Flower Child

Chapter Eighteen

   I sit there for hours. Long after all the families have left and the pit is only full of rowdy Dauntless. I even skip dinner because I don't know if I can keep the tears from my eyes long enough to talk to any of my friends. I only get up when I'm ready to go lay down and never wake up again.
   When I walk into the dorm, Four is there with a chalk board leaning against his legs, our ranks. There is a crowd around him and I stand at the back of it. The last few people walk in and he begins to talk.
   "For those of you who just came in, I'm explaining how the ranks are determined," he says, "after the first round of fights we ranked you according to your skill level. The number of points you earn depends on your skill level and the skill level of the person you beat. You earn more points for improving and more points for beating someone of a high skill level. I don't reward preying on the weak. That is cowardice."
   His eyes seem to linger on Peter for a small moment. 
   "If you have a high rank, you loose points for loosing to a low ranked person."
   I don't look at him as he continues talking, "stage two of training is weighted more heavily than stage one, because it is more closely tied to overcoming cowardice. That said, it is extremely difficult rank high at the end of initiation if you rank low in stage one."
   My eyes move to the three people that I know that sentence is aimed at, Al, Tris, and Myra.
   "We will announce the cuts tomorrow," Four continues, "the fact that you are transfers and the Dauntless-born initiates are not will not be taken into consideration. Four of you could be factionless and none of them. Or four of them could be factionless and none of you. Or any combination thereof. That said, here are your ranks."
   He hangs the board up and steps away so we can see it.
   1. Edward
   2. Peter
   3. Mor
   Third is good, especially considering the look Peter is giving Edward right now. I'd rather let him stay above me than have him look at me like that.
   4. Will
   5. Christina
   6. Molly
   7. Tris
   8. Drew
   9. Al
   10. Myra
   The room is silent for a moment as we all take it in. For the most part, the ranks aren't surprising but I bet a lot of us were hoping for different results.
   "What," Molly shouts and points at Chris, "I beat her! I beat her in minutes! And she's ranked above me?"
   "Yeah?" Chris wears a smug smile. "And?"
   "If you intended to secure yourself a high rank, I suggest you don't make a habit of loosing to low ranked opponents," Four snaps at her.
   He walks out of the room and I want to curse at him for putting Tris in that spot. But no, he has to remind Molly that Tris is the reason her rank is lower.
   "You," Molly growls lowly at Tris.
   I step in front of Tris, "stow it, Molly."
   She sneers at me and I glare her down. She looks around me at Tris and her eyes lit in rage.
   "You are going to pay for this," Molly growls.
   I expect her to lunge around me but she turns on her heel and leaves the room.
   "I don't need you to protect me," Tris says lowly, almost like she was angry at me.
   I don't look at her, "I know you don't, but I protect my friends, and whether you like it or not Tris, you are my friend."
   I stalk out of the room, holding tight to the bracelet in my hand.

   I can't sleep. At the moment, I'm just laying on my bed, staring at the bunk above me which holds Will. It seems so quiet in here, even with all the breathing. It lets me think about my mother, my father. I hid the bracelet in a small pocket on my boot so that no one would take it from me. It's the only thing I have of her. And now I have something of my father as well. Tori had finished my tattoo earlier and I couldn't be happier about how it turned out.
   Something shuffles across the room and I look towards it. My eyes can't see anything but darkness. A shoe squeaks on the ground and then a loud thud.
   And then the most blood curdling wail I've ever heard. I throw my blankets off my body and stand up. I can't see anything except a dark figure on the floor. Another scream wrenches from the person.
   "Turn on the lights," someone yells.
   I make my way towards the figure in the pitch black. Whoever it is is in serious pain. A scream like that comes from the pit of the stomach and is only released by blood and bone.
   The lights flicker on and Edward is laying on the floor next to his bunk holding his face. He lays in a pool of his own blood and jutting our between his fingers is the metal handle of a butter knife from the dining hall.
   Myra who is next to Edward screams and so does someone I can't see. Someone else yells for help. I fall to my knees next to him.
   "Edward, lie still," I say calmly, he thrashes again and I put my hands on his shoulders, "you gotta lie still, Edward."
   "My eye," he screeches, someone vomits, "take it out! Get it out, get it out of me, get it out!"
   I shake my head, "no. You got to let the doctor take it out. That knife is the only thing keeping you from bleeding out."
   "It hurts," he sobs.
   I have to take a steadying breath, "I know it does. I know. You'll be okay. Just a little longer, you'll be okay."
   I lay his head on my lap, petting his hair as I reassure him over and over again. It'll be alright, no it probably won't be. You're gonna be ok, hopefully but not likely.
   The nurse arrives and she tells me to step back. I do. My hands and legs are covered in his blood. I look around the room and see two faces missing, Drew, and Peter. My blood boils.

   I grabbed a change of clothes and went to the bathroom to shower. I let the steaming water roll over me, washing Edward's blood off me. When I'm clean, physically, not quite mentally, I change into my new shorts and put on one of my sweaters, my clothes that I had been wearing are now in the trash.
   I grab as many paper towels as I can and walk back to the dorm. When I get there, I see Tris is already cleaning up the blood so I kneel down next to her and start to scrub. We don't talk, Chris takes the dirty rags and brings us new ones until it is all gone.
   No one sleeps that night.

We have the next day off and I almost wish we didn't. Now, I am sitting alone in the training room. I can't tell if I want to punch everything near me or cry because of how horrific last night was.
Punching sounds nice. I know for a fact it was Peter, everyone does, but is something thing going to be done about? No. Not with people like Eric in charge.
I begin to beat the crap out of a punching bag, imagining that it's Peter. I wish I would have been like Tris in my fight, I wish I would have broken more than just his big nose. Maybe his arm, maybe even his damn neck.

When I go back to the dorm that day, Edward and Myra's bunks are stripped and their drawers are open and empty.
I'm not even in the room for more than a second before I'm turning around and walking back out. As I walk down the halls of Dauntless I can't get the nagging feeling away that Peter will be waiting around a dark corner with a butter knife.