A Dying Light

Three

He takes me to my dorm room, pretending to be a loving and caring father like he does in public. In reality, he's just an asshole who beats his kids. I wish I could run to Caleb now, his place being a haven. We find my dorm quickly and he punches me again. I groan in pain and he smiles savagely. "Why did you apply to the school?" He asks, his voice is husky and mad. "Because I wanted to study Literature," I look him dead in the eyes while saying my bold comment. He laughs, and I blush. He punches my nose, and I hear a little click. I have to make an excuse for this, which I am used to. I've done it on multiple occasions with Will and Christina. It's not that hard to lie effortlessly, anymore. He kicks my side, and I gasp for air. My lung doesn't want to take the oxygen in, however, and I pass out.

I hear a faint beeping, and see Christina towering over me. "Chris," I breathe, and she sighs in relief. She goes to get a nurse, and I see the Hope gang. I smile, and they all look at me, concerned. "What are doing back here?" I ask Chris and Will, and Will shakes his head. "Don't worry about us," Will says, forlorn, and I sigh. "Your lung collapsed," my jaw drops, and I look at the people around me, and blush. "What happened?" I shake my head. Think of something, I scold myself, quick! "I fell some stairs, I'm clumsy," Will and Christina believe me because I have always covered my Father's abuse with clumsiness. Four is not so convinced by my quick lie. I notice his hand, by his side, and he tucks his thumb into his palm and makes a fist. Everyone knows this is a hand signal for domestic abuse, and I shake my head. He knows what my Dad did, somehow, and I shake my head more. If Dad finds out that Four suspects it... I'd be killed. He'd get worse, I'd drop out, and then... the rest would be history.

I can't let Dad know.

Ever.

+++

The next day, I notice that there are no desks, so I look around confused. "Anyone know what's going on?" I ask, and they all shake their heads. "You're Tris Prior?" I nod and smile. Some reach their bags and pull out Splintered Bride, but I shake my head. "I'm here to learn, not sign books," and Four walks in, just as befuddled as us. He looks around the room, eyes not lingering anywhere. It is a practical, scientific gaze. "What's going on?" He asks, and we all look at each other. "I'll go get the principal," he says and heads off. Everyone starts talking, and I lean against the wall. I keep my cardigan over my wrists, as I cut myself last night. I was scared and carved pain upon myself. I lean against the wall, closing my eyes, and sighing. "Tris," I hear, and lookup. My eyes meet Eric's, and I scowl at him. "I'm sorry," he says, and I notice a pill in his hand. "Don't!" I scream at him, and he freezes up. "Everyone deserves to live." People look at me, confused, and Four walks back in. Eric tucks the pill back in his pocket, and we all greet the man in charge. He is tall, and lean, with deep blue eyes, and greying hair. His eyes investigated the room and landed on me. Eric's hand crawled up to my shoulder, and I step forward, removing it. The man only smiles at me. "Principal Eaton?" Four looks mad, and I wonder why. What would Marcus Eaton have done to make Four hate him? "What happened to my classroom?" He asked, his voice challenging the Principal, and I held my breath. If I dared to try that stunt with my father, he'd hurt me. Marcus' eyes stare at Four, and Four backs down. I find my shoes interesting, suddenly, and Marcus tells me that the Drama students will come through, and we have to write a script.

Tobias (TW: ABUSE)

At Break, I stand in my father's office, and he forces me onto my knees, and I keep my eyes trained at the floor, and he unbuckles his belt. I remove my shirt, and he hits me with a leather belt, and I groan in pain. He won't fire me, so this is my punishment when I break his rules for me. He hits me fifty times and dismisses me. I pull my shirt back over my head and stumble back to my office. I lay back in my chair, and close my eyes. "Four?" I open my eyes and check the time. Two minutes have passed. I look up and see Tris. Her bright eyes focused on me, and a faint frown on her lips... her lips... stop it, Four. You're a teacher, her teacher. It's illegal. "Tris," I nod, and she does the domestic violence hand signal. "Tris, are you...?" I ask her, and she blushes. She is, shit.
"I'm not," lie. I can tell. She doesn't give me any body language that suggests lying. But she'd have to hide the truth her whole life, so she knows how to act. "You're lying," I say, and she furrows her brow. She can act well, I've observed. She shakes her head. "What?" I scoff and repeat what I said last. She shakes her head. "I'm not," she states, her voice stern and demanding. "Tris, tell me the truth," and she shakes her head. She heads off.

Tris

I continue writing my song. "Oh, isn't it lovely?" I sing. "All alone. Heart made of glass, my mind of stone. Tear me to pieces, skin and bone. Hello, welcome Home?" I hear applause, and I see Four. He knows, my mind tells me, and I go back to my song. "That was amazing," he admires, and I blush. "Can I try something?" I hand him my pencil, and he writes down in neat cursive:

"Walkin' out of town
Lookin' for a better place (echo)
Something's on my mind (mind)
Always in my headspace"

I watch him, his deep blue eyes skimming the paper, and his eyelashes clinging together after he blinks. His eyes... stop, Tris. He's your teacher... and that's illegal. He looks up at me, and I smile at him. "It's perfect, thank you," I say, genuinely. He smiles. His bottom lip is full, with a spare upper lip. I mentally slap myself. Twice, Tris? "How do the verses go?" He asks me, and I sing his verse with the tune. He nods, and I smile. "What are you doing here anyway, Four?"  I ask him, and he frowns. He scratches the back of his neck and blushes. "I heard singing," he states. "I came to check out who the talented one is." I blush. "Where did you get inspiration from?" He asks me, and I press my lips in a line. My Dad is my inspiration, but I can't tell him that. He's already questioned me twice, and I've started again. "I don't know. Just did it," I shrug, my voice dry. He looks at me, suspecting, and I press my lips in a line again. He shakes his head. "Tris, if you're getting abused, it's okay. You can tell me anything," I nod, and look at his shoes. They are dress sneakers, probably dress code. His hand touches my shoulder, and I look back up at him. "Are you being abused, Tris?" He asks me, and I shake my head. Lies, lies, lies. He nods, and I smile sadly. He grabs my hand and squeezes it. He stands and leaves. I've convinced him.

I lay on my bed, on the phone. "I'm scared, Beatrice," Caleb confesses, and I nod. He can't see me. I roll my eyes. "I'm scared I'll be like Dad," my jaw drops, and I clear my throat.
"You're not gonna be like that monster," I tell him, and he tells me his fears with Lee and Susan. "Caleb," I scold him. "You will be a great dad, I know that." I smile and heard Caleb sigh. "I've got to do homework, bye," I say, and he farewells me. I get up, to start writing a sequel to The Splintered Bride since it left on a hanger.

I write until midnight, and Four bursts through my door. "Fuck!" I shout, and he jumps. I close my laptop quickly, so he doesn't see The Rived Groom, the Sequel to Splintered Bride. "You do realize that lights out was more than 2 hours ago, right?" He asks me, and I look at the time. I apologize to him, and he smiles. "You're writing?" He asks, and I nod. "Rived Groom, a sequel," he chuckles, and leaves, after saying Good Night.

Sorry for the last Chapter and not posting.

~•~
Bella