Author's Note
A reader brought to my attention that the topics in this chapter have the potential to be hard on certain people. Honestly, I feel like a lot of stuff in my story can be sensitive, but for those who wish to avoid reading it for personal choices, I have a chapter summary at the bottom.
I do not own anything, just my ideas.
Chapter 41
TRIS
Every time the weight bearing down on the wood becomes too much, the wooden tower breaks and the weight falls on the platform with a loud thud. It makes me jump almost every time.
Because my last name is at the end of the alphabet, I am one of the last towers to get crushed. The crushing machine is a big wooden contraption. At the bottom there is a platform with different markings on it. (Mostly boxes and circles for people to place their towers.) And a long pipe runs up and through the middle. The tower is supposed to sit on the platform, through the pole, and a large board of wood sits on top of the tower - making a wood sandwich.
Next to all the wood is a cart of weights from the weight room. One of the guys from our teacher's AP Physics class, Fernando, takes the weights and carefully puts them through the pipe and lays them on the wooden board that is on our towers. With every weight that is added on, you can hear the slightest cracking until the whole tower breaks. And then the thud.
After a few towers, though, I get used to the loud thud.
There is a nervous excited feeling going around the room. I wish I could've had my tower crushed first, but instead I have to wait. And because I am so small, I can't see around the heads that are around the crushing machine. (And I still hate crowds.) So I go to the back and sit on one of the desks. It works itself out because I can watch the towers being crushed, but if I want to look down at my sketchbook and draw, I can.
Because we are taking exams, the period lengths is longer, and we don't take all the exams on one day. The schedule is mixed around. Right now after this class, I have one more until I am done with all my exams. And then summer starts.
At some point early on, people in the class start to make bets on how much each tower will hold up. One in particular comes up and I can tell in my head that it won't hold much. I don't pipe in on the betting, but others mock the poorly constructed tower. They mock Al.
First a 10 pound weight is placed on the tower. I hear the piercing cracks immediately, and I know the tower will break with the next weight. The 5 pound weight is lightly placed on the stack and the splitting timbers spark the air and the thud strikes the room. I keep my head down at my sketchbook as Al hurries back to his desk, slamming his destroyed tower into the garbage.
I return my attention to my book, adding more curved lines to the half completed sketch. The drawing has a weight bearing down on someone, but you can't see their face. It's not that I haven't drawn their face; instead, I am drawing the person's back. Everything and everyone around this person with the weight is carrying on with their lives. But the person struggles with the weight.
The person builds, though, stronger and stronger as they hold the weight. But still, it slowly crumbles the person. No matter how strong they get, the weight is becoming too much.
I sigh to myself. To me, when someone wrongs you, you both share the burden of that wrongdoing-the pain of it weighs on both of you. Forgiveness, then, means choosing to bear the weight all by yourself.
My hand twitches as the thought comes into my mind.
I am about to draw a pair of hands, another person that will help bear the weight that is steadily crushing the person. But I stop. Because he has shown no desire to ever take any burden away from me.
Caleb's betrayal is something we both carry. And since he did it, all I've wanted was for him to take the weight away from me. I am not sure I am capable of shouldering it all myself, like the person in the drawing.
But how can that be forgiveness? It does not seem like it should be that way. It shouldn't be that way. There should be no weight... No burden... No pain... There should have been no betrayal to begin with.
Thud
But it happened, all of it, and I can't change that. Yet my world has changed... And so have I.
I have learned to choose and I have learned to say goodbye. I chose to say goodbye. To say goodbye to a life that is gone, a life that has changed. Because change is inevitable; it is how we know we grow up. People change. And we can wish all day that they didn't, but they always will... But, is that always a bad thing?
Snap
My pencil breaks as I scribble the darker lines of my drawing. As I get up to sharpen my pencil, I hear my teacher, Mrs. Reese, call my name for my tower to be crushed. I walk to my desk, grab my tower, and make my way to the crushing machine. I place my 10 gram tower through the pipe and Fernando lays the board on top.
He begins to add the weights. There are no cracks. He continues to add the weight, and I get to the point where our teacher adds torque. My tower holds strong. It gets to 90 pounds when I begin to hear faint cracks.
My tower falls at 120 pounds.
I grab my tower and take a quick picture with it to send to Tobias. I throw away what's left of my crushed tower, take my grade sheet with the big "A" on it, and return to the desk I was sitting on. I send the picture to Tobias and grab my notebook and continue working on my sketch.
