Resurgent: A Divergent Fanfiction

Chapter 43

Part II

"If it was mean to be, you'll find each other again..." ~Suzanne Young

2 weeks later

Tris POV

I wake up everyday. feeling refreshed, yet empty. Like half of my brain is missing.

Silly Tris, I'd be dead if half of my brain is missing.

I work on tattoos in Dauntless everyday. Its quite a normal, antisocial life. Eat. Sleep. Tattoo. Repeat.

Simple and peaceful. Apparently there was a war maybe... I dunno 2-3 years ago? That's in the past too.

Apparently there are still some people who aren't purified. They're sick, and remember all the gory memories of the war. Yes this is Dauntless and everything we know how to fight and win and shoot a gun, but hardly any of us have experienced stuff like war. I think... Something deep down inside just digs so so hard.

Why can't I just remember. Were my memories really that bad? I want to know. I've asked so many people, but they seem to be on the same page as me. Except one... Our leader, Zeke says it was for the better. That I forgot.

Flashback

I was working in my tattoo store when this guy walks in

"Hey, would you like a tattoo?" I ask.

"Hey Tris." the guy hugs me...

"Uhh how do you know my name?" I ask cautiously. I mean our faction is odd. I should be a bit cautionary of stranger danger despite the fact that like everyone respects me. I can surprising fire a very good shot with both knife and gun.

"Oh shit. Did you forget too." His eyes widen

"What?"

"Nevermind. It was probably for the better. You knew so much that you didn't deserve to know."

"Like what?" I ask. This guy has me hooked.

"Do you know your Divergent?" He asks hopefully.

The term digs deep in my brain. I know it describes me perfectly. It physically clicks. Not mentally. But I can't give a definition.

"I sorta know it but sorta don't. What's your name?" I ask politely.

He facepalms, "God my brother is hopeless. You're hopeless." He sighs sadly and lifts his head, "I'm Zeke. One of the leaders."

He stands up to leave. "The memory loss is Divergent covered. But I think you have hope Tris. You're the one with Six fears after all."He then leaves the tattoo parlor and my head spinning with the utmost confusion.

End Flashback

I thought about what he said every night and day since.

Six fears

Divergent

Knowing my name on the spot.

All those hints just lead me to summarize this.

Either I was very well known or famous for the freakin leader to know me... Or I was simply very good friends with this guy for him to hug me. Maybe both.

Why do I acknowledge this. Why am I now aware that I am brainwashed. It just made things worse.

I groan in miserable anger and frustration.

Why doesn't anyone else worry that they had a past.

Why doesn't it bother them that they are happy not knowing anything now

What bothers me most is I can't freakin remember who I had freakin sex with and however long ago it was cause I'm now freakin pregnant with a freakin baby that I have no idea who the father is and no idea how old it is and no idea why I made this choice whatever long ago.

Yea get the point now? I also have this weird ring on my left finger. Its very typical. Has a few diamonds on it, with a silver band. But theres this odd engraving saying:

4+6

Yea that =10

I have that tattoo on my wrist too! Like what is this. Was 10 my lucky number or something

Why the hell is that engraved on a perfectly good ring. Theres gotta be more to it.

The ring is on my left hand ring finger. I was engaged? I was in love? With who? Zeke's brother? What

I pull at my longish hair that's grown out down to my back. Why is this life. Is being Divergent bad?

I need to release my frustration. I need answers. But Zeke won't give me anymore.

I get up from my seat in the tattoo parlor. There aren't any customers anyways.

I head over to the training room. Throwing knives and shooting makes me feel better. I have way to much time in my hands and I have no idea how to spend it now other than hopelessly thinking about stupid pasts.

I head over to the training room and whip open the door. Nobody's there. I walk over to the table and pick up a bag of knives. Then I head over to the target.

I throw knives at the target with all my strength. The knives sink deep into the target, with fairly perfect aim. It hits maybe a couple centimeters off of the dead center, but I am not in the mood to focus and strive for perfection. I am just merely releasing anger.

I throw faster and faster; harder and harder; closer and closer. Thuds follow thuds almost right away. When all my knives are used up I walk away and get a gun

I shoot simultaneously, barely budging from the backfire. Beads of sweat run down my fact but I ignore it and continue. My ammunition finally runs out and I sigh.

Sudden clapping arises from behind and I whip my head around. A guy stands there, smirking and impressed. He's tall, and handsome. I haven't seen him before. He has bronze skin and curly dark hair.

"Nice shooting." He says

"Thanks" I murmur, wondering if he is brainwashed and happy.

"You look like you were trying to release anger..." He says.

"I was." I murmur.

"I do it too sometimes. When I don't get why I can't remember anything." his words catch my attention.

He gets it too.

"I like your tattoo." He points to my raven tattoo.

Oh course. I have no shit to explain why I got it.

"Sorry I don't know why I even got it in the first place." I say pathetically.

"I understand. I have one too." He points to his ear. There is a little snake curled above it. Looks pretty cool and suits him. Unlike me: A pregnant lady with odd raven tattoos and has a good shot.

He smirks, "I'm Uriah. And you are..."

"Tris." I say quietly. "I uhh really should get going you know..."

He nods, and I walk out of the room, my head spinning with confusion and mental pain.