Chapter 42 - Alone

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*** WARNING: This is a very intense chapter that could be upsetting to some due to suicidal themes in the form of a memory. If you begin to read but feel uncomfortable by any means, skip over the section that is italicized (there's also a little period as a signal where the memory is over). Skipping over this italicized part that is put in the perspective of a memory will not result in confusion for the plot in the future so please do not let that be your motivation to read uncomfortably.***

Chapter 42 - Alone

Tris

"Beatrice." He says. I cannot see, but judging by the sound of his footsteps, I know it's David. "Beatrice. Why don't you look at me when I am talking to you?"

I hide in my arms, the nerves in my body awaiting the sting of some kind of object.

He beats me daily.

Takes advantage of my mother every other day.

Threatens to kill my family weekly.

Denies my desire to die hourly.

"Just kill me. I want to die." I sob.

I wish I could be strong and not show that he has gotten to me.

I wish I couldn't let him win so easily.

But I just can't.

I can't take it anymore.

"That's good, Beatrice. I've told you many times though. Good things come to those who wait."

"I can't take it anymore." I croak, barely whispering.

"Tell me, Beatrice. If I were to kill you, right here, right now, what would your last words be?" He bends down closer to my level of laying on the ground.

"Trust can be easily gained, but it also can be easily lost. At one point in my life, I trusted you, David. Just remember that."

"You brought this on yourself, Beatrice."

"What? Being born? I know that's what your pissed about, David."

"Going against me, sending yourself to your own death, having the ability to defy death serum--"

"All happened because I was born."

"SHUT UP!" He yells.

"I don't mind flirting with death anymore."

"Glad to hear." He sneers.

"Shoot me, I dare you."

"Oh, how Dauntless of you, Beatrice."

"Shoot me, David. You know you want me dead. It's all you've ever wanted."

"You're not getting off that easy, Beatrice."

"What ever happened to that wheelchair I pushed you around in once? Not crippled anymore?"

"I'm much smarter than you."

"I surely never denied that."

"Sounds like you are."

"So what? What are you going to do? Shoot me? Kill me? Burry me alive?"

"Eventually."

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