That night, I dream that Christina hangs from the railing again - except by only her toes this time. But it's different - because Caleb's hanging too. They tell me I can only save one of them. I try to save Caleb - but he falls before I can. And there is a betrayed look on Christina's face.
I wake up soaked in a puddle of my own sweat and shaky from the dream. I'm not too bothered by the nightmare - I have grown accustomed to them, and I prefer this over my usual nightmares.
Without spending another a minute thinking of the ghastly nightmare, I had, I walk to the girls' bathroom to shower and change. When I return to the room, I find my bed is a complete mess. The word "Stiff" is spray-painted across my mattress in red. The word is written smaller along the bed frame, and again on my pillow.
I should be angry, but I'm just grateful for the distraction.
Peter is standing behind me, whistly as he fluffs his pillow. It's hard to hate him. Not because I like him - no, he's a pathetic excuse for a human being, but he looks so... kind. His eyebrows turn upward naturally, and he has a wide, white smile.
As pretty as he may be, he's still pure evil.
'Nice decorations,' he says. I nod blankly.
'I supposed they are since you chose them yourself,' I say as I rip the sheet from the mattress, throwing it in a pile on the floor. 'I can't thank you enough.' My voice is filled with irony.
'Your Stiff friend has got some decorations of her own, too,' he says lightly while I pull off the pillowcases from my pillows.
'How delightful,' I say, my voice heavy with sarcasm.
I know what he's trying to do. I know he's trying to make me angry. Get a reaction. And usually, he would succeed in doing so. Not today. I'm just too - tired. Way to tired to deal with him.
'Yes, I'm sure I'm sure I am,' says Peter. I turn around to face him, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion. I must be really tired but -
'Are you trying to insult me, or flirt?'
'Why can't it be both?' With that, he leaves the room, leaving me very confused. For a second, I just stare at the open door, before facing my bed again stripping it of its last piece of graffiti. I'm just glad it isn't permanent.
Once I have put everything to wash, I head to the training where I see all of my friends whispering together in a tight-knit group. When they see me approaching, they immediately stop.
'What?' I ask tiredly. Will looks at me, unsure of whether he should share or not.
'Have you...' he hesitates, taking a deep breath. 'Have you checked the chalkboard?'
I shake my head, before turning to look. I will have to fight today since I had gotten a day off. Annoying since I'm feeling particularly sluggish today. All of my tiredness disappears when I look at the my chalkboard, my jaw dropping.
No! Not him! Anyone but him!
'Edward!' I slump down against the wall, trying not to wallow in self-pity which is proving to be very difficult with my current situation. 'Edward who's been studying hand-to-hand combat since he was twelve?'
'He actually started when he was ten -' starts Will, but he is cut off by a glare from Christina, which causes him to smile sheepishly at me. 'At least the fight will be over quickly?'
'Gee, thanks,' I say, sarcastically.
What is with my luck today? First Peter completely vandalizes my bed, and now I have to fight Edward? Tall, scary, Erudite Edward?
'At least you don't have to fight Peter,' says Tris sullenly.
Pfftt... I'm looking for an excuse to beat up Peter, but Edward? Anytime I see him so much as glance in my direction, I feel like running. Running and hiding.
When it's finally my turn to fight, I'm on the verge of pissing my pants. I'm crossing my fingers that he will knock me out in the first blow - I doubt he will give me that pleasure though.
'Tell Willie I love him!' I yell at Christina, and Will who hears my words replies with a middle finger, but he is still smiling. Good to know he feels happy about my coming death.
I turn to face Edward.
He's tall. So very tall, and huge. At least compared to my thin frame.
Edward starts by aiming a kick for my side, but I dodge it. Just barely. Then he punches, and I'm not fast enough to dodge this. I think he broke my nose because the floor's turning red.
I wipe the blood with my sleeve as Edward approaches me once more.
Another punch. I dodge. Kick. He misses, but still hits my shin. Punch. Dodge. As he comes closer, I realise he's managed to corner me which must have been his plan the whole time. I am so dead.
I gulp as he comes closer, before a bright idea visits me. I jerk my knee up, and he falls to his own. I take the situation to my advantage, landing a punch on his face. It only leaves a slight bruise on his otherwise unharmed face.
To be honest, I feel as if I got more hurt than the punch than he did. I may have broken my knuckles.
And that's when I realise that I made a mistake. I miscalculated how long he will be staying down - because a second later, his fist makes contact with my jaw, knocking me to the ground.
He is towering over me, as he stomps over. He's mad. Rightfully, I mean I just did kick him where the sun don't shine.
Still on the floor, I grab his ankle, separating his legs so I roll underneath them to the other side. It does nothing to stop him - it only delays the inevitable, because when he turns? I know I'm dead.
One punch and everything goes black.
...
'You are an idiot,' are the words I wake up to. Spoken by yours truly, William what's-his-last-name or Willie as I playfully refer to him as. Perhaps not the best nickname I have thought up, but it works.
'Thanks for confirming something that I already know,' I say, sitting up as I rub the back of my head. The light is blinding me, but my eyes adjust after a little white.
'Where are the others?' I ask. Will shrugs his shoulders, and I frown. Great, nearly all of my friends have ditched me in the infirmary. Just shows how much they care for me - but at least Will's still here.
'They didn't ditch you,' says Will. Is he a mind-reader? That would be so co - 'You do know you're saying all of this out loud.' Really? 'Yeah.' Damn it. 'I heard that.' I groan in frustration. 'It's the medicine they gave you - it's really strong.'
I nod stiffly, before reaching to touch my nose. It's broken - but I feel no pain. Exactly how strong is the medicine?
'You need to have these,' says Will, holding out some pills to me. Painkillers to be exact. I reluctantly swallow them. I don't like the fact that I have bee saying all of my private thoughts out loud. 'I can still you hear.'
Fu -
'Don't swear,' reprimands Will, before sighing softly. 'The others went because the nurses forced them to go eat dinner - I had to stay to pass on a message.'
I wait, but Will doesn't speak. I look at him, an eyebrow raised, only to see him staring intensely at my nose.
'It's bleeding again, isn't it?' Will nods. 'Well, what were you going to say?' Will looks away from my bleeding nose, a sober expression on his face.
'I just wanted to tell you that you missed Eric's announcement,' he explains. 'We're going on a field trip tomorrow, to the fence, to learn about Dauntless jobs,' he says. 'We have to be on the train by eight fifteen or risk facing Eric's fury.' Will visibly shudders.
'He's terrifying, isn't he?' Will nods in agreement, before standing.
'I'm going to get dinner now - try not to die,' says Will. I smile at him - a genuine smile because the pain meds are working and blocking out the pain which has returned. 'And I'll get the nurse. Hopefully she'll fix that,' he says, scrunching up his face in mock-disgust as he gestures to the general area of my nose.
I pretend to be offended.
'Hey,' I say, puffing out my chest proudly. 'My nose is beautiful - it's not my fault Edward can't appreciate such wonderful pieces of art.' The tips of Will's lips lift.
'I'll see you later,' he says, dropping the act and leaving me utterly alone. A feeling which I find myself becoming more accustomed to than I would like.
I am hopeless.