For The Better

Chapter 32

-Tris' Pov-

Blood is a strange color, bright red and dark red mixing together in a pool.

I hear the familiar sound of a knife sinking into flesh over and over.

I don't scream, I don't move, I don't try and fight her, I cry. I cry as silent as I can and soon I see the salty tears and odd blood mixing and for once I understand true beauty. I understand what its like to live and be feel and hear and touch and… for once I understand what its like to love and be loved.

I understand what pain feels like, I understand what feeling your child moving inside you feels like, I understand what heartbreak feels like. But most important I understand what life means. Its what makes people smile and laugh and… God I would give anything to hear that. A laugh, a real laugh. A simple thing, that you can almost never find these days. But instead I have to listen to the sound of death. Of my death. And I don't want to be saved this time. I believe I'm ready.

Am I done yet? I ask myself.

-Shailene's Pov-

I stand there watching my mother being stabbed.

I don't know when or how I got out here, but I do know that I've never seen so much blood.

I slowly lift the gun dad keeps in the mattress and aim it at the black and purple haired girl. I pull the trigger and it jerks me back a little, not sure if I hit the girl or not. But then, I feel wet. One side of my body with specks of liquid. I open my eyes and looks at my hands, to see blood. Sweet, beautiful, blood, covering my arm in beads that look like rain drops on a window, running softly down. When I was a child I would play games in the train cars when it rained, and the goal of the game was to race rain drops, which ever one got to the bottom of the window first won. Most rain drops would collide with others and ruin it but I never minded.

And now I stand there watching my mother breathe slowly and painfully.

I drop to my knees and take my phone out dialing the numbers I know by heart and bringing the phone up to my ear, only to hear ringing instead of a voice.

My father picks up of the 6 ring.

"He-"

I cut him off

"Dad I think she's dead."