It is now that I realize I had left it open on that sketch. I look around and see the class is swarmed around the crushing machine, and I convince myself no one saw my drawing. So I pick up my pencil and bring it to the paper. But I don't make any markings.
I take a long look at it, deciding whether to draw the extra set of supporting hands or to leave them out. Would I even accept the help? After all this time, what if I am too stubborn to take the extra help? What if I already have the strength inside myself? That strength, maybe it comes from something else.
I decide to leave the almost complete picture be, deciding to finish it another day (just like a lot of my drawings) and I turn to a new clean sheet. The memory of Tobias and UK and football fills my mind and I begin to scribble down a wildcat.
It isn't long before I feel someone behind me, creeping behind my shoulder.
I turn and say, "Al."
"Hi," he says as he moves to my side. "You're not watching?"
I look up and peer over the crowd of heads just as another tower breaks. The number of towers is dwindling down to almost nothing. I say, "No. After mine, I have no desire to really watch. Besides, the bell is going to ring in a few minutes."
"What's that?" He asks, pointing to my wildcat drawing.
Out of instinct, I pull my sketchbook closer to me. My drawings are too close to me, too much of a window to my mind and my heart. Only me and those closest to me see my pictures.
I say, "Uhh, I'm drawing the Kentucky Wildcat."
As I say this, I feel something cold against my leg. I look down and nearly drop my sketchbook. Even under his hand I can see it. Lying between Al and I is a black, cold gun. And the safety is unhatched.
My heart immediately drops, and I quickly avert my eyes back up, suppressing my fear. But I know it is still there. I know that Al can see that fear. I take a deep breath, hesitantly placing my hand on Al's. I try to keep my hands steady, adrenaline already pumping through my body.
"Al... You, you should p-put it away. This isn't the place for th-that," I take a deep breath. "Come on, I can help you put it away."
"I told you. I can protect you." There is a fire in his eyes. I can't tell where it comes form, nor where it will go. So I try to kindle the light, hoping I can extinguish it before it explodes.
"There is nothing to protect me from. So why don't you put it aw—"
As I say this, a girl in front of the desk I'm sitting on turns their head and sees the gun. The girl yells, and everyone in the class turns.
At first, everyone is frozen, not knowing what to do or what to say. Everyone tentatively backs away. All eyes are on Al, and when he notices, the burning light in his eyes turns into an inferno.
"Al…" Mrs. Reese says.
"Stop!" He yells. "Everyone sit down. Now!"
We all scramble to the desks. I sit in the one I am sitting on. I am the first to sit, but I am also in the front row.
In the rush as the students find any seat, someone accidently bumps Al. It doesn't help that he's on the football team and Al might think the guy is trying to challenge his authority.
"Everyone sit down! And throw your phones to the front of the room."
Some of the students obey, but there are some that claim their phones aren't with them. Al raises the gun.
He shoots at the wall. The sound sends shocks down my spine.
"Everyone! Phones now! And don't talk!"
The rest of the phones are thrown to the front of the room. I can feel beads of sweat forming around my body and my heart is pounding so much it is about to come out of my chest. I can feel the burn of tears in my eyes, but I pull them in. I have to be smart. I have to be strong. I have to be brave.
Think Tris, think.
Al kicks the crushing machine across the room and fastens a stool right in front of the desk I am sitting in. He begins to barricade the doors and cover the windows, locking everything.
As he is doing this, one of the cell phones goes off. Al takes the gun and shoots at the ringing on the floor. There are muffled screams and I grip the end of my shirt to keep from shaking. My grip is so tight, my knuckles go a pale white.
"I'm in charge! I'm fucking in charge! And if any of you tries anything you'll die!"
I take a deep breath.
Minutes tick away. I know it has only been a few minutes, but they drag on, each minute feeling longer than the last. Finally, the bell that marks the end of the period rings. Its sound sends ripples through the quiet but dense air. I can feel the vibrating sound waves. Then there is the noise from the hallway.
No one can see inside, because Al covered the window. I can't help but wonder how long it will take the others to know what is happening. People have to have heard the gunshot. They had to. The sound was so loud. So powerful. So threatening. So deadly.
I have to get out of this. I can get out of this. I will get us all out of this.
There is no way I can overpower him; he is so much bigger than I am, and he has the gun. He's not going to just give it away. And he's not going to just give up. We could all charge at him, but someone could get hurt. But one person for the whole class? He... He just needs to be distracted. We need to follow what he says and keep his temper down.
