#15

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(Insurgent)

"I don't . . ." I choke on the words and start to cry. "I can't . . . make it . . . that long."
"Tris," he says sternly. He never coddles me. I wish that, just this once, he would coddle me. "You have to. You have to survive this."
"Why?" The question forms in my stomach and launches from my throat like a moan. I feel like thumping my fists against his chest, like a child throwing a tantrum. Tears cover my cheeks, and I know I'm acting ridiculous but I can't stop. "Why do I have to? Why can't someone else do something for once? What if I don't want to do this anymore?"
And what this is, I realize, is life. I don't want it.

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