Venus Eaton is desperate to escape the abuse of her previous faction although she is unaware and unprepared of the ordeals of Dauntless initiation. She is a stranger to her own brother until he accuses her of murdering their mother, and finds out th...
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VENUS
TWO WEEKS later, and nothing has changed. I haven't seen Eric since, and Emily and Harmonie visit every so often. Emily has a job on the fence so she can see her previous faction and Harmonie is a badass tattoo artist.
She has dumped the pretty white hair bows for gothic dark ones and dyed red strips in her hair. Since she works in the tattoo department, she uses her arms and legs for practice. She has a sleeve of cute drawings (that also look pretty dark and brooding at some angles) on her arm and she managed to bring the tattoo pen and some ink to Tobias's apartment, and tattooed a rose on the inside of her arm, before spilling some of the black tattoo ink over my brother's carpet! There is something about her that screams Dauntless more than anyone else.
Tobias is continuing to search through protected and unprotected files during his shifts. He found the exact date and time (two and something months from now, lucky me), and where they'll be controlling the Dauntless from (somewhere in the Dauntless compound).
As the date of war looms closer, it only brings swirling anxiety to my stomach. I sit on the couch, reading a pretty old classic, when I feel the sudden urge to throw up. Dizziness overwhelms me, tipping everything to the side, and my stomach lurches drastically.
I cover my mouth and race to the bathroom, reaching it just in time to retch into the toilet. Just when I think it's all over, I throw up again, just as the front door opens.
"Venus?" My brother calls. I make a small noise of attendance in the back of my throat before throwing up again, clutching my stomach. Tobias races inside and tucks my hair behind my ear.
"You alright?" He says, bringing me some tissue to wipe my mouth with.
"Mhm," I croak and sit back. The sour taste of sickness scrapes against the back of my throat. "It's disgusting. Don't look." I say, flushing the chain. I sit back against the sink, letting the coolness sink into the back of my head.
"What was that about?" He asks. I open one eye to look at him.
"Probably just stress," I say. "From the approaching war. Pretending to be brainwashed and trying to hide my identity in the meanwhile."
"Plus, I haven't touched the outside air in, like, a week!" I groan, rubbing my eyes. My hands are shaking a little. I feel the urge to vomit again, but I swallow it back down.
"If you say so," Tobias says, and helps me up. He doesn't seem convinced.
And he was right to be unconvinced. The next day, I woke up at 9am to a roaring ache in my stomach, and I threw up again. And the day after that. And the day after that.
I thought maybe, maybe it's just a bug and it'll clear up. I thought I was lucky, since it died down for a day or two. Then, out of nowhere, the urge to be sick came back again and that time, I couldn't reach the toilet in time.
