Losing It All

Chapter Eight

Fifteen days, four hours, twelve minutes and thirty-six seconds.

 That's how long it's been since I last saw Eric. I walk through the hospital's halls and try not to think about it. There is a black hole in my chest where my heart used to be. I reach the lobby where a child is crying. My instincts tell me to hold her and say comforting things in her ear, but she is an Abnegation child and that would be inappropriate. So instead I kneel before her, wipe the tears off of her cheeks and murmur to her until she calms down and the doctor comes to see her. I stand back up and wish that I could cry also, but I still have a lot of work to do today. Again, I try not to think, but it is hard not to when surrounded by Erudite.

 The pain is not as sharp today, but it is more present than it ever has been. Each breath is like drowning in lukewarm water. I'd even gone so far as to ask Emily and Sam to look into it for me. All they could tell me was that he'd picked a government job and hadn't been seen much lately. They'd tried their best to cheer me up, but I think this is something I'll just have to slowly get over on my own. I hope I feel better soon though. I've been getting irritable and I'd hate to land myself in the Conflict Room. My shift ends and I catch a bus back to the Amity compound, trying to keep a smile on my face to avoid any prying questions. I feign fatigue and rest my head against window, letting the numb emptiness overtake me.

 The chatter stops as we approach the gate and one of the Dauntless guards steps onto the bus. I don't recognize him but he asks for me by name and hands me a small envelope with my name in a tiny scrawl across the white face. I don't recognize the writing but something about it makes my heart leap into my throat. The other Amity give me strange looks, so I purposefully scowl at the paper so that they think asking would hurt my feelings more than knowing what the issue is. It occurs to me that it is incredibly easy to manipulate people when you know the way that they think. I used to think like them, but lately I feel more and more distanced from the Amity lifestyle. I wonder what's happening to me? I don't think I know who I am anymore.

Back in my apartment, I tear open the envelope, read it, scrunch it up and throw it against the wall. Pick it up, smooth it out, hug it to my chest. Ball it up and toss it again. I open my sock drawer and run my fingers over the small square of glowing fabric. Should I go? I can't decide.

 The note read as follows:

Belle,

Meet me in the usual place at eleven.

We need to talk.

-E

I want to go. I don't want to go. I hate you. I love you. I need you. I want to see you.

I arrive at the gate shortly before eleven.

***

“You can't possibly be serious!” Emily is looking at me like I've lost my head.

 “Em's right, Belle,” Sam says. “It's probably not the best idea.”

 I shake my head, tears burning at the corners of my eyes. “I have to go. I have to give him a chance to explain.”

 “I think this is a bad idea, Belle. He doesn't exactly have a reputation for being a nice guy.” I don't need Emily to point that out, but I do need to see him. I need to know why he thought it was okay to tell me he loves me and then vanish from my life completely. And more than anything, I want to beat the crap out of him so that he can feel at least a little bit of the pain that's been plaguing me over the last two weeks.

 Sam sees my expression and sighs. “Let her go, Em.” She turns to me, “But if he pulls this again, we'll stop you with everything we've got, understood?”