XIII

"Some of them want to use you

Some of them want to get used by you

Some of them want to abuse you

Some of them want to be abused"

"Sweet Dreams (Are Made of These)" - The Eurythmics

The morning of the mental training was beginning; no more fighting, no more guns, no more throwing knives, no more physical defense. The beginning of the harder training begun, the mental fighting and mental defense. Harper lied on her back on the bed that morning, wondering if her mind might give away things to Eric, if he even showed up to see the events. He hadn't been around since the night they were on the fence, as if he tried to consistently keep his distance anytime they got too close to one another, for her sake or his, she wasn't too sure. Either way, her training was coming to an end soon, it would only be about two more weeks before the final test, and she would finally be Dauntless.

Another reason she was glad Eric kept away, was that she knew her cheeks would flush crimson if she saw him after the dream she had. It was so vivid and real, she had truly thought it was happening before she was woken up; while it was slightly embarrassing, she held on to the memories of it. There was not a doubt in her mind that the dream was telling her something, telling her what she wanted, even if she knew it all along. But allowing such things to happen in real life would deter her mind from what was most important for the time being, and that was the mental training.

Carson, her hair perfect as always, wearing tight black leggings with leather stitched in, walked over to where all the initiates were seated. Her white tank top fit snug around her muscular body, and she stood at the doorway. The waiting room was small, ten seats on either wall, facing the other side, and that was where all the initiates sat, patiently or nervously waiting for this to start. Carson glanced around and then nodded, happy with her training of these people. 

"You all have done really well, better than some I've trained in the past. With that said, you haven't yet seen the hardest part. Today, you will face your fears in a simulation. Yes, every single fear."

A hum of chatter and worry filled the room.

Carson raised her hand and everyone stopped, but some kids were now shaking their feet nervously, or biting down their already stubby nails. "You have two weeks to prepare, and you can come here anytime you want to. You're going to be in the simulation for a while, no one has done it in less than fifteen minutes yet. It is going to seem like longer in your mind, of course. The first time is the worst, so brace yourselves."

This was the part of training that Harper couldn't prepare herself for when she was in Erudite. She knew that this mental training was about facing your fears; she had no idea how many she had, or if certain ones would show up. How could she face certain fears that were not physical? It didn't sit right with her, and then Carson began to call people in. She started with the people sitting closest to the door, and moved around one at a time. Each initiate that came out looked pale, sickly. Some were muttering under their breath, and very few came out looking stern, as if they had seen all their fears and were already challenging themselves to overcome them.

Harper only hoped she would look like that too.

"Harper," Carson nodded, "you're up."

Nervous as she had ever been, a knot in her stomach that felt as though it would never go away latched onto her nervous system. Her steps didn't seem to leave the ground, and she semi-shuffled over to the door. Walking into the small room with only wheel-around tray with a simulation gun and a chair with straps, Harper felt as though she was going to be tortured. In fact, to some factions, this would be seen as a form of torture. Strapping someone down and forcing them to face every single one of their fears. 

Carson strapped Harper in, and then loaded the serum into the gun, replacing the needle with a fresh one. "I'm curious to see how you respond to this."

Harper flashed her a half smile, the one that suggested she was not actually smiling at all. "Yeah, me too."

"I think you'll do fine." she admitted. "Deep breath."

Harper inhaled as the needle was stabbed into her neck, and the bright serum was injected into her.

Without anything changing and yet everything changing all at once, Harper was no longer seated in the chair, but instead she was surrounded by blackness. Noises were all around her, though, she could hear chatter, trains rolling by, glass shattering, and she realized that she was blind. Without her eyesight, she couldn't be Dauntless, she couldn't fight for the factions. She couldn't help without her eyesight, but she realized that she was not actually blind. Her hands felt her face, and she could feel fabric wrapped around her eyes. She tugged at it, realizing how tight it was tied, and took a deep breath. 

Focusing on the things around her, she listened to the words that were being said. People were discussing politics in the faction, and she could hear Jeanine Matthews talking. She was glad Eric wasn't there, because it was Jeanine that she was scared of. She heard the clatter of metal upon metal, and wondered where she was. All she could think of was that she was in the training gymnasium of Dauntless, and she knew where everything was in there. Crossing over to the far end, she could hear the whooshing of knives, and she grabbed hold of one that was probably neatly laid out. Using the knife, she cut the fabric from around her eyes and she could see at last.

But she was not in the gym anymore, she was in the river at the bottom of the pit. It roared, the white froth of the angry water louder than anything Harper had ever heard before. Large waves crashed over her head and pushed her underneath the water, her entire body thrashing under the strength of the river. She was not match for its force, and the rocks underneath the water were jagged, every time she hit one it sliced her open and she lost blood. It flowed with her, the red staining the pristine waters. 

