is that you want to know so badly, yet when you find out, you won't believe me."
He takes another death grip on me, pressing me further, "Tell me! Tell me right now, Beatrice!"
"Peter! It was Peter!" I yell, not looking at his eyes.
His grip on me falls away. "What? P-Peter?" He runs a hand through his hair, curses running across his tongue.
The shock of what just happened sinks in. The anger overcame me and blocked my better judgement. "No... I mean... but it wasn't..."
"Is it yes or no?" He says abruptly.
"Yes... He raped me!" I say concretely, through sobs. At first, I don't think he understands my muffled words, or he is more understanding than I thought he'd be. I think, for a moment, he believes me and will stand by me. But then a stone wall is built again, and this time, there is no possible way of taking it down.
"You're lying." Is all he says.
"What?!" I stop my crying and pull myself up to stare him eye-to-eye. My voice is deadly. "No. I'm not. I would never lie about something like that."
"You have to be... Peter would never do that!"
"Well, he did." And before I know it, Caleb is storming out the room. "Where are going?"
"As far away from you as I can possibly get."
In this moment, staring at the look he gives me, I realize I can't do this on my own. I need him. I need someone to stand with me as the painful next few months threaten to trample me.
"Wait! Caleb, please... please don't leave me. Please don't leave me here alone. I can't stand to be alone anymore."
"I can't look at you." His words hurt more as they sink in down to me. "I can't..."
He walks away, having his answer, just like he wanted. And a sister he obviously doesn't care about broken down, just like he didn't want.
"You just can't leave me like this!"
At this point I am running after him, begging him to stay with me. I don't remember feeling this desperate. It's like it was all bottled up, holding in until my hopeless need for any kind of love or help has become too much.
"Would you please just listen to me?! For once in your life?!" I scream, my throat coarse from my sobs. I reach for his arm and try to pull him back to me. But he overpowers me and throws me back, knocking me on the ground. I look at his face; his eyes are dark, bringing out the green in his eyes, a perfect disguise for envy and pride.
"What the hell can you say? You're trying to say my best friend ra-" His nostrils flair, "You have twenty seconds before I walk away."
I am desperate; I can't lose him. "You... You promised! You promised mom you would look after me. YOU PROMISED HER! Now, Mom's dead, and dad's been gone ever since... You're all I have left... Please, please don't leave me."
He doesn't look at me, just walks out the door. Without a single word.
"You may step down now, Ms. Prior," the judge tells me; the only thing I fully comprehend. And I tumble out of the damn chair and create the greatest distance from it that I possibly can. I don't fully comprehend what had happened after Rose was fully exposed to the world.
Everyone in law sing praises of the truth, but they never tell you how much it cost. And at the moment, I do not know the unbearable debt I have to pay.
So instead of walking back to my spot on the bench next Tobias and Tori, I run out of the court room. I don't even bother looking at them or saying anything. All I do is make a beeline to the bathroom and start getting sick, letting go of the last bit of control I have.
Author's Note
I want to make a few things clear. In the last chapter, and in this chapter, I have used many Insurgent quotes for some of Tris' thoughts with Rose, the guilt of keeping the secret, and finally telling everyone. I did it this way because I wanted this story to correlate with the books as best it can. And having Tris tell the truth, UNDER OATH, (cough, cough... Truth Serum) makes it stays true to the book.
Be brave, everyone!
QUOTES
1). I look in the mirror, and I try to see myself. My head's full of terror... I try to see clearer. I try and forget the fires I started. I try to be nearer… I look in the mirror, and I try to understand... Piece it together; I can't see the ending... there are people around my every secret –Mirror, Ellie Goulding, song
2). Or I'd have to explain why. What would he think of me, if he knew what I've been keeping from him? How would he look at me? –Insurgent, book
3). Maybe time would not feel as heavy if I didn't have this guilt-the guilt of knowing the truth and stuffing it down where no one can see it, not even Tobias. Maybe I should not be so afraid of saying anything, because honesty will make me feel lighter. –Insurgent, book
4). Look at me, I will never pass as a perfect daughter... Can it be... I was never meant to play that part? And... now I see, that if I were truly to be myself... I will break my family's heart. –Reflection, song
Congratulations to: pappayaa, H3110-5UN5H1N3, GuestYAY, divergentlover29, Guest, and Elisabeth Marie.
There are two (book, book) quotes in this chapter.
