Divergent: If War Hadn't Happened: BOOK ONE

-22-

We turn a corner and I say, "I'll be right back."

"Tris." he says, and I turn around and whisper, "please trust me, okay?"

"Okay." he says soft and quietly. I nod my head at him. 

He stands back at the brick wall and when I turn around to look at him before I leave, he just looks at me. There's a part of me that says if you turn back everything will be okay and there's nothing to worry about anymore. But, I have to go look for my friends. I know they would've done the same for me in a split of a second. When I look at him, I just want to run back into his arms but instead I whisper, "I'll be right back."

I don't look back to hear or see his response and there's a guilt in my gut for not turning back. That something can happen any minute, any second and I could be wishing to take back the words I said. Regretting I said them at all. I don't want to give up on us. There's not much I have left and if he died, I have nothing. Nobody left to love.

I walk forward keeping a steady pace. I feel my hands tremble as I hold the gun. I rarely get nervous about this stuff. I though i'd be use to it by now. I tap my thumb slightly on the gun. It's incredible this weapon could have so much power over somebodys life. That all it takes one pull of a trigger and boom- you're dead.

People at Dauntless think were supposed to be okay with just shooting somebody. That it's something perfectly normal. Do they get left with guilt after killing somebody? Am I the only one who has the gut-wrenching feeling at the pit of their stomach? I can't be.

I turn a building corner and lean myself on the wall. I hear faint footsteps from the distance becoming closer as each second passes by. The wind blows in my face, scrattering my hair and I quickly put it behind my ear. My hair's getting longer and seems like it needs a trim. I remember my mom cutting my hair, piece by piece, watching as the strands fall slowly onto the floor. I picture her in my mind.  Her bright green eyes, dimpled cheeks, wavy blonde hair. It's like I saw her yesterday. Except, I haven't seen her in a long time, and I won't see her after another long period of time. I hope she's proud of me.

The footsteps become louder and they are closer now. Like they can pass by me any minute. My body tenses up and I feel my index finger go over the trigger. I have an urge to push it for some reason, but I don't. I walk straight forward, still leaning against the wall and slightly close my eyes. There's so much to worry about right now.

There voices become clear now. I hear two men speaking, "-can't believe they thought they wouldn't be caught." The second guy laughs and says, "so, is Jeanine going to pick them up?" I step forward, uncovering myself from the wall and point my gun straight at one of the guys face.

The first guy stares in disbelief and puts his hands up and backs up a couple steps. "Woah there little girl, you sure you're not making a mistake here?"

I notice both of them are unarmed and the second guy stares at me, turning his head back to his friend.

"I'm not a 'little girl'." I reply coldly. "Where are the girls?" I ask.

"You don't need to know that." the second guy replies. I point the gun at his knee and pull the trigger. I feel the weight on my hands and my knees. They feel like they're going to give out.

"Tell me where they are!" I scream, "I'll shoot your friend here too!"

The guy I shot is on the floor holding the wound and the first guy drops to the floor along with him. I point my gun at the first guy. "I'll ask you one more time." I say slowly, "Where are they?" The first guy just stares at me and I decide to pull the trigger again. Before I see the bullet wound go through his arm, I close my eyes. I hear him scream out in pain and I scream once more, "Tell me!"