Tobias POV
"Hello, Tobias. Long time, no see."
He leans down, grabs my shirt, and yanks me to my feet. He shoves me against the wall, and I bang my head, which disorientates me for a moment. It take me a moment to adjust to my surroundings. It takes me a moment to adjust to the fact that my worst fear is standing right in front of me. My mouth is agape, but I finally find words. "Wha-what are you doing here?" I stutter.
He laughs, his cold, cruel laugh. "Well, Tobias, you see, your little friend, Eric, called me." I feel anger in the pit of my stomach. Of course Eric called dad. "And now, I'm here, and you're going to regret ever running away, boy." I can tell by the way he looks at me, he still detests me. And a father shouldn't feel that way. A father should be caring, and kind, and protective, and nagging you to do your homework. And I was deprived of that. But don't I deserve to be deprived?
I close my eyes for a moment. "I thought you'd be happy," I say, coldly. "You hated me."
"Correct. I did, and still do, hate you. But, the rumours? Those could have ruined my reputation."
Of course. The only thing Marcus Eaton cares about is his reputation.
"What did you expect me to do? Stay and let you kill me?" I say, anger coursing through me. Don't show your fear. "Surely that would've ruined your reputation more? I can almost see the headlines. Government member, Marcus Eaton, kills his own disappointing son." I mock him, and that angers him more. I have to keep my fear at bay.
"How dare you mock your father! How dare you treat your superiors that way!" I laugh, a harsh laugh.
"My superior? I don't know about you, but I don't count abusive people as superior."
"You're not so innocent though, are you? Trying to kill Miss Prior and her family?" He relishes in my discomfort.
"I-I didn't kill them though."
"We aren't so different, Tobias. Oh dear, I seem to have touched a nerve." My face feels hot. I refuse to be the same as him.
But what if he's right? What if we really are the same? What if I really am as bad as him?
My heart pounds. And then I see something that makes me freeze.
His hand.
Reaching for his belt.
And my heart is thumping so hard that I'm surprised he can't hear it.
And all the memories just flood back.
The pain. The anguish.
Day after day.
My house full of screaming parents.
Full of my sobs.
My blood.
My fear of the man who brandishes the belt.
I watch as he raises it.
And I cower.
And I feel repulsed by myself for doing so.
Fight, you stupid coward.
But I can't move.
I can't breathe.
I can't. I can't. I can't-
"NO!" Someone screams, and I blink, noticing that tears have filled my eyes. I turn my head and stare.
Tris.
"TRIS! NO!" I scream at her. She hurtles towards us, and I break myself out of my stupor, flinging myself at dad. I won't let him get Tris. I won't.
I punch him right on the jaw, and the impact stings my knuckle. He staggers backwards. Tris hurries to my side. "Please. Get back Tris. I don't want you to get hurt," I beg. But she acts like she didn't hear me. She's glaring daggers at dad.
"How dare you," she says, and she's trembling, but her voice is quite stable. "How dare you hurt him. How dare you come here."
"Hello, Tris," dad says pleasantly, as if he's discussing the weather. "How's Andrew?"
"Don't try to butter me up!" she spits, stepping forwards. "I know what you did!"
"Yes...I knew my son must have told you." He looks thoughtful for a moment. "I might just have to...deal...with that." I frown. Whatever his intentions are, they can't be good.
They never are.
He extracts something from his pocket. I see a flash of silver.
A knife.
He points it at Tris, who stares at him, utter horror and shock on her face. And there's a moment where we all just stand frozen. But then my instincts kick in.
And I feel bile rise in my throat, and my face is numb, and I'm hardly aware of stepping forwards. It's almost as if hatred and anger is surging me forwards.
And when I speak, my voice shakes from my anger. "You can break my soul. Take my life away. Beat me. Hurt me. Kill me. But you will not touch her." And I launch myself at him, catching him off guard, which knocks him to the ground, and I hit him, pouring every ounce of my hurt and anger into it. And we are in a full brawl, knocking each other down, punching and kicking. And angry tears just well in my eyes, and I'm barely aware that Tris has joined the fight, and I know she's perfectly capable of taking care of herself. I'm hardly aware of the sirens, and the yell of police officers coming over to us. I'm hardly aware of doctors leading Tris and I into the ambulance, and the Police taking Marcus away. Marcus, who is yelling things after me. Things which I've heard before, and still continue to haunt me.
Maybe I am like him. I hurt him. Even though he may deserve it, I still did it.
But it was for a reason. It was for Tris.
But I'm also afraid at what I might have done if he had killed Tris.
Would I have killed him?
Does that make me a bad person?
I've done a lot of bad things. A lot.
And I don't know what to do about them.
Can I be forgiven for all I've done to get here?
I don't know. I don't know.
Please.
A/N Thanks for reading! There's only a chapter and an epilogue left!
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The Dauntless Mystery- Divergent High
Fanfiction"And that's when it hits me. I have no where to go. No one to turn to. It's dark and I'm alone. And I nearly died." After a life threatening experience with his dad, 10 year old Tobias Eaton had no choice but to flee. He spent the morning on the st...
