The Unlucky Ones

[1] - Blood

[Tobias Eaton]

PEOPLE SAY THAT ABNEGATION is all selflessness and joy and charm. But they don't know what happens behind the door of concrete house number 8. For others, it may be better. For me, it consists of blood. Gushing blood. The blood gushing from my back like a roaring waterfall. The red waves crashing against my skin, causing my body to tremble with pain.

A stiff leather belt slices through the air and ceases to stop at the sight of my skin. It crashes through the waterfalls of blood, ripping muscle from muscle once again. My teeth clench and a scream escapes my pursed lips.

I await the next soul-crushing sting of leather. I take in heavy, shaky breaths. I hear a clink as the buckle collapses to the ground. I can hear his heavy breathing. I can hear his heavy feet shuffle forward. His mouth is next to my ear.

" Clean up this mess. " He says.

I nod, biting my lip.

" Yes, sir. " I whisper.

I stay silent, with my back turned. I don't make a sound or move a muscle until I hear the sound of Marcus's retreat. I hear his heavy feet exit my room and hear the loud slam of his bedroom door. I fall to my knees, inhaling shaky breaths, exhaling sobs.

I bite my knuckle to avoid screaming. I lean against the blood-smeared wall, shaking violently. I look up at the window parallel to my own. From my bedroom, I have a direct view of the Prior house. Primarily, the girl's bedroom. She sits on her bed, brushing her hair blindly seeing as vanity is illegal in our faction except for every three months when you get a haircut and the day of your choosing ceremony.

When you get a haircut, you get 30 seconds to stare at yourself in the mirror and examine your complexion. If you cut your own hair, you have a 15-minute time limit to cut your hair and examine everything before the mirrors are hidden again. But on your choosing day, you're allowed an hour to dress up and make yourself look presentable.

Her Blue-Gray eyes dart to me. She stops brushing her hair, setting down her pale gray brush. She lifts her thin hand, waving to me. I lift my trembling hand and wave in return. She leans closer to the window and spots the blood. She stands, looking at the door to my house. I know what she wants to do. It's the Abnegation in her. I shake my head, mouthing a single word.

'Don't.'

She places her hand on the window.

'You need help. You're bleeding.'

I shake my head.

'Please don't.'

She looks down at me, a curiosity glimmering her eye.

'Why won't you let me help you?'

I stand, leaning against the windowsill of my window, now looking down at her.

'My Dad won't let you in. Your parents won't let you out.'

She nods.

'I'm sorry I couldn't help you.'

I shake my head.

'Don't be. It's not your fault.'

She nods, disappearing into the darkness of her bedroom, out of my eyesight. I walk to the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth, soaking up the blood out of the carpet and washing the stains off of the walls.

Erudite has spread what others believe to be a rumor about Marcus. But little do they know, its actually a fact. Erudite is saying that Marcus Eaton beats his son. And that is true. Every word they have said about Marcus is true. But no one knows his real truth. No one except for me.