"Tris, wake up!" I yell in her ear, shaking her.
"Abbi, go back to bed." she whines.
"Marcus is here."
Four shoots up out of bed, gun in his hand. He's slept like that, with a gun in his hand, ever since the factions came back. He asks only one question, one word. "Where?"
"In the hallway. I heard Savannah screaming, and him asking where I was, and.."
Tears again.
I hate this. I'm supposed to be strong, tough.
I'm supposed to be dauntless, but I'm not.
I'm Contritent.
YOU ARE READING
Circumvent
FanfictionI hate this constant fight for survival. Should we just give them the genetic serum? Is it even worth it? "It's all going to be okay," Luke tells me for the thousandth time. "I'm pretty sure that the definition of 'okay' isn't thirteen-year-olds...
