𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝟎𝟏𝟑

"𝘼 𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙨 𝙨𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡𝙮,
𝙎𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙨.
𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙙𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙨 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙪𝙥 𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙝?
𝙄 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙣'𝙩 𝙨𝙖𝙮. 𝙄 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚."

𝘛𝘰𝘰 𝘔𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘐𝘴 𝘕𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘌𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 - 𝘍𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 + 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘔𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘦

▲ ▲ ▲ ▲

"Guys, come on!" You cried, dragging Al further down the corridor by his sleeve. The rest of your group trailed loosely behind you, laughing as Al shot them a pleading look behind your back. Giddiness was rippling through you like a stone on the still surface of a pond. You can't remember the last time this summer you felt this carefree. This happy. "Come on, come on, come on!"

"Hold your horses!" Christina called after you, but you and Al had already turned the corner and disappeared. He was the first victim of your excitement, gladly going wherever you dragged him.

Beside her, Will bent down to mumble in her ear. "What's left of them, anyway."

"Heard that!"

Ever since you found out about the annual trip to the wall, you hadn't stopped talking about it. Every meal, every break between training exercises, every night before bed. Everyone needed an escape from training at this point and you especially were almost vibrating with the anticipation of seeing your home – your old home – even if it was just from afar. 

Only half of your class had boarded the shuttle by the time it kicked into gear and began sputtering down the tracks. Al hopped on ahead of you, nearly tripping and missing the door entirely. He swung his arm back down to hoist you up into the emptied cargo bay with one effortless tug, making sure you were steady on your feet before reaching back down for Tris and the others.

As the rest of the trainees jogged beside the moving train car,  you crossed the grated floor and stuck your head out of the open window, watching eagerly as the crumbling city disappeared and fields of tall wheatgrass overtook your vision.

The smells of Amity grew stronger the closer you approached the tall fence of steel and stone. Ripe citrus and barley hay. If you closed your eyes, you could imagine yourself on the back of a horse, galloping through one of the open pastures instead of clinging to the walls of a fifty-ton iron machine. 

Damn, you missed horses. You missed freedom. 

You'd forgotten just how close the two territories truly were. You always felt so isolated when all you could see ahead of you was farmland. Even in Dauntless the rest of Chicago felt eons away when you spent every moment of every day holed up in that dark underground facility.

When the rusted breaks began squealing under your feet, you were the very first one to scale the distance between the train and the dry grassy hills below — ignoring Four's calls for you to wait up for everyone else in your group. 

He seemed put off by your presence ever since he first read your name from the roster that morning. He seemed defeated; bitter. You tried, but you couldn't wrack your brain for anything you might have done to make him mad at you. Besides your below-average rank on the scoreboard, of course.

You formed the head of the loose single-file line that measured the length of the rickety staircase running up the side of the wall. With each step, you pulled yourself closer and closer to the very top.