It is 7 by the time I get back. The sky is dark, and with each green house I pass I'm enveloped in a dull light through the plastic. I listen to my shoes kicking the dirt and gravel. My eyes trained to the ground, my hands sore at my sides. I look at them, they're bruised and scared. The scabs from falling have been ripped. Was this from my persistent tapping? Or was it from when my hand met Alex's cheek? I drop my hand and look up, seeing the dark sky and the silhouettes of trees. I pass the fields of flowers, and I skim my fingers along the petals as I pass them, my fingers brushing the soft silk of lavender.
I remember pricking my fingers too much from picking roses and cotton with my mother. How the rays of the afternoon summer sun made her hair look like a halo of pure gold. How her skin was perfectly sunkissed with natural freckles. How her eyes were soft and blue, her voice was always soft. She was from Abnegation, but she had enough respect for herself to become part of the 'equilibrium' of Amity life. She was truly a significant person. You could just look at her and want to be with her forever. If I had someone like that for me I would be overly possessive and protective of them, constantly being afraid of losing them. Maybe that's how my father felt. Maybe that's what drove him mad, he was only everything with her. I guess it's only right to live by the saying 'You don't know what you've got till it's gone,' but does that give people the excuse to stray down that he did? I shiver, remembering the nights I'd muffle my screams into my hand, because of him. Either he lost his mind when she died, or he was always like that, and she just changed him for the better. I'm too scared to ask which one it is.
Before I know it, I'm standing in front of the house I was born in. I listen as my shoes thump against the wooden stairs. My hand opens the door and I see my sister and father sitting across from eachother at the table. There is a plate of food set for me, I take my seat and try to eat as much as possible before the monster and I start arguing. Angel says nothing the entire time we eat. Somethings wrong, I know it is. The air is too heavy, and my fathers breathing is shallow. He keeps eyeing me down throughout the entirety of the meal. I'm tempted to eat in my room, but I'm terrified of what might happen to Angela. Maybe I'm waiting. Waiting and sitting on the edge of my seat for him to crack the ice, for him to 'Ask' about my results.
To my surprise, he doesn't ask. He gets up and walks to his study instead. Tonight, is the night I am supposed to think about my choices. To either relish in the last moments I have in my Faction home, or to choose to stay here and get a home of my own, to focus on great agricultural feats. To keep my voice soft spoken and to learn the fine trade of manipulation through kindness. Learn how to lie to keep the peace. If I fail initiation here by being too violent- which I am, Alex proves that -I'll become Factionless. I'd rather be violent than be drugged into false happiness.
I am shaken from my thoughts by the sound of my sister jumping onto the counter next to me. I smile at her, "Are you leaving Aisi?" I'm silent for a moment, she smiles at me, her gap in her front teeth showing. I sigh and continue to wash the dishes, keeping my eyes down, I know that if I look at her I'll cry. I can't leave her here can I? "Aisi?"
"I don't know Angel," I say quietly, it doesn't even sound like my voice.
"Oh," She kicks her feet, the heels of her boots slamming against the wood. Any other time I would be annoyed, but now I'm doubting that I'll ever see her again. "What do you want?" I ask her, still not looking at her. She hums, "I want you to run away," I drop the plate and stare at her. She's smiling at me, "I know," is all she says. It's enough to make my world come crashing down, I only pray now that she doesn't make it burn too. I imagine myself frantically packing bags of clothes and food, and grabbing her small hand in mine and running. "Aisi," I look at her, still shocked, "Get out of here, I've got friends," Is this even my sister? The girl who I spent all my life to keep innocent when it's all in vain?
She hops down from the counter and grabs a broom, cleaning up the shattered pieces of glass on the ground. "Get some rest Aislin," I flinch, now realising that my sister at the age of twelve has a better grip on life than what I do. With a heavy sigh my feet carry me down the hall towards my room. My father makes a noise, like clearing his throat as I pass his study. The door is cracked open, and there is a faint glow of white light coming from under the door. My breath catches, "Yes?" I ask, knowing he did it to get my attention. "Come here," His voice is not soft. This, is when I meet the monster. I clench my hands once, edging the door open slowly.
