✧∘ଂ ࿐ ཾ
[ vii. seven ! ]
❛ ᴀ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅʟʏ ʀᴇᴍɪɴᴅᴇʀ ❜
SHE REMEMBERED THE SOUND HE made when she suffocated him. The way his body moved underneath hers as she pressed the pillow firmly against his face. The way his movement became weaker for each passing second, as the boy was slowly dying. She remembered it so clearly that if she closed her eyes, she could relive the moment her brother's life ended.
Tara was making the same noises as she woke up with a pillow pressed against her face.
Her first thought of who might be murdering her was Ben. He had barely been able to look her in the eyes ever since she almost ended his twin brother's life. He survived — thankfully — but spent the next twenty-four hours in the medbay. He came close to being cut from Dauntless entirely, due to his injuries he might not have been able to continue training. But Adrian showed up the following day, — face swollen, eyes bloodshot and with a seriously buckled nose. Tara wanted to believe she made him look tougher, but she did not like to think about what she had done to him.
She lost control and became someone she feared.
As her thoughts drifted towards Ben, she knew it was a dead-end and decided to throw that idea out the window. Tara knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't choose death-by-pillow as his way to bring her to her demise. No, he was much smarter than that.
Her thoughts never got the chance to suspect another person because she realized she was quickly running out of oxygen. Her lungs began to ache in an almost unbearable pain, like thick ropes were wrapped around them and tightening every second. The only comprehensible sound was the pounding of her heart in her ears, a panicked beat of her organ trying (and failing) to transport oxygen around her body. Tara never thought she would meet the same fate as Frederick and Father did. Oh, how the world loved to prove her wrong sometimes.
What a pathetic way to die, she couldn't stop herself from thinking.
Just as she felt her lungs explode and her eyes roll to the back of her head, the weight of the pillow was removed and a deep breath surged its way into her lungs, filling the silent room with the sound of her hoarse throat. Tara's hands grasped the sheets of her bed and she tried to sit up, but she couldn't. She had barely noticed the weight of the person on top of her until then. Tara opened her eyes and for a second she wondered if they really were open, or if something was covering them. She could not see anything. The room was filled with the kind of noir darkness which made it impossible to see your hand even if it was inches away from your face, and the silence was deafening. She couldn't see the killer, but felt their presence close to her face as their hot breath batted against her face.
"Get the fuck—" she raised her voice but a hand was messily placed over her mouth, almost missing it entirely. She grimaced at the taste of their sweaty hand as it came in contact with her lips. A boy, she thought. Definitely a boy.
"Shhh," Their lips were just next to her ear as they whispered, sending uncomfortable shivers down her spine. It startled her at first, a knot growing in the pit of her stomach. Her knuckles turned ghostly pale as she clenched them, ignoring the stinging sensation in her palms from her nails digging into them. "We don't want to wake out fellow friends do we?"
Her response was incoherent.
"See this as a... uhh..." The words dragged out for an eternity, and she couldn't figure out who the person was because they were doing something weird with their voice. "—as a warning. And let's just say there won't be another one."
Tara would be lying to herself if she said she wasn't terrified. She couldn't put her finger too if it were because of the proximity between her and the person, or the fact that they had just death threatened her — or even the fact that she could not see whoever had been trying to suffocate her a moment ago. There was something about the fact that she was almost dying, and she could do nothing to stand up for herself. It brought the girl an immense feeling of self-loathing, thinking that her life would end just as pathetically as the lives she had ended.
"Your ranking is quite good," they continued. "I must say I'm impressed. Fifth place, damn." She was highest ranked of all the girls, and maybe someone felt threatened by her, but then again, this was no girl talking. "Let's just say... You're heading in the wrong direction. One more step up the ranks, and you and I are gonna have a little problem, you see?"
She mumbled something underneath his hand.
"Good."
She shut her eyes tightly, hoping that they could not see in the dark just like her, because tears were threatening to spill at any second.
And just as quickly as they had awoken her from her sleep, they were gone. But Tara could still feel their weight upon her body, she could still feel the pillow pressed against her face as she was fighting to keep her hands from trembling.
Stop it, stop it, stop it!
The remainder of the night became a futile tussle of conflicting thoughts, the tenseness to her muscles made her like a mannequin on the soft mattress, not a girl of flesh and bone. Her head spun in a tornado of images, flashing before her eyes at lightning speed as she twisted and turned on the bed. Her face pinched together in a distorted frown, eyebrows furrowed, lips slightly pursed, and a sort of tenseness to the corner of her eyes.
