Haunt

Ch. 10- Don't Give Up

Haunted- Beyonce (Inspiration for this chapter)

Nobody questioned me when I entered the house late that evening. Dad sat at the kitchen table, looking over some papers that seemed to have become very interesting just as I walked in. Mom stayed silent on the couch, sowing a pair of pants back together. Neither of them acknowledged my presence. But I could tell by the how the air became thick that we all knew I was back.

Kayla's door was closed when I walked up the stairs. Obviously trying to shut me out.

I didn't care. I didn't care about any of it.

What I had said.

What I had done.

None of it mattered to me. They could all sit in their silent anger and ponder over what had come over me. They could assume it's my age or the new influences around me. They could say that I needed space. Those things would make them feel better. Because lying to ones self is always better than telling the truth.

The truth of what and who I am.

The truth that I didn't belong here.

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I think I may have dozed off a couple of times during the night but I always found myself waking back up again with a shiver of anxiety passing through my body. Each time I would look at the clock, only a few minutes had passed. Five AM was taking it's grand time of getting here.

In the moments that I couldn't sleep, I thought of Dauntless and that only lead to thoughts of Eric.

What would he have me do? How would we hide from the others? Where would we go?

By the time it was a quarter past four, I got up. None of my Amity clothes seemed remotely appropriate for training. My closet mainly possessed dresses and skirts, nothing a normal Dauntless member would wear.

What could I say? I liked those types of things regardless of how I felt about being Amity.

There's two sides to every girl...

After rummaging through piles and piles of clothes, I settled on a pair of red shorts I had from when I was a younger girl. They were a bit tight now and had defiantly become shorter. But what else was I to do? If I came prancing up in a dress, Eric would be sure to pass me off as a silly Amity girl.

I refuse to have that.

So red shorts it was. I slipped on the black jacket. A piece of clothing that had become a permanent part of my body these past couple of weeks. I walked out the front door and headed for the other side of the pasture.

The humidity creeps up on the back of my neck as I make the long walk over. The sun isn't even up yet and already it's stifling. Soon, though, the tree line is in front of me and once I'm behind the trees, it becomes remarkably cooler.

I count the steps to the little cabins far back in the woods. One hundred and one to be exact. That's including the steps up the front porch.

I stand at the door, awkwardly, deciding on whether to knock or ring the door bell.

My fingers ball together and I tape on the hard wood.

Moments pass.

For a second, I think maybe he didn't hear my low knock or that he's just ignoring me. Which makes me glare at the door, unintentionally.

But soon, the door swings open and out steps a broad shouldered Eric, looking rather amused for such an early hour of the morning.

"Bright and early." He says, Eric's eyes lingering on my red shorts for a second too long. I immediately go red in the face, regretting the outfit decision.