As Al finishes the barricades, the bell starting the next class has come and gone (its shallow ringing breaking the air). And once he is done, Al takes a seat on the stool in front of me. I know he is looking at me, so I swallow the lump in my throat, build my courage, and look him in the eyes.
Tobias once told me that Al had a thing for me, but I never believed him. I still don't believe him. But I am the only one sitting in front of Al. I grip my legs with my hands to keep myself from shaking. If what Tobias said is true, then maybe I can talk him out of this situation. But I have to be careful. I've never really been good with talking.
Maybe this is all about me. Maybe this is about something else. I know I am taking a chance, but it's the only thing I can think of, talking to him. Because if he is in a conversation, he is not shooting people.
"Al, what are you doing?" I tentatively ask.
"I told you, I'm protecting you."
"What is there to protect me from?"
"You know what. I can see it."
"... See what?"
"There is still something there. Still something that haunts you. And that fucking boyfriend of yours does nothing to help you."
"Well, if this is about you and me, why don't you let our classmates go. We can go some place and talk. It doesn't need to be this way."
"No! Everyone needs to know. Everyone needs to see!"
His temper is rising. Think Tris, think. I need to stop this before someone gets hurt. I need to… Avert the conversation… Change its path.
I am not thinking fast enough, because Al stands up and paces the room, staring down our classmates. I need to get his attention back to me.
"See what, Al? Let's talk. You and me. What's this really about?"
He doesn't answer me, just paces around the room until he comes full circle back to his seat. Then he goes around again. I lose track of the number if times he encircles us, but eventually he stops on me. He says, "You. It's always been about you. Because you understand."
"I understand what?"
He doesn't answer, just looks down to my sketchbook. "Open it."
I comply, hesitantly, but I comply. My sketchbook holds so much in it, and the last thing I want is Al seeing it. But I have to be smart. Right now, I need to put my mind before my heart. Painfully, I peel open my book to a random page.
The picture on the page is one of my rough drafts for the mural I painted back in the fall. Al grabs the book and shows the class.
"See, your stupid mascot!"
"It was for the mural. You remember that, right? I painted it in the cafeteria earlier this year."
He slams the book on my desk. "Go to another page."
I put my finger in a random place and turn to that page. On it lays a picture of the Chicago skyline. I made it when Tobias took me to Navy Pier for the day. I decide to keep the last part to myself.
This time, instead of showing the class, Al grabs the book and flips through the pages. He stops and throws it back on my desk. It is on the drawing I made today. The one with the weight. The one I thought no one saw. I guess I was wrong.
"We are going to play a little game. I am going to ask you questions, and you will tell me the truth. And the class will stay fucking quiet!" He says waving the gun. My heart beats faster and I feel the burn in my eyes.
"Okay," I say. My voice is shallow, and I swallow.
Al leans in and points to the page in the book. "What's this?"
My heart stops. I don't want to talk about it. Not here and not with him. I want to stay quiet. I want to be out of this room. I hate Al for taking something so close to me, and something only the people I love know about, and ripping it out so all can see.
"I just drew this," I say nonchalantly.
"Who's that?" He points to the person holding the weight.
"I don't know… Some random person."
"Liar!" He slams the gun on the desk.
"It's me! Okay? The person holding the weight is me."
"Why are you holding this weight? Is there something holding you down?"
"I don't understand why this is so important."
"Answer the damn question."
I hesitate, and Al lifts his gun and points it at someone in the back. There is a choked yelp. I have to answer, especially if I want to keep Al from shooting anyone. "It's… It's a long story."
"We have time, don't we?"
Part of me crumbles. I already bared my soul in the court room. I have already been plastered, ripped down vulnerably. The last thing I want right now is go through all of this, again, with him. But a long story is talking. And it's a distraction. If I am telling my story, Al won't shoot anyone.
I sigh. "I am holding the weight, and it is slowly crushing me because… my brother hurt me. He turned his back on me when I needed him most. Him and my father both betrayed me, and the burden of that betrayal is crushing me. Because to me, when someone wrongs you, both of you hold that burden. And... And to forgive that person means taking all of the weight."
"Why? When others have hurt you?!"
"Because… Because…" There is a lump in my throat and an ache in my heart. "Because that is what forgiveness means. It means swallowing your pride and understanding they've made a mistake and accepting that—and then moving on. It's understanding all you have, all you had, and all you will gain."
I don't realize is right away, but my cheeks are stained with small patches water. My words are slow and they tremble off my tongue. I look up at Al.
I say, "Are you carrying a burden? Is that why you are doing this?"