When she surfaced again, she gasped for air, and looked around at everything, looking for anything to help get her out of these waters. When she spotted the sharp rock that was small enough at the top for her to get a rope overtop of, she quickly tried to undo her belt. The river forced her under again, and she used this to her advantage, holding her breath and finally freeing her body of the belt. There was only a matter of seconds left before the opportunity to get out of the river was gone. Kicking her feet, she forced herself above the water and threw her arms, each hand holding an end of the leather belt, and wrapped it around the top of the rock. The current continued to pull her, but she had a good enough grip to hold herself there for a minute. As the river fought her, water rushing over her head and into her mouth, burning her throat and lungs, she pulled herself onto the rock. It dug into her skin and peeled back flesh, but she was able to get on top of the rock, and was free of the river.

She was free, but only from the river. 

All around her buildings were burning, people were screaming in sheer terror, so loud that it hurt her ears. She watched as people ran around, some of them on fire. She watched as people got shot down, and there was no reason for any of it. There was nothing she could do to stop it; but she had to stop it in order to move on in the simulation. Everything was out of control, and so she had to find the control and cease this slaughter. In her head, she knew that it was some sort of genocide, but the place was one she was not at all familiar with. Tall buildings, all white and glass, flames coming out of the windows. There was only one building that was in pristine condition, and she knew that was where the chaos was coming from. 

Running through the streets while people shot at her, threw Molotov cocktails, shouted derogatory things in her direction. None of it touched her, as she darted through alleys and jumped over corpses. Fighting back tears and even the urge to vomit, she made her way through the labyrinth of a city, until she reached that perfect building. The elevator was broken, and so she took to the stairs, where there was hardly any lighting. It flickered and some bulbs burst as she neared them, showering her in thin glass shards. 

By the time she made it to the top floor, some part of her knowing that this was the floor to be on, she burst into the room, wielding a gun she had strapped on her back. There were a handful of people controlling the fires, the chaos down below. She had to think; what was the bravest thing to do? Kill everyone? Talk to them? Unplug the computers?

She was at a stand-still, and people noticed her now. They came towards her, eyes black as if they were being controlled as well, but it just symbolized the evil inside of them. Every single one of them looked identical to the next, except the one; taller than everyone, wearing different clothing, a different expression. He was the leader and Harper knew that she had to kill him to stop everyone else. But the minute she realized this, the others came at her, lunging at her to stop her, and she couldn't move fast at all, like she was stuck in molasses. 

She ended up having to fire shots into three of the drone-like people before she got to the leader. When she was up close, there was a look in his green eyes that she recognized, a smirk on his lips she would recognize anywhere. It was some strange form of Eric, and she wondered if it was her mind trying to prevent anyone from discovering that Eric's plan was one of her fears. She brought the gun to his forehead and pulled the trigger.

The next thing she knew, she was strapped down on a chair not unlike the simulation chair used for tests and other things. The leather squeaked under her movement, and her eyes adjusted to the bright lighting of the surroundings. At first she thought that she was back in Dauntless, the test over already, but when she realized that there was a whirring noise in the background, her heart began to hammer in her chest. A man dressed in all black, a shadow always seeming to cover his face, stepped into view. He had a small piece of metal in his hands, like a tiny knife. 

Glimmering in the light above, it looked ominous. When he brought it to Harper's hand, she writhed, trying to get away, knowing that he was about to dig it underneath her nails. She screamed in pain as he started with her pinky nail, the metal sliding between the nail and her flesh, prying the nail until it almost came off. The pain was incomprehensible and all she could do is scream and cry. He pulled back, and disappeared from sight; the metal still hung from under her nail, blood dripping off of the end of her finger. Wriggling her hand as hard as she could, she freed left hand from the bounds, and pulled the metal from under her finger of her right hand. Whimpering in pain, she tried to focus on freeing herself. She unlatched the other hand and then her feet, just in time as the man in black returned. He had a drill, and she didn't want to wait around to see what he might do with it. She used the tiny knife-like device that was covered in her own blood and brought it into his eye, then grabbed hold of the drill, turning it to face him and shoving it against his abdomen.

Before he died, Harper watched as he changed; his clothes turned white and blue, his hair turned a soft dirty blonde, and the shadow disappeared. Standing before her was her father, blood dripping from his stomach, his eye destroyed from where she had stabbed him. This was not the death that had received in real life, but she watched as the things she did killed him in this simulation. She threw the drill aside and lowered her father to the ground, the same house she grew up in, the same house he died in. He reached his hand up and touched her wet cheek, "Harper... you were the one."

"I'm sorry... Dad, I'm so sorry." She wasn't sure why she was apologizing.

"You've... you've failed me."

"No..." She shook her head, the tears sliding down her cheeks. He was dead, and she remembered what it was that she had to do to avenge her father. She knew that she had to stop the slaughter of Abnegation, and she sat there in her father's blood, stone cold and filled with an anger that could not be satisfied easily. She knew what she had to do, but that itself was her biggest fear now. Avenging her father, it terrified her.