Chapter 24 Chapter 24: The Floating Corpse in the Canyon

"Tracey." In the dream, my mother called my name.She beckoned to me and I went into the kitchen and stood beside her.She pointed to the pot on the stove, and I picked up the lid and took a look inside. The crow's bulging eyes were staring at me, the feathers on its wings stuck to the side of the pot, and its fat body was soaked in boiling water. "Our dinner," she said. "Tracey!" I heard someone shout again, and when I opened my eyes, Christina was standing by the bed, with tear stains stained black by mascara on her face. "It's Al," she said. "Go and see."

Some freshmen are already awake, some are still asleep.Christina grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the dorm.I ran barefoot on the stony ground, my eyes blinking dimly, my limbs heavy and sleepy.Something terrible must have happened, I could feel it in the beating of my heart.Something happened to Al. We bolted all the way through the base pit, and then Christina stopped.A group of people gathered around the ledge, but everyone was a meter or two apart, so I had enough room to squeeze past Christina, bypass a tall middle-aged man, and get to the front. Two men were standing on the edge of the ledge, and they were pulling something up with a rope. They both groaned and exerted their strength, leaning back and using their whole body weight, the rope slipped from the railing little by little. Come here, then go backwards and grab the next piece of rope.A large black object appeared on the ledge, and several Intrepids ran to help drag "it" up.

The thing hit the ground with a "bang".The pale arm, swollen from the blisters, plopped down on the stone.It's a corpse.Christina grabbed my hand, clung to me, buried her head in my shoulder and began to cry, but I couldn't look away.Several people turned the body over, and his head flopped to one side. The eyes were wide open, but hollow, dull, like the eyes of a doll.There is a protrusion in the nasal bone, a narrow nose bridge, and a round nose.Lips are blue.The whole face no longer looks like a human, but looks like a half-corpse and half-animal.I feel my chest burning and I almost miss my next breath: it's really Al.

"It's a freshman," said someone behind him, "what's the matter?" "It happens every year," said another. "He jumped off the ledge into the Grand Canyon." "Don't say it so scary, it might just be an accident." "His body was found in the middle of the Grand Canyon. Do you think he tripped over his own shoelaces...Ah, he just fell four or five meters away?" Christina grabbed my arm, tighter and tighter.I should tell her to let go of me because it hurts.Someone knelt beside Al's face and closed his eyes.To make it look like he was asleep, maybe.How stupid.Why do people like to lie to themselves: to die is to fall asleep?Not so, not at all.

Something broke inside of me.My chest tightened and I began to feel out of breath, my legs gave way and I fell to the ground, pulling Christina to the ground as well.The stone under my knees is uneven, but I'm already numb.I heard something, like a voice from memory: Al sobbing, and every night he screamed in his nightmares... I should have known.Still can't breathe.I pressed my hands on my chest and rocked back and forth, trying to release the pressure from my chest. In the blink of an eye, I saw him carrying me to the restaurant again. I also saw the top of his head, and I still remember the bumpy feeling on his back.He was so tall, so warm, and awkward at the same time.No, that was already in the past.This is death, and it turns "is" into "was."

I was wheezing and wheezing.Someone brought a big black bag and was going to put the body in it.But I always feel that the bag is too small.A smile welled up in his throat, and his lips trembled because he was suppressing the laugh.The body bag won't fit, Al is too big.What a tragedy!In the middle of laughing, I quickly covered my mouth, the sound sounded more like whimpering.I freed Christina's hand and stood up, leaving her on the ground alone.I ran away. "You're here." Tori said, and handed me a steaming cup that smelled faintly of mint.I held the cup in both hands, my fingers tingling from the sudden warmth.

She sat down across from me.When it comes to funerals, the Dauntless don't like wasting time.Once death happens, Tori says, the Dauntless accept it instantly.There was no one in the room in front of the tattoo parlor, but the base pit was full of people, most of them drunk.I don't know why I was so surprised. A funeral is a sad time at home.Everyone gathered together to express condolences and encouragement to the family of the deceased, and no one was idle.But there was no laughter, no noise, and no jokes.And the selfless don't drink at all, so everyone is sober at the funeral.Everything here is completely opposite, and there may be a reason for it.

"Drink it, it'll make you feel better, I promise," Tori said. "Drinking tea is not an option either." I said slowly.But I took a sip anyway.The tea entered my mouth, warmed my mouth and throat, and flowed warmly into my stomach.I was totally unaware of how cold I was until I got warmer. "I said 'better', not 'very good'." She looked at me with a smile, but the fine lines of smiles in the corners of her eyes did not disappear, "I think the feeling of 'very good' will not last for a while came back." I bit my lip. "How long..." I racked my brains for the right words, "After your brother was like... how long did it take you to feel better?"

