A/N: Hello again! Thank you for your reviews and votes on my poll (which is still open by the way). Last chapter brought up a few questions, so hopefully I can answer them for you in the next few chapters. If your question is not answered, feel free to PM me or send me an ask on Tumblr. This story has gotten rather dark and brutal, but fear not dear readers for the end is in sight!
But I'm only human
And I bleed when I fall down
I'm only human
And I crash and I break down
Your words in my head, knives in my heart
You build me up and then I fall apart
'Cause I'm only human
Human-Christina Perri
I've never felt this way before: lost , helpless, and alone. Every time I had to face an obstacle in the past, I was strong enough to overcome it, but now I was too weak. My situation was incredibly bleak. I hadn't moved since Eric left the room, staying curled up on the mattress, staring at the wall. The cold crept up on me, its icy fingers skimming the exposed skin on my back. I took a deep breath and stretched, my aching muscles screaming in protest as I moved toward the edge of the bunk. Walking toward the dress that Eric had unceremoniously dumped in the middle of the room during his assault, I nearly lost my balance on my shaking feet and sore legs. The dress looked like an ominous, inky black pool in the middle of the room. When I slipped it over my bare shoulders, I could smell him: a mixture of spicy cologne, sweat, and scotch. My stomach lurched at the memory and I fought the rising bile at the back of my throat. I was right to fear intimacy; all it brought was hurt and confusion. If I had it my way, I would never have sex again. Ever.
One thing was certain. This was no longer a test of physical strength, but a battle of wits and you cannot trust anyone but yourself. If I somehow manage to escape this prison, where would I go? Caleb is the first name that comes to mind—He's family after all, even if he chose his faction over blood. If I were to find him, let him know I'm alive, would he help me or expose me to Jeanine? It wasn't a risk I was willing to take. Amity would be the next ideal option but it will be crawling with Eric's lackeys, since I fed him that information. Candor headquarters was the last place I saw Tobias but I doubt he'd still be there after the attack. I was running out of options and it didn't help knowing half of Candor and Dauntless are simulation ready, and a good amount of the Abnegation were slaughtered. My final option would be to find Evelyn and the factionless in hope that they will help me. Tobias relationship with his mother is strained, and she isn't particularly fond of me, but it's my only choice. A part of me hopes desperately that he's searching for me; that somehow he knows I'm still alive.
I see a flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye and press myself up against the wall before I noticed the camera Peter had pointed out to me the night before. It was following my movements. I'm filled with rage at the thought of Peter watching the whole thing happen from the control room and doing nothing. I glare at the camera, refusing to break eye contact with its circular lens. I imagine the hate radiating from my body, entering the lens, traveling through the circuits into the control room computers, and somehow electrocuting Peter. Why would Peter chose to work in the control room when he could be Jeanine's lapdog and be free to roam the city, kicking puppies, stealing candy from infants, or doing whatever it is that sadistic bastards like him do in their spare time.
I glared at the camera until the door opened and Peter sauntered in flanked by a guard I haven't seen before. If I wasn't feeling undying hate for Peter right now, I might have been intimidated by the size of the guard behind him. A thousand conflicting emotions bubbled inside of me when our eyes met, but one emotion stood prominent from the rest: undeniable rage. I'm beside myself, contemplating what I want to do more: launch myself at Peter's throat to breaking down in sobs to making some kind of joke—because that's all I am to him. Some sick joke—a toy that he can play with until it's broken. He mumbled something to the guard and he left, leaving me alone with Peter. Peter opened his mouth, about to say something but I cut him off.
"It didn't work," I spat. "Your stupid plan didn't work! But you knew it wouldn't, right? That was the plan all along." I wanted to say something sharp as a knife, attack him verbally because my weak body could barely support itself.
Peter stared at the floor, silently. He looked tired, not in the typical lack of sleep kind of way, but tired as in weary with life. Exhausted from each mile stone, each turn of event, or twist of fate that shaped his life. That was probably the only thing we have in common, a lackluster outlook on life.
"Say something!" I screamed. I was beyond angry and frustrated with him right now, I was furious. I had actually trusted Peter Hayes to get me out this hell, and I got what I deserved. When will I learn?
"I'm sorry, he hurt you Tris." Peter said, lifting his gaze from the ground near my feet to my eyes. No, Not my eyes, but my forehead, my reddened cheeks, my chapped lips, everywhere but my eyes. This whole situation was uncomfortable. I was preparing myself for a snarky comment, but was met with an apology. Why was he still trying to act like gave a shit about what happened to me? I would feel better if he cut the bullshit and returned to his regular, mean self.
"You're sorry? Is that all?" My throat was dry and the words I forced from my mouth sounded weak and raspy. "What? You have no snide comments for me? No 'you're an idiot for trusting me in the first place' or 'you got what you deserved?' Go ahead, say it! Game's over. Everything is out in the open now, so feel free to go full Candor on me. Call me a Stiff while you're at it too. Haven't heard you say that in a while." Why were my accusations making me feel worse? I clenched my fists to keep them from shaking, my eyes burned slightly with tears. No, I will not cry in front of Peter Hayes. I'm not that weak.
"Joke's over! You win! You got me good. I actually trusted you." I let out a strangled laugh and furiously wiped away the angry tears that blurred my vision with the back of my hand. "I actually thought you changed. That maybe, I had misjudged you before, and deep, deep down you were good. You deserve a fucking trophy because you really made me believe you had a heart."
