I am not Divergent. I know that now.

But you were.

Tris, you couldn't stop your Abnegation instinct. You couldn't let your murderous, betraying brother die to save the world. Instead, you went yourself and died. You thought you were being selfless. You saved your brother, but you ripped me apart.

At first I was devastated. Then I was angry at you. Now everything is empty.

I'm living alone, in a small house that's not in a compound. I lay in bed, not thinking, just staring.

A lady comes and brings me food, washes my clothes. Once in the middle of a storm, dangerous to go outside. She is so selfless, brave, and kind to me. I asked her why, and she told me honestly, "I knew you needed help." I don't understand, how people here fit into all five factions.

I will never belong here. Not in this strange world where I am genetically deficient.

You can't call me Four any more. I have twenty-nine fears now, one for each of the people I murdered. I can't go on like this.

I'm taking a knife, and running it over my skin, leaving jagged edges. I am not Dauntless. I don't have enough courage to kill myself, only draw blood in the cowardly way.

I want to be with you, Tris, and that is dead. I don't want to live here. I don't want to live anywhere.

I am walking into the laundry room and picking up the bottle of soap. I am unscrewing the cap, stretching my lips as wide as possible, and filling my mouth with the chemicals. As I am swallowing, I'm thinking of you, and how you smelled like fresh laundry with a hint of fruit.

I'm closing my eyes, glad to finally die, and I taste you again. In the detergent I swallowed, that was tangy and lemony, I taste you.

Suddenly I'm throwing it all up, in great globs of soap, and someone is there with me, it's the lady who washes my clothes. I'm being washed off, and the water mixes with the detergent, and everything is bubbles. I'm starting to laugh, because everything has bubbles everywhere and they're filling me up. I breathe bubbles and see bubbles and hear bubbles go pop! And it all seems hilarious, until it fades away and everything is dark.

I wake up in a hospital that Rina works at. Rina is the laundry woman, they tell me. She saved my life, they tell me. I am safe, they tell me. I am sick of their lies, and I am screaming at them.

So they tell me to ask them anything, and they will answer. So I ask if you are alive. And they tell me no, you're dead, and they're giving each other concerned looks, like I'm going crazy. I tell them that I know you're gone, Tris, so I will never be fine. And then I'm asking one last thing, to go shopping.

I am buying alcohol, even though they tell me I'm too young. Not where I'm from, I say. And I'm going into the cleaning aisle, and smelling all the detergents, until I find one that smells like you. Like Abnegation. Like home.

Then the doctors let me go to my house, and I find my old grey clothes, the ones I haven't worn since I was sixteen. I wash them with your detergent and put them on, not caring how tight they are. I'm drinking the bottle of wine, and leaving the house knowing exactly where I'm going. I am walking the four hours to Chicago.

I find everything the way we left it - even the trains are still running. I'm leaping on the train and off onto the building. No, Tris, I'm not scared of heights anymore. I'm walking to the edge of the building, and wondering if the net is still there. As I jump, the air billows around me, windows whistling past my face.

I am smelling the detergent, and I am thinking of you. I'm looking down and seeing that there is no more net, nothing to catch me, and I'm slamming into the pavement, crushing every bone in my body.

Goodbye, Tris. I love you.