Time flowed like cement. She turned her head and checked the clock above her for the time. A minute had passed since she last checked an hour ago, or so it seemed. The light in the room was back again, someone had gone to the toilet and turned it on. Lying there with nothing to stare at but a wall with chipped grey paint was excruciatingly dull and the nerves from her awakening were still flowing around in her body like poison. She exhaled deeply before throwing the duvet off her body, the cold air washing over her body as she sat up, feet planted on the stone floor. She reached for her pants which hung on the frame and quickly got dressed, tying her shoes a little too tight, and ripping out one too many hair strands whilst tying it into a ponytail.
And then she was off.
Her feet pounded the tarmac with all the grace of a sack of wet concrete, the springing graceful steps of one hour earlier had long since disappeared. Her raspy throat was as parched as a dead lizard in the desert sun. Her head bobbed loosely from side to side with each footfall and her eyes felt heavy in their sockets. She couldn't calculate how long her run had been, relying on the sun which was rising outside the compound building and her desperate need for water to know she was done for the morning.
It wasn't the first time she had awakened before the others and trained by herself, though never had she ran for so long, and so fast. As soon as the rhythmic sound of her feet hitting the ground beneath her, her mind became blank of thoughts, her eyes fixed ahead of her as she ran laps around the compound.
She stopped once inside and leaned over, gasping for breath as sweat drizzled down her face.
A sudden sound to her left startled the girl and she quickly flew into a fighting stance, until her eyes fell upon the Stiff. Her shoulders relaxed, a breath she didn't realize she had held in, escaped her dry lips. She watched as Tris repeatedly hit the orange punching bag — she looked weak.
"Oh, good morning."
Tara hadn't expected that Tris would speak to her and confusion was evident on her features as she sent an awkward nod in return. She didn't rely on her dry throat to croak out an answer, or rather, she didn't want to.
"I was glad to see you here now," Tris continued, the back of her hand wiping away the droplets of sweat on her forehead. Tara nodded, showing that she heard what the girl said, but made no effort to reply. Tris shifted her weight between her feet, struggling to make conversation with the former Erudite. "I've seen you fight."
The conversation was still one-sided as Tara raised her right eyebrow, placing her hands on either hip as she waited for the girl to get to the point. Patience was not one of her strengths. Neither was social interactions.
"You're good," she continued.
Tara closed her eyes and fought the urge to pinch her nose. "Was that all? I've got water I need to consume, and you're currently the reason behind my prolonged dehydration."
A flush of pink washed over Tris' face. "Oh um... I was just gonna ask if you had any... tips?"
"Tips?"
"Yeah, tips for fighting."
Somethings escaped Tara's lips. Was is a smile? A laugh? Just as she was about to ignore the request for help and head towards the tap of water in the corner of the room, her eyes caught sight of the muscular brunette as he came into view, carrying his jacket in his hands. "Why don't you ask Four?" she said, pointing at him with a nonchalant raise to her eyebrows.
At the mention of his name, his eyes drifted up from the floor and landed on the pair. "Don't get me involved." The low rumble of his voice echoed throughout the compound as he strode past them.
Tris did not know what to say, she felt embarrassed. Swallowing the awful awkwardness that lingered in the air, she spun on her heel and faced the orange bag again. And as she punched it left and right, Tara could not help but frown at her poor technique. She looked quite... stiff. There was a slight raise to the corner of her lips as she thought about it, and everything just seemed to make sense.
"You have a poor posture. You look like a cheeto, or maybe more like a straw of grass, now that I think of it." Tris jumped around at the sound of her voice. "Keep a little more tension here," Tara said and clapped a hand on her own abdomen. "Use your whole upper body while punching, it will make it more powerful, and it'll hurt more for the other."
"Oh... Than—"
"And make sure you use your entire body, twist like this." She showed her lazily, not wanting to help her too much. She mustn't become a threat, Tara thought. "But that's all I'm gonna give you. The rest you need to figure out on your own, that's the only way you'll get better."
"Th—"
"Don't thank me," she interrupted.
Tris bit her lower lip and nodded instead.
She stayed for a few seconds and watched at the Stiff continued, it didn't look good, but certainly better. As Tara jogged off toward the longing sensation of water spiralling down her throat, she couldn't help it but ask herself why she had done it. Why she had helped her. Maybe it was out of pity, because even though she loved seeing the girl get beaten up in the fighting ring, she knew it can't be easy for her. Tris tried, well at least more than some others, and there was something in that that reminded Tara of herself in a way.