My father, sits leaned back with his feet atop his desk. A screen is behind him, its bright, but the room is dark. It takes only a moment for my eyes to adjust, he is surrounded by papers and books scattered around the windowless room. There is a desk, his chair, his computers- generosity of the Erudite -and the flat screen behind him, against the wall. My eyes find the floor, theres a fine path carved through the papers. Some of which are ripped, or slightly burnt. He sighs and removes his feet from the desk, leaning forward to grab something I didn't see before. A bottle, with a tan liquid substance in it, I know all too well that it's his 'secret helper' to get his work done. This is the part where I normally get scared. Where my heart starts pounding so hard I can hear it as it rips through my body. Where I find myself holding my breath, waiting, and watching for what he does next.
Yes, I know this routine too well. It starts by a simple question, "How are you, Aislin?" I hold the smirk from my face, and the sarcastic remark playing on my lips, "I'm doing fine," He pours a glass, not wasting his time downing it a second later. "That's good, that's good," He lets out an exasperated sigh. It's only in these times that I find myself being the quiet girl that Amity wants me to be. When I'm afraid. I hate it. He pours another glass, my jaw clenches. So he doesn't choke, I ask him after he swallows, "Don't you think you've had enough?" Taking notice in how empty the bottle is, about two more drinks left and he'll get mad. He'll throw the bottle, and it will shatter against the wall, creating a glass blizzard that makes me go deaf. Then he'll blame me. I try using a different approach, seeing as he ignored me. "Daddy? Don't you think you've had enough?"
"Now that's something I haven't heard in a while," I tense up, he smiles, "relax Aislin," Alarms go off in my head. Too many times has he told me that. I take a step towards him, aware of how alert his eyes are. "Take another step girl," He dares me, I freeze. He grins, "How'd the test go?"
"Fine,"
"You're staying here then?" He says that as if I've got no other choice. I glare at him, "No," here it comes. He pauses before the liquor spills into the small glass, "What?" His eyes meet mine. I refuse to back down this time. "No, I'm not staying in Amity, I'm leaving," He's out of his seat and it hits the floor before I can blink. Breathe. In and out. His eyes are dark and clouded with his drunken idealistic way of thinking. I want it to be over, I don't know how much more of this pressure I can take anymore. He walks around his desk, like a predator and I've been so foolish as to step onto his domain. He will rip me to shreds I know it.
His belt is off quicker than the sound fills my ears, my eyes widen. He raises it, his eyes on my face, as he swings it down I drop to my knees, letting it break against my wrists. "Watch the face! The ceremony!" I scream, it hurts, but not as much as the first time he's done it. He doesn't relent. "Get on your feet girl," when I don't move he grunts, his hand closing around my wrist and dragging me to my feet. I'm tossed towards his desk, I stumble and catch myself. He rips off my jacket, I feel the tears brimming my eyes, the pain is there even before the leather cuts into my skin. My wrists are red, they sting. I grit my teeth as he rips off the back of Samantha's dress, I can't ever repay her.
At first I don't register it. But I hear it. The sound of leather slashing against bare skin. I dig my nails into the desk, if I make noise it will get worse. It's relentless, I lost count after 18 or 22. I now flinch with every blow, I can't help but cry out when the metal hits in between my shoulderblades.
He stops.
The air is filled with panting, and the heaviness of drunken rage. I know he closed the door a while back, I also know he sound proofed this room. I also know what that cold click is. It's the knife he uses to carve into wood to mark it. He always keeps it sharp. I don't want to turn around, but, I do it anyway. His eyes look black, and he has dropped the belt. He now holds the cold metal in his right hand, he's in my face before I know it. His left hand is around my neck and my back slams against the wood making me cry out again. My ears are ringing with all of the pain I'm in as he carves down my arm. I scream as he holds me down. The tears are hot on my face and my breathing quickens.
I don't know how everything played out the way it did. I'm glad things did though. Ryan, now lies on the ground with a bleeding, broken hand, and his leg messed up in a way that could be described as ragdoll. I don't feel any satisfaction, gladly, I remember tieing the door shut to the wall and nailing it in place. I also remember his muffled yells of fury. Ryan would be factionless if I didn't keep a secret.
IMPORTANT
God I am so sorry for not updating, but a lot has been going on, because... I'm moving to Texas! Yay! Sort of, stress is high and my boyfriend and I are having some trouble. But, do not mistake! I will do my best to update these stories. 'Of Course', 'Lights' and another story called 'Back To The Start' are being edited and updated. So please don't go away!