All of the initiates, Dauntless-born and transfers alike, are corralled toward the pit where Eric awaits us–standing on a small makeshift platform. It seems anybody with nothing important to do is here as well. I woke up after Four left and he left a note saying to head to the pit.
"As you said, Dauntless funerals are celebrations. And Eric's there in the pit to kick it all off. Be there by 10 AM."
"Quiet down, everyone!" I flinch when I hear something bang and echo, some kind of drum was hit. The sound makes those already in Dauntless grow silent. "Thank you. As you know, we're here because Albert, an initiate, jumped into the chasm last night."
It was quiet before but now it felt still. Death can silence anything. Except for the very water that allowed Al to commit suicide. The rushing of the chasm is a reminder of the danger to everyone–and the simulation for me.
"We do not know why, and it would be easy to mourn the loss of him today. But we did not choose a life of ease when we became Dauntless. And the truth is..." He smiles but there's something robotic about the motion, "The truth is, Albert is now exploring an unknown, uncertain place."
My brain clocks out once Eric starts saying how brave Al is for having killed himself. The entire thing makes me kind of sick to my stomach–when the Dauntless begin shouting "Albert" I find the urge to throw up becoming harder to ignore. I see Tris running off and do the same–only I'm in search of a trash can.
Honestly, anything will work at this point. So long as I don't empty my stomach on the stone floor, I think I'll be fine. When I finally find a bin, my hand is covering my mouth to keep the bile from escaping. I lean against the cool walls and try to ignore the horrible taste in my mouth.
I have a mission today. To practice running through the fear landscape. David mentioned something about an injection. I hate them but practicing this will help me get over my aversion to needles.
I go the long way around through the living spaces carved into the stone in order to avoid the celebration happening in the pit. Fractured lives are celebrated when they die but not in the same way Dauntless does it. We celebrate because they're finally free from this life. They get to rest. They are no longer impoverished or in pain–they're eternal.
But word of mouth dies out after a while. And nobody is willing to keep a record of everyone. So we all rely on stories told to one another. It's kind of beautiful in a way.
—
I do my best to recall Four's lesson on how to turn the simulation on. The computer is a bit confusing at first but I soon discover I can speak to it to guide it to where I'd like to go. "Rita Rose." My face shows up on a file showing vague information and a colorful infographic. I squint at the screen before deciding to just go in.
The wall opens and a black box is spit out, I grab it and see the needle. It's absolutely massive. I grit my teeth but lift the fabric of my scarf and insert it anyway. I can feel the contents flowing into my blood as I press down on the plunger. It felt like ice water entering my veins.
I approach the door and close my eyes as I open it–when I open them, I step backward but am met with a concrete wall instead of the door. That confuses me for a moment but I know I'm only imagining this. I just have to work through them and I'll be fine.
The concrete wall behind me is connected to the Hancock Building. And it's not the height that gives where I'm at away–it's the wind. It's so loud I have the urge to cover my ears but I don't.
It threatens to push me over when I walk toward the edge. There's no ledges or any way down. I could jump... I look around quickly. I'd like to get out of this fear immediately. It's the only one that makes my heart race like this.
A cable is dangling down the side of the building and I know immediately it's my only way down. Another thing I know is that I'd rather jump off that climb down that thing.
The thought of this being timed makes me decide–fuck it–as I run to the other end of the roof. I'm fighting against my instincts and the wind, it's hard. Now that I'm closer, I notice that the cable has rung-like pieces sticking out of the sides of it every foot or so.
"Handy." I deadpan.
I pull the thick cable toward me–and the roof–and slowly begin to climb onto it. It sways with my weight and it takes every bit of my strength not to panic and drop. Once it slows, I begin climbing down. I have to move with the wind and sometimes it throws me into the side of the building and I worry I might fall.
The wind pushes me back and forth–toward and away from the building–so much that I shatter a window and the cable slings inside, with me in tow. I land on the floor with much more force than expected and I groan.
There's still so much climbing to do. I stare down the edge of the hole that's going down to what I presume to be the first floor and see the shiny glint of something. My eyes narrow as I squint–trying to get a better view. The reflection keeps moving and I realize that it's water.
I don't know how deep it is but it looks dark. It's just a simulation. I remind myself and then I'm falling.
The water is cool and refreshing for one second before I'm presented with my next fear. My family in that room again. Something is different this time, they look dead already... like Al. Their limbs are big and jello-like, jiggling with each movement. Their skin... it's all wrong.
Aunt Enola looks purple and black, like she's been badly bruised... like Al was. Tammi's eyes are the same color as the sky even though I know they're actually brown. That's when I notice there is no glass separating us. It's just me–alive and well–watching them.
I'm frozen as I wonder what I could do. Unlike the simulation we did weeks prior–I have my wits about me, just as Four said. But there's nothing I can do in this situation. I've failed already. I couldn't save them, so what good can be done?
There's nothing for me to use to help them... not now, they look to be too far gone. My mother's murky eyes land on me again and I choke on my saliva.
"Rita, come here." Her disfigured form says and everything within me is saying not to go, to turn around and ignore her... but I can't say no to my ma. Not even now. My feet are heavy with dread as I walk over to her.
She's sitting with her legs folded under herself and the closer I get, the more the room looks like our living room. "Come," Ma opens her arms for me and even through the discoloration in her eyes, I can tell it's my mom. "How are you, habibi?"
There's nothing strange about the way she sounds so I close my eyes, enjoying the feeling of her holding me to her side, "I miss you, ma." I admit with a bit of embarrassment. I've always been more of my dad's child while Tammi would confide in our mother.