She drowned her face in the ice-cold water, loving the feeling of it melting over her features. Like a soft punch.
"That was almost nice of you."
The water slid down between her fingers as she looked up and met Four's eyes. She hadn't noticed his presence.
"Why'd you do that?"
She arched a brow. "I remember you saying you didn't want to get involved."
He looked to the side and then his gaze fell to the floor. There was a slight shake of his head, a look of defeat painting his features as he turned around and exited, the door slamming shut behind him.
Again, social interactions were not her strongest suit.
✧∘ଂ ࿐ ཾ
A SUDDEN RUSH OF PAIN jolted throughout her body. Her stomach ached, her arms lost tension and her legs began to weaken. He will not get the better of me, she thought as she dropped to the ground. Tara's tongue was soaked in the taste of blood. Bruised and winded, with a leg in agony, she grabbed Edward foot and pulled him to the ground.
She got to her feet quickly and kicked him in the abdomen. Yet another sound of pain escaped his lips as his eyes darted towards her frame. He rolled to the side, dodging yet another foot coming his way, and quickly shuffled to his feet, hands up to protect his vital parts.
They looked at each other in a sort of silent argument, a moment passing with their heavy breaths and aching bodies. And as fists were thrown in the air, neither hit their target. They knew each other too well. They had done this hundreds of times before, having learned of each other's tells and technique — each other's weaknesses. Their fight was like a dance, an amusement to anyone watching. Anyone but Eric.
Tara knew she needed to do something unexpected to catch him off guard. She waited for him to advance on her, her eyes darting to his feet to see them move slightly forward. Now was her chance. She pointed her toes to the left (because she knew he would look at them) and started to lean that way, attracting his hand to that side — opening up his chest. She ducked, dodged his hand and bent to the right, her hand colliding with his throat.
Edward shuffled back, clutching his throat as he coughed. A curve of her lip drew her forward once again and she was about to kick his knee when he took a step forward grabbed her foot mid-air.
His head tilted slightly, a devilish smirk on his lips. Caught you.
He had the muscular advantage of the two, using his strength to twist her leg and push her back. She closed her eyes and strained her neck as she collided with the floor, pain soaring through every body part. Her view became spattered with dark spots as she felt a kick to the chest, pushing air out of her lungs in a wheeze. Tara clenched her jaw tightly and tried to roll to her side. She started to get up on her knees, but a foot to the ribs pushed her down again.
A laugh escaped her lips as she rolled to the side. It had almost been ticklish.
She tried again, again, again. But her movement was becoming slower every time as she struggled to avoid his kicks or his knuckles. Her head was too slow, she couldn't seem to get her eyes to focus, everything around her became a harsh morph of colours.
Tara got to her feet, an achievement in her eyes. There was blood spilling out from her nose, a deep cut in her lower lip and purple spots starting to appear on her face. Yet she still stood. And she sent him a sickening smile as he sighed.
"You never knew when to stop," Edward hissed, the pain in his knuckles stinging like a bee as he glanced down at the red-ish hue of his skin.
The knuckle that collided with her eyebrow caught her off guard. She had barely seen it coming. Edward followed her to the floor this time, leaning over her with a fist in the air. His face was twisted, a morphed version of a face which she had once known. Sweat mixed with blood streaming down his face, reaching the high point of his nose before sliding off.
It collided with her forehead.
Something that might have resembled a smile grew on her face as she laid there underneath him, blood staining her teeth, face already bruising, as she croaked out, "You're dripping."
She watched his curled up fist hesitate in the air as it was about to strike her on her right cheek.
"Don't," he said under his breath, his words laced with a sort of emotion she could not recognize. "Don't go there."
She felt everything as the world collapsed around her, darkness engulfing her body in a void of pain.
✧∘ଂ ࿐ ཾ
PURPLE WELTS WERE SCATTERED across her abdomen like a disease. It hurt to breathe and she wondered if some ribs were cracked, or if this was just the normal pain everyone experienced.
It had been a while since she had felt it.
"What is it you're doing?" She could barely take in her surrounding before he had spoken. His brown eyes looking deeply into hers. There was an unrecognizable expression on his face.
"What?" Tara barely recognized her voice. She reached for the glass on the table and bit down her lip to stop herself from wincing.
"This act. What is it?"
"What is what?"
"Tara," his voice was threatening, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Tara said as she looked down at her hands, fumbling with the sheets of the bed.
