~~Darkness. I am surrounded by darkness. My lips are slightly parted and my fingers tremble by my sides. I hear nothing but the sound of my panting and my vision is black. The material of the duvet strokes my fingers. The smell of sweat empowers me, making me cower under my covers for protection.
I gulp back the lump forming in my throat. The lump of regret. Regretting the faction I chose. Regretting being the cause of Will’s injuries. Regretting the tears that were a constant stream from my eyes every night. Regretting the feelings I have for Tris. Regretting every decision I have made.
I long for my hands to tangle in Tris’ hair. I dream that our legs entwine underneath the blanket of stars. The memory of her realising how much I like her replays in my head. The shock that had clouded her eyes left me biting my lip and looking away.
Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I press my feet firmly on the ground and push myself so I’m standing. I take a deep breath and puff my chest out, straightening my back and putting on my most menacing expression. I imagine in my mind that my hands tighten around Peter’s throat, squeezing as hard as I can, with the aid of an adrenalin rush. I imagine feeling the throb of his neck slow down. I imagine seeing the life draining away from his eyes.
My abnegation side penetrates into my mind, forcing me to push away the evil thoughts. Dauntless thoughts, I think. Sometimes I wish I had chosen abnegation instead. Maybe I was destined for a peaceful life with Tris. But no. Tris preferred him. Four. His powerful arms that firmly lay on Tris’ dainty shoulders. The thought made me sick to the core.
I silently creep across the room, holding my breath each time I pass one of the initiates’ beds. When I reach the door, I poke my head out and look left and right. Clear. Gingerly shutting the door, I steadily walk along the corridor. My legs direct my body, and I let myself do as my legs tell me to do. I walk faster. My heart rate quickens. I blink less. I bite the inside of my cheeks more. I’ve always been afraid, but I’m not anymore. I am not afraid.
I stop beside the chasm, and am stood right in front of Eric. I tell myself that I am strong. I am not weak.
“Albert,” he announces.
“Eric,” I reply, keeping my voice steady.
“A little birdy told me,” he starts. “That, well. You’re not who you say you are.”
I inhale through my nose and exhale through my mouth. Stay strong, I tell myself. “What do you mean?”
Eric chuckles quietly and cocks his head. “You know what I mean.”
“What are you going to do about it?” I challenge, lifting my chin slightly and looking straight into his eyes. His smile morphs into a frown.
“Get. Him.” Eric’s eyes are full of vengeance and his fingers curl tightly into a fist. His nostrils flare and he purses his lips.
I feel a hand grab my arm, and another grab my leg. At first I struggle, but then I stop. I am not the coward. He is. I feel myself lifted up, over the shiny railings. I feel myself falling. The fall is exhilarating. The force of my body against it makes me lightheaded, but I don’t care. I feel my head smack onto something. Black smudges edge their way into my vision. I know what’s coming. I am not afraid. Memories flicker through my mind, almost like a movie trailer. One of the most significant is when I chose my faction. When my blood dripped onto the coals. I feel myself drifting away. I know what’s about to happen, and I don’t regret it.
I am Divergent and I will not be controlled.