"I don't know." She shook her head and said, "Sometimes I feel like I haven't passed this hurdle, but sometimes I feel okay, sometimes I'm even happy. But it took me several years to get rid of the idea of ​​planning revenge." "Why did you dismiss that idea?" I asked. She stared at the wall behind me, her eyes suddenly blank, her fingers kept tapping her knees, and it took a while before she said, "I don't think it's a reluctance... More like, waiting for the right opportunity to strike. " She recovered from her gaze and looked down at her watch.

"Time to go," she said. I poured the leftover tea down the sink.I took my hand off the glass and realized it was shaking so badly.This is not good.Usually, my hands shake when I'm about to cry.But I can't cry in front of so many people. I followed Tori out of the tattoo parlor, down the path, and toward the base pit.Those who had wandered around earlier were all gathered around the ledge.There was a strong smell of alcohol in the air.The woman in front of me staggered to the right, lost her balance, and fell on top of a man next to her, followed by a burst of giggling.Tori grabbed my arm and dragged me away.

I spotted Uriah, Will, and Christina standing among a group of freshmen.Christina's eyes were swollen from crying, Uriah grabbed a silver wine bottle, saw me coming, and gave it to me, I shook my head. "Accident, what an accident," Molly said behind her, and nudged Pete. "A zombie for a day, a zombie for life." I should ignore her, what someone like her says doesn't matter to me. "I came across an interesting article today," she whispered into my ear, "about your dad and the real reason why you left the Selfless." I know in my heart that defending my dignity is not the most important thing today.But it's the easiest to deal with. I turned around and punched her in the jaw, making my knuckles sting from the impact.As for how I made up my mind to beat her and when I clenched my fists, I don't remember all of them. Molly pounced on me angrily, reaching out her hands, but before he could reach far, Will grabbed her by the neck and pulled her back.He glared at her, then looked at me, and shouted: "You two, stop me!" I kind of wish Will didn't stop her.A good fight is a great distraction, especially now that Eric has climbed onto the ledge next to the metal railing, and I'm facing him, arms folded, calmed down.I want to see what he has to say. In Disinterested, no one in recent years has memory of suicide.But the disinterested party's stance on suicide is clear: for them, suicide is a selfish act.Truly selfless people don't often think about themselves, or even consider suicide.Even if there is such a situation, no one will go around talking about it, but every selfless person will reflect. "Everyone be quiet!" Eric yelled.Someone knocked something like a gong, and the shouting and shouting gradually subsided, but the whispering sound continued.Eric said, "Thank you all for coming. As you know, we're here because Albert, a freshman, jumped into the canyon last night." The whispering sound stopped, only the sound of rushing water in the canyon remained. "We don't know why he chose to die. It's easy to mourn his death tonight, but we didn't choose an easy life when we chose Dauntless. Actually..." Eric smiled.If I didn't know him, I would have thought that smile was sincere.But I know him as a person. "In fact, Albert is continuing his quest in an unknown, uncertain place. To get there, he has plunged into the waters of evil. Who among us has the guts to venture into The dark place of ignorance? Albert is not yet a full member of us, but dare I say, he is the bravest of us." There was a sudden yell and a shout from the crowd.The Dauntless crowd began to cheer loudly, the voices were high and low, loud and deep.The sound simulated the roar of water.Christina snatched the bottle from Uriah and drank it, and Will put his hand on her shoulder and held her by his side.All that came back and forth in my ears were sounds. "Now we're going to celebrate him and remember him forever!" Eric yelled.Someone handed him a black wine bottle, which he then raised and shouted, "To the brave Albert." "To Albert!" the crowd chanted.In an instant, countless hands were raised around me, and shouts rang out in my ears. "Albert! Albert! Al-Bert! A-B-T!" They kept chanting his name until it sounded out of tune from his own. The name is more like the most primitive cry of an ancient tribe. I turned away from the railing, unable to bear it any longer. I don't know where to go, and I suspect that I don't want to go anywhere at all, just to get away from that fake funeral.I walked down a dark passageway that ended in a water dispenser, bathed in blue light above. I shake my head.Brave?The brave will admit their weaknesses and leave the Dauntless, no matter what shame comes with them.Al was killed by pride!That's the flaw that exists in every fearless heart.Also my shortcoming. "Tracey." I shivered in fright and turned around in a hurry.The fourth child stood behind me, in the halo of the blue light.It made him look eerie, with the blue light casting shadows in the sockets of his eyes and casting a small shadow under his cheekbones.It looks scary. "What are you doing here?" I asked. "Shouldn't you be paying homage to Al?" I say this as if I had eaten something bad and had to spit it out quickly. "Shouldn't you go too?" He leaned closer and I saw his eyes again, they looked black in the light. "Why pay homage when