Forlot - Books 10-12

Chapter Two

TRIS' P.O.V.

I have a best friend - or should I say, had a best friend - and her name was Kara. I cannot tell you her last name because she kept it a secret, and I always thought that was the only secret.

Boy, was I wrong.

Since we met, we had done everything together, which I find ironic because we were interested in opposite things. She was more of the dreamer, and I was more of the facts person. But I guess that the reason that we became close was because we only had each other to lean on.

In fact, let me take you back to it all.

I have lived in the town of Forlot my entire life. I was born and familiar with the strange laws that the leaders of Forlot passed from time to time. Though, I never questioned the state of the laws because I learned this town's background. It was built on fictional and creativity, not real and logic. So if I was aware of this, why did I prefer real over fictional?

I am a person of color, and the real world has changed for the better. Many years ago, my people, people of color, were slaves, and most were treated horribly. But then good triumphed over bad once again, and now my people, including the women, can vote, build careers, and do other incredible things.

I learned all of this from my trips out of Forlot. Once every three months, my mom, dad, and I would go on vacation and explore the rest of the country, which was the United States. I had bought, read, and wrote notes on books that tell stories about the real world. No fiction. Just facts and logic.

Even though that everybody in the school had heard of the new student, Kara, I, for some reason, did not.

So how did I end meeting Kara? It was completely on accident.

I was reading one of my history books during the last ten minutes of my last class that day. The bell rang, and all the students packed up their things, got up from their seats, and exited the classroom. I, however, did not want to leave. At least, not at that moment. I was on a very interesting part in my book and really desired to read it. But the consequence for doing so ran through my mind. The teacher would just tell me to go because she was leaving early.

I quickly gathered my supplies, still having my book open and holding it, and stood up. I casually walked out and into the hallway, trying to finish the story before I went home. I was near my locker and almost done reading when...

Bam!

I stumbled back, and my pencil box and one of my textbooks fell to the floor. They made loud thud! sounds that echoed throughout as they made contact with the hard floor. I realized that I had bumped into someone or something and shut my book. I set my supplies and book next to my locker, picked up my textbook and pencil box, and set them with the rest of my stuff. From the corner of my eye, I noticed a person standing in front of me. At that point, a wave of embarrassment rushed over me.

"My gosh. I am so sorry," I apologized. "It is my fault. I did not see where I was going."

I heard a giggle. Probably coming from the person whom I bumped into.

"It is okay. No need to blame yourself. I was daydreaming, so..."

I climbed back to my feet and examined her. "Who are you? I have never seen you in this school before."

"I am new. The new student. Did nobody tell you?"

I could feel sweat in my palms. "No. I was never informed. Then again, the communication here stinks. They inform the popular students the most important things. Never the quiet or unpopular ones."

"That is a bunch of crub." She held out her hand for me to shake. "My name is Kara."

Kara had short, blond hair and was wearing a green, short-sleeved shirt, purple pants, and tennis shoes. She was holding no school supplies, which I found a bit bizarre, but I figured that she had taken care of them. I mean, she had her backpack, which was pink and blue.

"Nice to meet you, Kara," I said as I reached out and shook her hand. "My real name is Trisha, but I prefer to be called Tris." We pulled our hands away.

"What a beautiful name," Kara complimented. "Say, would you like to hang out at the only restaurant in Forlot?"

I glanced at my history book, and then back at her. "I do not know..."

"It is okay. If you have other plans, tell me. I understand. I was just thinking that you and I could become friends."

Guilt washed over me. I felt bad for her.

She probably does not have any friends. She reminds me of myself. Lonely and ignored.

I opened my locker and pulled out my backpack. "I will come with you, Kara," I agreed to her terms. "We will hang out."

Kara squealed and clapped her hands excitedly. "Thank you, Tris. I promise that you will not regret it."

And she was right. I did not regret it at all.

She was a blast to spend time with. She was positive, helpful, kind, and much more. I wished that it never ended.

But it did.

Months later, she began acting strange. She was sad all the time. I kept asking her what was up, but she never told me. Not long after that, I got the disturbing news.

I was reading my history book, when my dad came to me and put a hand on my shoulder.

"Tris..." he began. "...I do not know how else to tell you this, but...Kara is dead. Your friend took herself."