─── ❝I was bound for destruction, now give me the gun.❞
or
─── in which the five-faction divergent leads the instructor through a path of destruction and love.
『tobias eaton x femaleoc』
Divergent...
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chapter three, would you choose to go insane yourself?
SLEEP is the scariest thing to exist. You can't control it. The dreams come and go. The nightmares stay and haunt. What do you do when you wake up and you can't move your body? What do you do when you are running in the same spot? What do you do when you know you're about to die and can't change it? It's a relief when it is just a dream. When you wake up, drenched in sweat, loud noises ringing and out of breath—it's not real, it's not real, it's not real...
But they slowly drive you insane.
Wave could never sleep well. Her dreams were little fragments, splattered around for her to find connection between them. There was some sort of uncertainty—it wasn't just a simple cat-and-mouse game, no, her dreams felt real. Like memories, she so deeply wanted to have.
She felt like she was getting played with. Different emotions, different faded moments clashing through her dreams—and then she wakes up. Hopeful. Weirdly joyful. Terrified. Terrified of the hope she could feel during them as if she had achieved something. As if she was important there. But she would wake up in the same small apartment of hers, alone. Always alone because it was best for her. It was best for everyone.
The similar longing, the déjà vu, would follow her throughout the days. It always felt like she belonged somewhere else – somewhere out there. But somewhere out there was nothing but a wasteland. But with the way things were run around here, she could swear that something was beyond the walls. People would say anything and do anything to stay in charge.
As the clock flashed four in the morning, she took off the thin blanket off her body and shook her head. The pain at the back of her neck made her hiss—she didn't exactly sleep in the most comfortable positions. Her forearms itched, as they often did after her dreams, but she lied to herself and put this sensation to blame to her everyday training.
Splashing some cold water over her face, she looked into the mirror, where a crack was going from left to right, making her look distorted. Her eyes always seemed too wide and her cheeks too puffed up, but she didn't care. She had no time to worry about her re-growing dark roots or the way that her scars and freckles were splattered around her face. It didn't matter. Her only role was to belong in the community and it seemed like she was failing that as well.
Getting a cold can of some sort of boosted, sparkly drink, she pushed it into her shirt, in her bra, hissing from the cold sensation against her chest. Grabbing the blanket off her bed, she headed to the window, opening it and crawling outside, holding on to the edge of the window. She ignored the fact that she was positioned at the fifteenth floor and she moved slowly, her palms pressed against the window to the ladder of the building that was just one meter away from her bedroom window.
