Break Down the Walls (Divergent Story)

Chapter 4

Okay, so i'm completely dedicated to writing this now. i have 70 pages written up, all ready to be posted so you won't have to wait too long. sorry for not posting yesterday, i was pretty busy, and yeah. soo... hope you enjoy!!!!

CHAPTER 4

“I call top bunk!” Dana shouts, her mood shifting spontaneously. She clambers up the small rail and settles on top, the sheets smoothing out beneath her.

“I guess I don’t really get a say,” I mutter, smiling. I pick up the pile of clothes that they’ve laid out for us. All black. Not surprising.

“I’m going to get washed up. And changed.” I announce. She nods her head and closes her eyes, pulling the sheets around her to wrap herself in a cocoon. She must be tired.

I bring the clothes and a towel with me and try to direct myself to the showers, going down different paths then retreating when I don’t see them. After I’m just about to give up, until I collide face-first into Four’s chest.

I fall back, on my butt, cradling my nose in my hand. It is definitely bleeding. I’ve always had a sensitive nose, so every time Marcus hit me near my nose would just gush.

“Jesus,” he says.

“Nope, just me,” I reply, using one hand to steady myself back on my feet. The blood is pooling in my right hand that I hold to my nose and I need something to wipe it up.

“Where are the bathrooms?” I ask him. He takes a look at my hand and swears under his breath. It’s beginning to drip from my hand to the floor now, thick and dark.

“Follow me,” he says. I grab my clothes and begin to follow him as he jogs lightly through the hallway and I keep up as much as I can—I mean, without trying to spill the blood everywhere—and we’re there within a few minutes. Bloody washrooms, right on the left of the dorms.

“Get paper towel or something,” I tell him, leaning over the sink. I turn on the water and the blood goes pink when it hits the sink. I run my hand under the water, scrubbing at the skin between my knuckles where it always sticks to.

“Here,” he says, handing them to me. I fold the toilet paper neatly then press it to my nose, leaning backwards.

“Are you sure you should be leaning—” he starts.

“I’ve done this a lot. I’m used to it.” I cut him off. But he doesn’t give up.

“I’m just saying, people tend to throw up when the blood gets to their stomach.” I look at him quizzically.

“Into your stomach?” I look at him blankly. “Well, yeah.” He says. “When you lean backwards then the blood goes into your esophagus then down to your stomach. Like when you snort water, it goes down to your stomach. But your stomach is used to that, so you don’t throw up.” I snort.

“Thought you were Dauntless, not Erudite.” I comment. He smirks.

“Well, I’m not a complete idiot,” he says. Then I feel it. Coming up my throat. He was right.

“Shit—” I run over to the nearest toilet and crouch over it, vomiting red bile. It tastes metallic in my mouth, bitter and horrendously warm. I cough a bit, then settle the toilet paper back onto my nose.

“Told you,” he laughs. I glare up at him, and he helps me up. I walk back over to the sink, leaning forward this time.

“You can leave,” I tell him. He shakes his head.

“Not until you’re okay,” he protests. God, why is he so stubborn.  

“I thoughts Stiffs didn’t swear,” he comments, setting his palm against the counter. Man, this guy was getting on my nerves.