He looks down, and for the first time, his eyes darken. Minutes pass by and silence takes over the room. Half an hour passes before Al speaks up. It is so soft, I almost miss it.
"I'm failing," he says. "There is no way I can graduate at this rate and my parents… They're kicking me out. I-I'm a failure."
I hear some muffled shuffles behind me, and I slightly turn my head. Al notices too, and I see his anger rise back up.
"What was that?!" Al screams, walking to the guy. Edward, one of the guys on the football team.
"Nothing," Edward says.
"Quit acting like I am fucking stupid! Everyone! I could kill you right now!"
"Stop it!" I yell, and the words helplessly float away from me. They engulf the room, and I feel all the eyes in the room on me. "You are not a failure. You can't think like that. There's still s-"
"How can I not?!" he says, returning his attention to me. "I have nothing! I have no family, no job, no smarts, no future, NO YOU! No, that fucking jock has you. He has everything and I have nothing!"
"No. Stop." I say, and I don't know if this is challenging his authority or will push him over the edge, but right now, neither matter. My gut is taking over. My heart is becoming more powerful than my mind.
"You have no idea what it is like to have nothing. How can you even say that?"
"Oh really," he says, getting closer. I feel bile rising in my stomach, but I suppress the feeling. I ignore the fear. The fire inside of me rises. I'm awake.
"Let me tell you what nothing is. Nothing is having the one person you love the most in this world die out of nowhere. Nothing is almost dying at the hands of your rapist. Nothing is losing the last bit of family you ever had. Nothing is giving away your child, even though she is also a reminder of a never ending nightmare. Nothing is going through all of it alone."
I stare him right in the eyes the whole time, my vision slightly burning. I say, "Don't tell me about having nothing. Because you still have a chance. You can let these people go. You can change this."
"I… I can't. There is no going back. Everyone knows we are here. Everyone heard the gun! I'm stuck. I can't get out of this!" For the first time, I see fear in his eyes.
"Yes you can. You don't need to be angry. You don't," I choke something down. "You don't need to hate the world so much."
"Why? It looks like you do."
"I did." I say slowly, pulling back. "And maybe I still do. I do not know. But what I do know is that I have faith that things will change… for the better."
"How? What can I do to make things change? Everything is horrible for me. My family hates me. My classmates are fucking ass holes to me! I'm a failure. How can any of that change?!"
I am silent for a moment, nearly choking on the words as they come up. I say slowly and quietly, "Because eventually, we learn to define our happiness for ourselves, on our own terms, in spite of the pain other people have caused us."
There is another silence, and this one seems longer than any of the others. The bell that marks the end of class rings. Because it is exam week, the periods are longer, and right now the day should be over.
Everything I have said, do I believe it? Or am I just saying it to keep Al from shooting people. What am I doing?
I'm saying the things I have been trying to convince myself to believe for the longest time. And seeing Al... On the outside he is a gun wielding maniac who could shoot us all dead at any moment. But on the inside, he is broken. Broken, like I have been broken. I see the secret pain in his eyes.
"You have to forgive yourself. You have to realize that you have been hurt, and accept the strength to move on. Because to forgive is to set a prisoner free. Only to realize the prisoner is you."
He does not say anything, but ponders what I just said. I ponder what I just said. Forgive myself? But I... But I...
I look up to Al. I say, "You can forgive yourself. The first step is letting these people go. Give them a chance. Give yourself a chance."
He presses a hand to his face and rubs his eyes. When he brings his hand down, he points the gun to the back of the class. "You. Back row. Go... Now!"
The group of students in the back row stands up and breaks a small section of the barricade and leaves. I small sigh of relief goes through me. Half the class is safe.
"Al," I say. "Everyone just wants to go home. So let us go."
"No."
My stomach drops. "Why can't we go?"
"Because of them out there," he points at the windows. "I know the police are here that the SWAT is here and that everyone knows what's going on in here. If I let you go they will get me. The second I let you all go I'm over with."
"... I'll stay."
"What? No," Mrs. Reese says. "Tris..."
I ignore her and turn to face Al. "You and me. You let these people go and I will stay."
He thinks about it, then tells the others to leave. I make eye contact with Edward. I place my hand on my side so Al can't see. Edward looks down at my hand. I hold up four fingers and then I pull in two fingers so only my thumb, index finger, and pinky are out.
Four, I love you.
Edward nods his head, knowing the message I want him to send. The rest of the students leave the room and only our teacher lingers.
"Go," I say.
"Tris, I'm not leaving you."
