The Selfless and the Brave

I woke with a start from my nightmare. I sat bolt upright in my bed, sweating and panting. I groaned internally and put my head in my hands. I have been having the same nightmare for a couple years now. Every night. I just couldn't get Tom out of my head.

I shook my head violently to get the memory out. I wasn't allowed to think of him. I wasn't allowed to mention him. What he did was selfish and very against the Abnegation rules. He used to be the perfect little Abnegation boy, now he was nothing. He was a disgrace.

He was my brother, and I missed him.

I got out of bed and checked the time. It was 5 in the morning. I sighed to myself, knowing I was not going to be able to go back to sleep. I slipped into my bathroom to assess the wounds I had acquired yesterday.

I took off my clothes and looked down at my body. A variety of cuts and bruises littered my stomach, legs and arms. I poked one of the especially nasty ones near my ribs, and winced. Something was broken, for sure. And that wasn't Matt's doing.

I wanted to see why my face was throbbing so badly, so I cracked open the bathroom door slightly to make sure my parents weren't awake yet before shutting it again. I made my way to the small covered mirror that we were only allowed to use on very rare occasions. If I was caught, I knew I would have the shit beat out of me.

I lifted the cover of the small mirror and looked at myself. The whole left side of my face was bruised from my father's punches. A few of the lashes from the belt had hit up my neck and onto my right cheek, leaving deep red marks. I gasped at my own reflection, I didn't think it was that bad.

As I turned to check on the lashes on my back, I saw someone else in the mirror. I spun around, replacing the cover of the mirror and facing my father.

But it was too late.

"What do you think you're doing, Alex?!" my father shouted. I didn't reply. "You know you can't look into mirrors!" He continued to yell, getting close to my face.

"Answer me!"

I didn't.

He smacked me hard across the face, causing my head to hit the mirror, cracking it, and I slid down the wall.

"Be at the breakfast table in ten minutes," my father growled. I nodded quickly and he left. I grabbed onto the side of the sink and hauled myself up before showering quickly and getting dressed in gray once again.

I walked quickly to the breakfast table to see two smiling parents, my father reading a newspaper, as if nothing had happened.

"Good morning son!" my father said. "Make sure your not late for school now." he continued, smiling. I gave him a wary look. Just ten minutes ago he was kicking my ass. Also, it's 5:30 in the morning. School starts at eight.

This is probably what I hate most about my parents. They act like everything is completely fine and normal when in reality, they are abusive pricks.

I grab a granola bar and leave. grabbing my backpack as I go.

I'm taking the two hour walk to school today.

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I finally arrived at school at around seven thirty, as I had expected. I sat in my usual spot, and opened my lyric notebook. I began writing.

Manage me, I'm a mess
Turn a page, I'm a book
Half unread

I wanna be laughed at
Laughed with, just because

I wanna feel weightless
And that should be enough

But I'm stuck in this fucking rut
Waiting on a second hand pick me up
And I'm over, getting older...

I stopped writing as I heard the rumble of the Dauntless train. I shut my notebook and looked up to watch them fall like little black beetles from the open door. I saw Matt jump out, but without Jack. I furrowed my brows in confusion. Matt and Jack were inseparable. At the last second, Jack jumped out, landing on the very edge of the roof. They all scaled down the building as usual, and I knew the bell would ring soon, seeing as the Dauntless always get here five minutes before the bell. I gathered my things and headed towards the school.

Unfortunately, a lot of eyes seemed to be glued on me. My face was a mess, and they all know Matt didn't do that much damage. He had mostly stuck with kicking me in the ribs.

"What happened to his face?"

"Didn't you hear? The stupid Stiff got the shit beat out of him by Matt Flyzik."

"Yeah, but I was there. I didn't see him get hit in the face."

"And what about those red marks?"

It went on and on. I tried my best to block it all out, but everyone just kept staring at me and whispering.

I kept my head down the whole day.

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Before I knew it, it was lunchtime. I tried to ignore the shocked face of the lunch lady as I put in my number to get lunch. I guess my dad beat me pretty bad, I thought. It's not the worst I've had though.

I got my food and began the usual search of where to sit. I finally found an empty table and sat down, staring at my usual lunch of bland bread and a single apple. I began picking at my bread when someone plopped down beside me, causing the table to quake.

I began to shake, thinking it was Matt and his friends again, coming back for round two. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see them, as the shaking got worse. Soon I was going to have a full blown panic attack.

"Hey dude, you alright?" I opened my eyes in surprise, now staring at my bread once again. I recognized that voice... but why would he sit with me?

I slowly turned my head to my right to finally see who had sat next to me. And there he was, Jack Barakat, chewing on a rather large mouthful of hamburger and staring at me intently.

"I said, are you alright man?" he said around his mouthful of food, looking into my eyes. I saw concern flash through his eyes as he saw my injuries. His jaw popped open and he slowly set his sandwich back onto his plate. I ducked my head once more.

"Holy fuck, dude," Jack whispered after swallowing his food. "Matt didn't do that much damage. What happened to you?" I shook my head before digging out my notebook and writing, Nothing, I'm fine.

Jack read what I had wrote and stared at me. "Bullshit." He said simply. "Come on, let's go to the bathroom." he said, getting up. I hesitantly got up from my seat, leaving my food where it was. I'm not hungry.

I struggled to keep up with Jack's long strides, and it was then when I noticed pretty much every eye in the lunch room on us. My steps faltered, and Jack looked back at me. I stopped walking and stared down at my feet.

"Alex, what's up?" he asked, ducking down to my height, trying make eye contact.

'How long have they been staring?' I wrote.

Jack looked up for a second to glare at the people staring, then sighed. "Since I sat next to you. Now c'mon," he said, grabbing me by my arm and pulling me out of the lunchroom. I winced slightly. My dad had grabbed me by that arm last night.

We finally got into the bathroom and Jack let go of my arm. He turned to face me, and I looked up at him, rubbing my arm.

"Take off your shirt," he said.

I looked him with wide eyes.

"Forget all the Abnegation modesty crap for half a second and take off your damn shirt, Alex!" Jack shouted. He calmed a bit before adding, "I just want to make sure your okay."

I nodded hesitantly before peeling off my gray Abnegation top. I heard Jack gasp as he saw the bruises on my ribs and stomach. I looked down, ashamed, but he stepped forward and lifted my head up by the chin. Our eyes locked before his eyes wandered to the injuries on my face and neck. He brought his hand up to touch the couple whip marks that had snaked up my neck, his eyes widening even more. He turned me slowly until I was facing the wall and he was staring at my back.

"Holy shit," he muttered, lightly tracing the dozens of red marks on my back. "Holy shit, Alex."

He turned me back around. I looked up at him, seeing his concerned eyes, then looked back down. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling tears threatening to escape. Finally, a couple fell from my eyes and down my cheeks. Jack pulled my head up again, before pulling me into a hug, which I accepted and began to cry silently.

"Holy shit," he whispered once again.

Notes

Holy shit guys.

Super long chapter.

Shit went down.

Sorry it's been so long.

Shit's going down in my life as well.

Don't forget to comment!

-Jagk Skellington