Digging Holes - A Divergent Fanfiction

Fight the Bad Dreams Off if They Come to Get You

“Help me, Emra,” my mother says. “Help me hide it.”

I shake my head, unable to speak.

“I can’t do this alone. Help me.”

            I shake my head again.

She hits the gun across my cheek. I put my hand to it and feel a trickle of warm blood.

“No,” I whisper.

Her eyes narrow. “What did you say?”

“I said, no!” I repeat.

Then I run. I run out the door and down the street. It’s dark and terrifying. She is following me. I don’t know what to do.

            I wake up sweating and breathing heavily. I look at my watch; it says that it is twenty seven minutes past five.

I take a few minutes to calm myself down. Every night since it happened, I dream a variation of the same chain of events. Sometimes I dream what actually happened, but usually, like this one, it is twisted by my terrified mind. My mother had been kinder than that. She had been scared, and she only tried to drag me into it because of her fear. She would never have hit me.

            After I have convinced myself that I am safe, I get up. I can never get to sleep again after my nightmares. Generally I keep a flashlight and book under my pillow to keep myself occupied for a few hours, but we are staying in dorms for the initiation so I have neither. I consider going through the Erudite transfer’s things to see if he smuggled a book with him, but decide against it.

            I go into the bathroom and splash cold water onto my face. I look in the mirror. Do I look Candor? My hair is black and my skin is white, but going with the Candor colour scheme isn’t really enough to prove I belong here. I look more tired than truthful; I wish there was a faction for that.

            I go back to my bed. We are all in bunk beds; Frank is in the bunk above me. He has stayed over at my house before, and he knows that I get nightmares. He asked to go on top so I wouldn’t wake him up. I’m glad that I don’t live among the Dauntless; they wouldn’t be as nice about it as he is.

            I lie in bed with my eyes open, thinking of what to lie about during the initiation. Most people have forgotten about the “thing”; I don’t really want to draw attention to it again. I can’t think of anything else as good as that to hide my Divergence. If I do think of something else, I’ll do that instead.

            I consider saying I’m a girl. That could almost work, if the people here didn’t know me. I could probably pass as a girl except that everyone here know I am a boy thanks to the ridiculous communal showers at school.

            I guess I’ll see what other people say. Maybe I can copy someone else.

            “You alright?” Frank’s head hangs down from his bunk. He does not wake up as early as me, but he is a pretty early riser.

            I assess the situation and nod. I am at the moment.

            “How bad this time?” He doesn’t know the nature of the dreams; only my mother does.

            “I’ve had worse,” I reply.

            “Ready for the first day of initiation?” he asks.

            “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

            Which is, of course, not ready at all.