Learning to Let Them In | Fourtris

Chapter 1

Hey guys! So this is my first fanfiction…please don't be too harsh! I accept constructive criticism. I have no problem with that! But please make it constructive and not just hate…otherwise you're not helping. -_- Anyways! I've had my account for a while now, but could never figure out what to write about! Until now, obviously. Even if I just get 5 reviews for the entire story I'll be the happiest girl on Earth! ;) I don't expect much. At. All. If you're actually reading all of my blabber, then CONGRATULATIONS! Here's a cookie! (::) If you guys want me to continue this then I will let you know how long I think it might be between updates when I can figure out a schedule! :) Well I don't have anything else to say…I think. So without further ado, here is the first chapter! *Loud cheering in background*

Disclaimer: I do not own Divergent. :'(

Chapter 1

Tris POV

16 years, 7 months, and 13 days. That's how long I've lived. 1 year, 5 months, and 17 days. That's how long I've wished to be dead. People say that the pain, guilt, and depression fades away with time. Not for me. Every day I wake up and feel the same amount of pain as the day I lost them.

For a little while people came to me giving me their sympathy and gift baskets. To help with the pain. I hate sympathy with a passion. It doesn't help anyone! All it does is make me feel worse. I shut the door on them. Rude, I know. But you can't blame me. Some people have even come up to me and said they understand my pain! When they did, I just gave them a death stare until they walked away. They don't understand what it's like to have just turned 15, and lose everyone you care about.

I'm not pretty. I have these ugly blue-gray eyes and a nose too big for my face. My blonde hair looks dead against the black clothes I wear. I look like a 12 year old even though I'm almost 17. I'm short and not wanted. Nobody likes me and quite frankly, I don't want them too. Really, all people see me as is a girl who is short, bad-ass, and broken. And that's what I am.

You're probably wondering who I am. I'm Beatrice Prior. Well…was Beatrice Prior. Beatrice was a brave, selfless, kind, fun, and loving girl. She would wear gray, pink, red, green, yellow, blue, purple, you name it! She wore just about every color in her life time. She died when she was 15. About a month later, Tris was born. Tris was dangerous and someone you did not want to mess with. If you did…well…let's just say that you might be in the hospital for a week. At the least. Tris wears black. That's all. She wears black because no matter how long it may be, she will always be mourning.

When I decided to switch to the lifestyle of Tris, I also made the decision to let the Beatrice in me die. Most of her did. Notice how I said most. No matter how hard I try, there is always gonna be a sliver of Beatrice in me. I hate her because she is a reminder of when times were perfect… enough money, enough food, friends…and-and-. I break down at this thought. I sob for only God knows how long. See? It's nearly been 2 years and I still haven't gotten over them. Not one bit. I'm completely broken inside.

I went to school for a little bit about 3 months after that day. I thought that if I went that maybe it could help get my mind off things. I couldn't be more wrong. I was bullied. Bad. They said I was weak, short, and stupid. I believed them. I still do actually. I got pushed, punched, kicked...and so many other things. This broke me even more. I started cutting. I felt like I had control of at least part of my pain. I have a fear of not being in control. That's why I did it. And I had a strange pleasure from cutting. I have countless scars. I stayed in school for that year. I've done online school now for a year now. I still cut though. It's that bad. I'm ashamed but I still continue.

I don't talk. I stopped that day. I refused to talk because I would have to relive that day over and over again to so many strangers. They have no right to know. So the easy decision was just not to talk. It was also the cowardly decision. But I don't care. The doctor's deemed me as depressed. Like I don't already know that. The funny thing is though, is that doctor's think depression is just some disease that can be cured with psychologists, therapists, pills, and mental institutions. But being depressed is something more. It takes a lot to become depressed. You have to be in a very horrible emotional trauma to become depressed. I think-wait no- I know that my situation counts as one. I shut people out. I don't want any friends. None of them are real. Since that day anyways.

You're probably wondering why that day was so horrible and when it was. That day was on my birthday. It was the best day of my life! It soon became my worst. That day took away my happiness. It took away my voice. It took away my dignity. It took away Beatrice. It took away the colors. It took away my selflessness. It took away my bravery.

It also took away my family.

Poor Tris. :( Please review! Tell me if I should continue this or not! Tell me what you liked and didn't liked…and some ideas! If I like an idea I will probably put it in unless it goes against the whole plot. This is gonna be a Fourtris story, but it'll take a while…Tris is broken and doesn't talk. They aren't gonna meet and be like "Hey! I like you! Let's date!"….I don't like those kind of stories. Chapters usually will be a little longer than this...just thought I'd let you know! So until next time, (if there is one) Bye!