The Other Side of the War (Tobias Eaton X OC)

Chapter 6

TW: Descriptions of Self-harm, please skip this chapter if you are easily triggered!

STORM JOLTED AWAKE WITH A LOUD GASP. She frantically clawed at her neck like somebody was strangling her. It took her a moment to realize that nobody was there, and her only attacker was herself. Sweat slowly poured down her forehead. The oxygen in her lungs felt like fire, the pain ravaging through her entire body. Storm buried her face in her hands while biting back a sob.

Never in her entire life had Storm felt so weak. She was slowly reverting back into that broken 15-year-old girl.

Tying her hair back in a tight ponytail, she forced herself to stand. No one else in the dormitory was awake, at least not that she saw.

Before Storm had any more time to think she was off, her legs swiftly carrying her away from her cold bed. She headed straight for the chasm, not to jump, just to ponder it.

The roaring river was the only thing that seemed to silence Storm's demons. She sat down near the edge and let her legs dangle. The danger of falling kept her sense on high alert.

She wasn't stupid, and she didn't want to die.All she wanted was to feel something, anything. Even if that something was pain.

Storm slowly reached into her pocket while cursing herself. A couple of nights ago at dinner, she stole one of the knives and began to sharpen it. Originally she planned to use it in defense, just in case an initiate tried to attack her while she slept.

But now.....

The sharpness of the blade enticed her. It was death in pretty packaging, and even she was not immune to its hypnotic methods.

Storm was familiar with this addiction, ever since the age of 12. She was foolish to think she overcame it. It's always waiting for her to slip up in a dark corner of her mind.

And when it spotted one singular moment of weakness, it broke free from its cage and wreaked hell on her body. The sliding of the blade against her arm felt natural. With each mark, Storm felt her soul slip further away.

Sometimes everything was just too much for the girl's crushed heart. It happened like that every time. It was a never-ending cycle that only brought pain and despair. Storm would remain strong, too strong, for so long. Then all it took was one incident for everything to go to shit.

The blood violently dripped down her shaking arm. For Storm, this was all just a wake-up call. She knew her fate in dauntless, it was not a happy one.

There's nothing like a little pain to remind you you're alive.

"Jesus Storm," a man's voiced whisper-yelled from behind her.

A disoriented Storm looked behind her in fright. Four came rushing towards her as he took off the jacket wrapped around his body.

"H-how?" Her voice was so fragile it sounded like a little girl's. If she had the energy to stand up and run away, she would. "You're such a stalker."

"I work in the fucking control room at night. My shift just ended," his angry voice made Storm flinch. She tried to resist his help, but her body felt too weak to even move. He tightly tied his jacket around the girl's arm before kicking the knife off the chasm. "We need to get you to the infirmary."

"NO!" Her strength returned for a fleeting moment. Storm's words came out jumbled and confusing "you don't understand. They will--you can't. My m-mission!"

Four tried his best to understand her, but Storm was far too delirious. He lifted up his jacket to assess her injuries, his heart panging as he did so. Not fatal. Relief flooded the trainer's body. Only one of the cuts was barely deep enough to cause concern. There was juts an abundance of open wounds. "You still need some supplies to help you heal."