Truth (a Divergent Fanfic)

Chapter Twenty Five

Dedicated to KiwiSushi149. Happy birthday!

*****

This is the hardest thing I've ever had to do

I don't know where to turn

If I can't turn to you, no

Cause I made enough mistakes

To last us both a lifetime

And it'll take that long to realise

That you're not mine ~ You Don’t Owe Me Anything, Tonight Alive

*****

My nose is bloody and dripping down my face. I lean against the cupboard door, trying to regain my breath. I mean, I knew this would happen, in a way, but I didn’t know it would happen so fast, or be this bad. 

That tall, rude girl from the First Impressions game, the one who hissed the loudest when I said I was Erudite, she’s the ringleader. Elecia, that’s her name. If I could just find a way to bring her down, all this would be over. Think, Amber. What can you do? What have they done?

They took me, punched me, kicked me, slapped me, and shoved me in my own closet. Oh the irony. They shoved me in the frikking closet. In my current state especially, I know I shouldn’t find it funny, but in a way I kind of do. I think I’m the only one though. Even here in Candor, where everything is supposed to be out in the open, my homosexuality is not a joke - far from it - and there’s nothing they can do to stop the bullying that will inevitably ensue. No. That part is up to me - it has to be.

My keen eye spots a glint of silver in the corner of the wardrobe, a sparkle of light amongst my dull black and white clothing. It’s a paperclip. Slowly, I pick it up and turn it over in my palm. Unfolding it, I slot it into the lock, as I have read of countless characters, criminals and heroes alike, doing in all my favourite mystery novels. Except, for them, it works. 

Sighing, I bring out once again the knife from my belt. When they attacked me, I didn’t want to knife them; I was so outnumbered, they would’ve turned it against me, and that was the last thing I wanted. It was also, unfortunately, covered in the trainer’s dried blood, although some bits were slowly and disgustingly starting to flake off. It would have brought up a lot of questions, had it been found. And questions, in a place where truth serum is so easily accessed, are a very dangerous thing indeed.

I put the knife into the lock and twist, and although more blood flakes off, it does it’s job. The door creaks slowly open. Carefully and fully aware that they will not hold off on a second beating, I poke my head around my prison door, letting out a sigh of relief and allowing myself to breathe again. There’s no one there. But where did they all go? 

I can see myself in the mirror and I look like absolute shit. I try, mostly in vain, to wipe some of the crusted blood off my face, and to dry my damp eyes, leaving them red and angry. All the sadness is gone now - they’ve destroyed my innocence and my vulnerability and all they’ve left is my rage. I clench my fists. Let them know they’ve created a monster. Well. An irate Erudite teenage girl. Close enough.