"She said GO!" Al yells as he points the gun.
"Go," I say, but it comes out as a whisper. I plead with my eyes.
Mrs. Reese, reluctantly, leaves. It is only Al and I. Minutes pass by, and those minutes add up tentatively to an hour. Silence takes over the room the whole time. I begin to feel my stomach rumble, and it is then that I notice how hungry I am. And how tired I am.
I fight every internal emotion and keep my eyes wide and on alert. Another half hour passes before he speaks up. "Does it ever go away?"
"What go away?"
"A scar."
"What do you mean?" I ask.
He doesn't answer, just pulls back the hair on his forehead. Along his hairline lays a small scar. "I tried out for the football team this past summer. But as you can probably tell, it didn't go well. I've had this ever since. A constant reminder of one of my many failures."
I touch my hand to my chest, tracing my scar without even looking. For the past few weeks, I've been putting less effort into hiding and covering it up.
"They fade, but with time," I say, almost to myself. "But there's just too much that time cannot erase."
He mutters something, but if can't quite hear it.
"I've gotten used to it, though. Pain mends as you get used to it," I say. I look to him. "Someone once told me to never be ashamed of a scar."
"Why?"
"Because it shows you were stronger. Even though you got hurt, you still got up and kept going. And that's the best strength there is: getting up after you fall."
"But I have nothing to stand for."
"What about yourself?" My words are slow. Even though Al still has a gun, the adrenaline pumping through my veins has decreased. I'm still on alert, but my eyes feel heavy. I push away the exhaustion. Any second, something could change and everything could erupt.
I want so badly to be out of here. Part of me wishes I could have left with my classmates, but I immediately push that thought out of my mind. I can't think about that. All my mind should be focusing on is how to get out of this mess.
Desperately, I say, "My mother once told me that there is evil inside all of us, and the first step to loving someone is recognizing that evil in ourselves."
The words burn as I say them. The last time I heard them was back in New York. When Caleb said them.
I continue, "I know how hard it is. I know. It eats at you until there is nothing left, and even then it still eats away."
"Have you forgiven?"
I take a deep breath. "For a while, I never thought I could. But I think I'm at the point where I can forgive my brother and my father... And myself."
And when I say it, I mean it. I'm not just answering him to keep him calm or keep him from shooting the gun. I'm answering for myself.
"Can I be forgiven? Can I forgive others? Can I forgive myself?"
"Only if you let yourself."
Al goes silent again, and he closes his eyes. We sit in silence and I can hear his brain running. The decrease in adrenaline us causing my body to hurt, and I get a pounding headache. even though it hurts to think, I still dive deep into my mind.
I say a silent prayer.
Please get me out of this. Please... You've saved me before when I was nothing, when I had nothing...
It feels selfish, asking for so much from Him when I stopped believing in Him. But He had faith in me, He must have, even when I did not. Because I am still here. I am living, truly living. And maybe I've forgotten Him and all He's done...
This time I can't tell how much time goes by. The only thing that breaks me from my thought is the sound of small cries. When I open my own eyes, Al kneels on the ground.
And the gun is laid on the desk in front of me.
I get up out of my seat and walk over to Al. I sit down right in front of him and wait for him to look up. When he does, I say, "You are doing the right thing."
I get up and walk back to the desk to grab the gun. It's cold and heavy in my hands.
"I'll walk out first," I say.
He doesn't respond, so I walk carefully to the door. I turn one last time and all I see is a broken boy, consumed in failure. I squeeze through the hole in the barricade and turn the knob. I hear the clicks of the SWAT team outside the door.
I yell out, "Hold your fire. My name is Beatrice. Albert is letting me go. I have the gun. And I am walking out."
I slowly open the door and walk out. My hands are up, and it is when they are in the air that I realize they are shaking. One of the officers takes the gun from me and another escorts me through the hallways towards the front of the school.
It isn't till I see the doors to outside when I feel a million emotions run in and out of me. I feel like I am about to faint or get sick, but I don't care. I pick up my pace as I get closer and closer. When I get to the doors, I throw them open.
The first thing I notice is the flashing lights. But I focus on what's around me. There is a helicopter flying above the school, police cars and ambulances along the road and the barricades, and a huge crowd of people.
There is movement at the front of the crowd, and the officer holds two people behind the line.
Tori and Tobias.
I go into a full sprint to where they are. Tobias manages to break the barrier and he meets me a little over half way.