But I just miss her so much I ignore the sight of her swollen with water and hug her around the neck. Her hair smells like her, it's warm–not what I was expecting. "I'm sorry I couldn't help. I should have been there with you." I tell her.
"Oh, Rita, you owe us nothing." She cradles my head, "You did not abandon anyone–we are not your responsibility." I think this imagined version of my ma can also sense when I'm going to interrupt because she squeezes me harder. "Your only worry right now needs to be yourself. Nobody else."
What? I'm so confused. The fear simulator isn't supposed to comfort me... what's happening. When I draw back, my confusion must have gone through as me calming down because I'm faced with nudity again.
Only this time I'm not naked in the private way but my hair, arms, legs, and the skin of my neck are exposed. There's a chill in the air and I feel only a twinge of fear for what this might mean because I'm alone.
I've seen most of my body when alone, there's nothing about this that scares me... then I see him. Four. He's staring right at me–almost relishing in the sight and it makes me sick to my stomach. I remember how he saw my hair last night and didn't say a word about it. It's not like now though–my hair isn't being restrained.
It's not pulled back into a braid or ponytail, it's standing upright into what could be considered a fro.
Much like my family there's something terribly wrong with his eyes. They look fish-blue. I've never really liked light-colored eyes. There's something more than just melanin lacking in them.
Though it might just be because most people with blue eyes seem to come from Erudite and Abnegation. From what I've noticed at least.
The room is so much darker than before and I'm reminded of when Four found me wandering at night.
—
The room is dark but the light peeking under the door helps me to see as I tiptoe out. My soft-soled shoes make no sound on the cement floors on my way to the water fountain. When I woke up my mouth tasted stale and gross, it was probably the food we had for dinner.
I put a hand on the wall so as to not get lost and when I see the blue light above the water fountain, my eyes relax after straining to see in the dark. Before I can get a chance to drink, I hear something behind me. My breath catches as I turn around quickly so the person can't attack me. Once I meet his eyes, I sigh loudly.
"Oh, it's you," I say simply at the sight of Four.
He's out of his typical clothing and in what seems to be... training gear? "What're you doing up, initiate?" Four's tone makes me squint at him, he's never been quite so rude. It's usually Eric's job to make my life hell.
I pointed at the water fountain, "I was thirsty... why're you here? Don't you ever sleep?" When he doesn't answer I just roll my eyes and turn to drink. Four's hand stops me from turning, "What are you doing?" I shrug my shoulders so his hand falls.
"You shouldn't be out here alone," His fake concern only makes me irritated.
"I can take care of myself." His look of disbelief makes me scowl even though I practically just woke up, "Stop standing there like an idiot, what do you want?" I don't mean to sound so annoyed but I wasn't expecting to have to deal with him tonight. If anything I would have rather dealt with Peter than Four.
Just like he did when we first got to the compound, Four leans close to me–too close if I'm being honest. "I'm still your superior, initiate." His words make me want to smack him.
My nostrils flare as I glare right back at him, "It's after hours, so what do you want?" I copy his stance and get in his face, tired of his games. I close my fist, my knuckles cracking in the process. Four's brown eyes glance down to my clenched fists but I never look away from his face. We're so close I can practically smell his breath (which isn't a very good thing). Though I doubt that my breath smells any better.
"Don't want anything, I was going for a walk and found you... wandering." Once again, the sound of his clear voice makes me aggravated. I feel like I'm going to run out of words for irritation soon. "So, I'll ask you once, what are you doing up?"
"Did you not hear me, I was thirsty." I snap, my jaw set.
Our eyes clash as I watch his mind work through my answer. Now I'm glad my dad taught me what certain body language means. Four's trying to intimidate me and it won't work, I'm not the brashest girl in the world but I won't let him try and make me show my stomach. Brown against brown, the silence is deafening, our bodies stiff with tension as we wait for someone–anyone to speak.
"I'm going to go to sleep now, Four." I check his eyes for any emotion before getting a quick drink of water then going back toward the dormitory. As I close the door behind me, I realize something; Four just won. "That bastard," I mumble with a slight smile.
—
There's a blue glow shadowing his face from the back–like when he stepped out of his bathroom and looked like an angel. Only now, he seems devilish. His cheeks look hollow and his hair is a bit longer than usual. I want to run from him but I know he would catch me so quickly.
Why's Four in my fear landscape?
I glance to the side and see what appears to be the hall to the dorm, I could hide in the bathroom–no issue. And so I do, I expect Four to chase me but all he does is stare at my disappearing figure. I feel so naked. This is much worse than the first time going under.
Then there was no escape but then I was given one in the form of a jacket. Now I'm stuck with the one person I like. I pause halfway down the hallway–confused as to why my fear landscape isn't taunting me so much.
Four's standing where he was before, but he's turned to watch my retreating form. "Why aren't you chasing me?" I ask, eyebrows drawing downward.
"Why would I chase you?" I shrug. "Do you want me to?"
"God no, please don't." He nods and I feel the anxiety inside me coming down. His eyes trail over my exposed skin and while it still makes me want to hide, I feel more comfortable knowing he won't do anything to hurt me.
I blink and the simulation is over.
"What was that?" It's him. I spin around, feeling my arms for the exposed skin but I'm still covered. Four's here.
I gulp, "Fear landscape." Does he know what I saw? I really hope not. "Why're you here?"
Four scratches the back of his hand, "Same as you. Might as well join me."
"In your fear landscape? Are you sure?"
He shrugs, "Why not, it'll explain most of what I can't bear to say myself." I follow him out of the room and into the area with the computer.