Fractured | Tobias Eaton ✓

39 | I Miss You

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.