"Tris- there was nothing I could do. Believe me, Zeke and I tried to get Eric out of there. He's pissed as hell too." I was disgusted with him. The mentioning of Zeke's name brought back memories of Tobias. Those once, happy memories, stung.
"Zeke? You honestly think I believe Zeke was in on this? Zeke probably isn't here. You just used his name to make me trust you. Cut the bullshit!" My arms trembled as I clenched my hands into fists, anger and adrenaline pumped through my veins, making me forget my weakness and pain. I was on the verge of hysteria. No—I'm well passed that and I couldn't take it any longer. I lunged at him and punched him square in the stomach before bringing my knee up to collide with his face. I wasn't as strong as I was during initiation, but somehow I was winning this fight. Then it dawned on me; he wasn't fighting back. He was letting me beat the shit out of him. This was just like our fight when we were initiates, except our roles were reversed.
"Fight back you coward! It's not like you've never hurt me before!" I curled my fingers slightly forward and slapped him, digging my nails into his cheek. He didn't even bother protecting his face. He finally met my gaze, his eyes an unreadable mixture of pain and confusion. I lunged at him again with all the force my body could muster, succeeding in toppling him over onto his back. I straddled him, my hands wrapped around his neck, but I couldn't bring myself to squeeze. I was trembling furiously.
"Tris, listen to me. I want to help you. You just need to trust me." He brought his hand up to my shoulder and gently brushed it. I flinched at the contact and smacked his hand away. He meant to be gentle, but when his fingers brushed my skin, I felt a shock of electricity.
"Touch me again and I'll kill you. You're no better than he is." My voice broke. "You let him hurt me again." A small drop of water fell onto Peter's bloody cheek. I brought my hand up to my own cheek and realized I was still crying. My tears evolved from angry to broken.
"It's going to be okay." I felt his hand at the small of my back and I chocked back a sob. Despite the pain and hatred I felt, I didn't push him away this time. Emotion was trying to burst past the mental block I built and attacking Peter wasn't helping. I thought I had already cried out every tear I had, but apparently I hadn't. It was like there was an animal inside of me—a beast that snarls, and growls, and strains toward freedom, toward Tobias, and above all, toward life. And as hard as I've tried, I cannot kill it (See A/N). I won't kill it— it is the reminder of the strong, determined, girl I once was. Before Jeanine, Eric, and Peter stripped me of everything I held loved. My parents, Caleb, Tobias, Christina, my strength and determination. The last thing I held on to was my sanity, but I'm at risk of losing that too.
"Eric is looking for you. He wanted me to tell you—" the large dauntless guard I saw earlier stopped mid-sentence, halfway through the door. His eyes widened as he saw Peter's bloody cheek and my hands wrapped around Peter's throat "Woah. What the hell is going on?" I snapped back to reality as, the man wrapped an arm around my waist and lifted me away from Peter as if I weighed nothing. I clawed at the guard's rough grip on my waist, but failed to make a single scratch on his gloved hands. "I leave you alone with her for a second and she tries to kill you."
"It's okay, Ezra. I had it under control!" Why isn't he turning into the same cruel boy who tortured me as an initiate? Who humiliated me, beat me, and tried to throw me in to the chasm? I would feel a hell of a lot better attacking that Peter than the Peter who stood in front of me now. He was the one who looked wounded now—As if he had been raped by a sadistic bastard and told that everyone you loved thinks you're dead. Who had every last hope of escape crushed in the past few hours.
"I hate you! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!" I screeched and lashed out, the beast in me abandoning her tears and returning to anger, fighting for her life. I managed to land a kick in Ezra's stomach, but his grip on me only tightened. I struggled to breathe in his crushing hold.
"Really? It didn't seem like you had any control." Out of the corner of my eye I could see Ezra reach for the gun stashed in the holster attached to his hip. If he shoots me, all of this will be over. One squeeze of a trigger and several seconds of pain and I would be free from this hell I'm in. Peter was on his feet now.
"I'm fine. Leave her. Ezra." Peter said forcefully before bringing his hand to his injured cheek where my nails had left four long scratches. Ezra lowered me to the floor but kept a firm grasp on my waist to keep me from darting towards the door.
"NO! Shoot me, please! I can't do this anymore!" I saw his hand waver and then rest on the gun, as if contemplating whether or not to head my request.
"She's passed her limit. She needs to rest. Eric went too far." Peter said. I felt a pinch in my neck and it felt like all of the energy I had moments ago disappeared in to oblivion. I fell forward and Peter caught me before I hit the ground. Every second was more exhausting than the last and I could hardly feel Peter's arms around my limp form as he carried me back to the bunk.
"I gave her a weak dose. She'll be up in a couple hours." Ezra's voice sounded muffled and my vision was fading while I urged my eyelids to stay open. I tried to fight whatever Ezra injected in me, but it was an uphill battle and I wanted nothing more than to sleep. The door squeaked shut and I relaxed slightly. I was once again alone in the empty dormitory.
A/N:
I took a quote from insurgent that I thought suited this chapter:
"Because inside me is a beat that snarls, and growls, and strains toward freedom, toward Tobias, and, above all, toward life. And as hard as I try, I cannot kill it" (Roth 341). I wish I could take credit for that beautiful comparison, but they are not my words. Tris is so sassy when she's at the Erudite compound so I wanted to reread that part for inspiration. It's the closest original plot line to mine. Let me know what you think! If you want updates on my writing, or want your questions answered, check out my Tumblr .com
Love, Love, you all!
Belle