Tris' POV
My surroundings are faded. Dull is what some might call it. I can barley sense anything. I can't even tell where I am or if I'm cold. Everything is plaster-pale. I can't stand it, but I just can't shake the image away from my clouded brain. I wonder if this is how someone feels when they're drunk.
I hear crying of younger and older, yet can't comprehend who is who. I don't remember what sent me into this bright vision but whatever it is, I hate it with a burning passion.
I strive to focus on everything in the room, to make sense of it all. Soon the sound of monitors come into the image. So either a bomb or I'm in the hospital. But I know that I'm in the hospital. You don't freaking cry when there's a bomb, you scream, "Get me the hell out of here!" in pure fear. I love the idea of that.
It would be a great tv show really. Why I'm thinking this, I have no idea. It's something maybe Uriah would think. The little bastard made me dumb!
I feel something warm in my hand and then something moist and small splatter in my palm. There are only four people that it could be: Tobias, Caleb, Mom, or Dad.
The fingers are long and narrow so it must be Tobias. I want to be conscious and leap into his strong arms but this world isn't a wish-granting factory. No world is.
Disclaimer: Veronica Roth is the author of "Divergent", not me.
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Divergent High
FanfictionRegular high school? Nope! Read this to go through all the ups and downs of Divergent high with Tris, Four, Uriah, Christina and all of your favored Divergent characters! I worked very hard on this story so please don't steal any of my original idea...