We collide into each other in a tight embrace. It is only now that I let the tears really fall. It doesn't take long before my whole body is engulfed in sobs. Tobias does not loosen his grip on me. He whispers things in my ear that I don't catch right away. All I can comprehend is, "I love you."
I feel a second pair of arms wrap around us. Tori. She pulls in close and she kisses my head, small tears falling on my hair.
It isn't until an officer comes to us that we break our embrace, but Tobias holds onto me like he never intends to let go.
It is now that I realize how completely exhausted I am, and I nearly fall as I walk to the EMT truck. Along the way, I see all my friends. They follow me as I walk, and as I look around, I see how big the crowd is. I was in there for hours, what are these people doing here?
I don't have much time to think because my mind fogs and my knees buckle under me. I feel myself fall when another set of arms come to help hold me up. Christina.
Tobias and Christina help hold me up as I walk to the truck. We are almost there when my whole body fails me and I crumble. I feel Tobias take one of his arms under my knees and the other holds my back. He carries me away, and I focus on the steady beat of his heart.
I feel my eyes get heavier and heavier until I can't keep them open. The last thing I see are my friends. All here, all with relieved looks.
Then all I see is black.
I have faced death enough times to know the pain that comes right when you are about to cross the line. Whether that pain is physical or buried deep down behind many layers, I know it when it's close. I've been tugged by death's cold grip to a point where I almost let go and get pulled into its darkness.
I have seen death rip away the most important person in my life. I have seen the devil himself, scar me and inflict the worst pain upon me. I have had a person grow inside me, and then bringing her into this world and experience the worst pain imaginable... Only to let her go. I have been a lab rat, tortured for the name of science until I lost who I was, fading into the background as if I were dead. I have seen death linger along my body as a car came crashing into me.
I have faced death enough times to know when it is near. And that is why I knew I'd survive this, and that I did survive it. Because I am stronger. And I am not going to let death pull me away from this life.
Because I have found a reason to stay.
End of Part II
Author's Note
Way back in 31: Chapter 30, this event was foreshadowed! A lot of people were like "Don't kill Tris!" Come on people, I am not that heartless. (Hint, hint Veronica Roth!)
This is the end of part two. I plan on having four parts, so you could say we are halfway there even though part four will most likely be shorter. I love to hear what you all think, so do not hesitate to say something. I love PMs and reviews, if anyone just needs to talk. Please review!
Be brave, everyone!
QUOTES
1). Does that make that day a good memory or a bad memory? / Both. Because it showed that even on the worst days there can be joy. –Castle, television show
2). You're only human. You don't have to have it together every minute of every day. Bride Wars, movie
There are four (book, movie, person, song) quotes in this chapter.
Chapter Summary
Tris sits in class, waiting for her tower to get crushed and to get her grade. Al's tower is crushed and it does not do well. Tris' tower gets crushed, and it does well so she gets a good grade. While sitting through all the towers to be crushed, Tris draws in her notebook.
She draws a picture of a person bearing a weight, and she explains that the weight represents the burden of a wrongdoing. The picture represents her struggle to forgive Caleb (and her father) for all the hurt they've caused her.
As the period comes to close, Al approaches Tris and she notices that he has a gun. In moments, the classroom turns into a hostage situation as Al fires once at the wall and a second time at the pile of his classmates' cell phones.
While Al keeps the class hostage, he and Tris have a conversation. Tris and Al discuss forgiveness and throughout this conversation, Tris realizes it is time to forgive Caleb for all the hurt he's caused her. And she realizes she needs to forgive herself.
After some time, Tris convinces Al to let the other classmates and their teacher go. Their teacher is hesitant to leave, but she does. There is a long period of silence before a small conversation. She continues to talk about forgiveness and change. Eventually, Al lets Tris go and he surrenders.
Tris is reunited with Tori and Tobias and all her friends. When she goes to get checked on at the EMT truck, she faints from exhaustion. In the last part, Tris talks about her times facing death and how she is stronger. And she has many reasons to live.
PART III SNEAK PEEKs
Caleb looks at his screen, and then looks at me. "I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For never being the reason for that smile. I'm sorry I was the reason for the frown, for the tears."
The shock leaves me paralyzed—I can't move. I can't defend myself. Suddenly, I am a little boy cowering in fear under my father.
"I found them. I found the letters my mother wrote me." I say.
The line blurs. In fact, I feel like there is no line at all. It feels more like a scale, balancing and shifting from one side to the other when different things are added to each end. Balance is ideal, but every second the weight shifts. No one is wholly one thing or the other.
"I'm ready. I'm not afraid—I love you."