"I saw you," Four said. "I've been watching you, you know..." She didn't. "And at first it was just normal things; punching Zeke; almost killing Adrian; helping Tris — you know what I mean." She didn't. "But that thing I saw in the ring today," he paused, and the silence was choking her. "It's like you enjoyed the pain. Like you fed off it."
Tara could not look him in the eyes, her gaze still printed on the dull grey shade on the sheets. For a few moments, she had no idea what to say to him. The worst thing about it all was that he was right, she did feed of it. She always did, because she learned from a young age that pain would always be there, always be haunting her, no matter what she did. And the only solution to her worries was to learn to enjoy it instead. And she started to. Mild pain was nothing to the girl, it was like a reminder of who she had become. But she found it hard to admit to herself that what happened in the ring today, actually hurt. For the first time in a while.
"There's nothing like a little bit of pain to remind you that you're alive," Tara replied.
"Stop that."
"Why do you even care?" She sat up and leaned closer to the foot of the bed where he stood. "Huh?"
"Because you're my Initiate." He looked annoyed. Angry. Lost. "I have a certain responsibility for you," he said. It was clear to her that he wasn't saying everything that was on his mind, she had learned to see that behind someone's eyes. "I can't have my Initiates going around killing themselves."
"I didn't ask you to look out for me."
"It comes with the job, Tara."
"Yeah well... don't. Okay?" She threw the duvet over her legs and carefully planted her feet on the ground. She tried to keep her face neutral, but the aching of her bones was uncomfortably stinging her entire body. She bit her lower lip. "Don't worry about me handling the pain," She glanced at him. "I've had a lot of practice."
His grip on the frame of the bed tightened for a second. "Don't be an idiot," Four sighed. "I don't want to have to fill out the paperwork for your death."
"Okay Mr Smart Guy," she mocked, whilst stretching out her limbs as far as they would allow. "I'll try to keep the killing to a minimum."
He looked at her in the Are you fucking kidding me? kind of way. He opened his mouth to speak, but it shut in an instant, and then he was gone.
She didn't follow him out with her eyes but looked at the table next to the bed. Besides the glass of water stood a small mirror. And staring back at her, was everything she disliked about herself. Tara couldn't comprehend why he cared, or even if his words were sincere, and not lies to manipulate her. It was unknown territory to her, caring for another human, wanting to protect them from everything cruel and evil in this world. She had never experienced it growing up. From the people who should have protected her and cared for her, she had only been met with a cold shoulder or a accusing stare. That's how you treated each other, it was the first lesson she ever learnt: that no one was there for you except yourself. So what was it about him that made him care for her?
As Four exited the medbay, with teeth gritted so hard his jaw hurt, his eyes caught a glimpse of the blonde boy in the hallway, who's face peeked through the glass window, he looked worried for a split second but the facade was changed as she noticed the presence of the Dauntless leader. Four passed him with the grace of a bull, bumping into his shoulder harder than initially intended.
There was a moment of silence as he stopped midway and turned around. "Why don't you go in?"
"Why should I?"
Four tilted his head with a frown. "You're friends, aren't you?"
Edward's glance left her frame as he looked at him. "I don't know," he hesitated. "Depends on who you ask."
"I'm asking you."
His jaw tightened. "I just told you I don't know."
"She could use a friend," Four stated the obvious.
"I don't think she would agree."
"And how would you know?" He was getting quite annoyed with his ignorance.
Edward's head tilted back as a breath of laughter escaped his lips. He too was getting annoyed. "Do you even know her?"
"No," Four replied. "But you seem to do." He looked at him, question marks printed all over his face as he struggled to read the boy's facial expressions. "I think Tara needs you."
He scoffed and Four couldn't tell if it were out of amusement, disgust or pain. He couldn't tell if he was being sincere about caring for her or not, and it drove him mad. "Well if you haven't realised," Edward twisted his head to the side to catch a glimpse of the girl through the window, "Tara hates my guts."
He never replied, but his eyes said everything.
✧∘ଂ ࿐ ཾ
[ vii. ali's note ! ]
a longer chapter today. i worked hard to
get this out, and i've been working a lot on
this story lately so hopefully the next won't be
too long. please tell me what you thought of
this chapter <3
there's a lot happening between tara and
edward, we love a good old dramaaaaaa
it will be a bit more explained in the next
chapter, oops spoiler.... so look out for that ;)
also the tara and four duo is going to be
rough and it's going to be slow. she is a
person who has a hard time trusting people
or even talk to them. so please be patient
with her. bc once they start, they're gonna
be a powerful mf duo (quote;unquote)