you don't have homage?" I said this, and I felt a pang of guilt, so I shook my head, "That's not what I meant." "Ah." Judging from his expression, I knew he definitely didn't believe it.I don't blame him. "That's ridiculous!" I said, a wave of heat rushing into my face. "He jumped off the ledge by himself, and Eric called it brave. Eric, he made you fall on Al's head." A throwing knife." A bitter taste of bile came out of my mouth.Eric's phony smile, his hypocrisy, his twisted thoughts -- made me sick. "He's not brave! He's frustrated, he's a coward, he almost killed me! Is that what we're trying to pay homage to here?" "What else do you want them to do?" he asked rhetorically. "Condemn him? Al's dead, he can't hear, and it's too late." "Nothing to do with Al!" I yelled. "Everyone is watching! Now everyone thinks jumping into the canyon is a good choice. I mean, if everyone calls you a hero after the fact, why don't you just jump?" ? If everyone remembers your name afterwards, why not dance? It's... I can't..." I shook my head, my face was hot, my heart was pounding, I tried to control my emotions but couldn't. "That will never happen to the Selfless!" I almost growl. "None. Never. This place twisted him, ruined him. If saying that makes me look like a zombie, I don't care, I really don't care, it doesn't matter!" The fourth child looked at the wall above the automatic water dispenser. "Be careful, Triss." His eyes were still there. "Is that what you were going to say?" I glared at him and said angrily, "Tell me to be careful, is that all?" "You're as bad as the honest guys, you know?" He grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the water cooler.My arm hurts from his hand, and I'm not strong enough to break free. His face was so close to mine that I could even see a few freckles on the tip of his nose. "Listen, I don't want to say it again." He put his hands on my shoulders, his fingers squeezed and held me tightly, and I felt so small. "They're watching you, especially you." "Let go of me." I said weakly. He let go and straightened his body.Since he no longer touches my body, the big stone in my chest is also released.I am very afraid of his changeable emotions, which let me see the instability in his heart, and instability means danger. "Then will they also monitor you?" My voice was so low that if he wasn't so close, he probably wouldn't have heard what I was saying. He didn't answer my question directly: "I've been helping you, but you keep refusing to help." "Oh yes. You're helping me," I said, "throwing a dagger at my ear, laughing at me, yelling at me, yelling at me more than anyone else, it's doing me a favor .” "Laughing at you? Do you mean when I threw the throwing knife? I didn't laugh at you," he got angry. "I'm just reminding you that if you back down, someone else must take your place." I put my hands on the back of my neck and thought about the "throwing knife incident" that day.Every time he speaks, he is indeed reminding me that if I give up, the person standing in front of the target has to be Al. "Why?" I asked. "Because you're from the selfless faction," he explained. "You're at your bravest when you selflessly help others." It suddenly dawned on me that he was not persuading me to give up, but reminding me not to give up, and that I need to protect Al.Now, the thought hurts my heart.Protect Al - my former friend and my attacker. I can't hate Al as much as I want to. But I can't forgive him either. "If I were you, I would pretend that the urge to be selfless is gone. Because if someone with ulterior motives finds out...that would be very bad for you," he said. "Why? Why do they care about my characteristics?" "All they care about is who you are. They want you to think that they only care about how you behave, but they don't. They don't want you to act in a certain way, they want you to think in a certain way. That makes sense. Now, that way you won't be a threat to them." He put his hands on the wall, next to my head, and leaned over.His T-shirt was a little tight, just enough to show his collarbone, and the shallow dimple between his biceps and shoulders. Wish I could be taller.If I had been taller, my slender frame would have been described as "slim" instead of "grown up" and he might not have thought of me as a little sister to protect. I don't want to be seen by him as a sister. "I don't understand, as long as I follow their instructions exactly, why should I care what I think?" "You're doing what they tell you now," he said, "but what if your disinterested-constructed mind tells you to do something else, something they don't want you to do?" I didn't know how to respond, or even if he felt right about me.Does the structure of my brain make me more altruistic or fearless? Perhaps, neither.Maybe, I'm more of a Divergent. "I don't need your help, have you ever thought about it?" I said, "I'm not weak, you know. I can do it all by myself." He shook his head: "You think my first reaction is to protect you? Because you are very thin, a girl, and a zombie. But you are wrong." He slowly brought his face closer to mine, pinching my chin with his fingers.His hands smell like metal. When was the last time he held a gun or a knife?Where he touched me, my skin tingled, as if an electric current was passing through his skin. "My first reaction is to push you to the limit, to see when you collapse, and to see how hard I have to force you to collapse." Speaking of the word "crash", he squeezed his fingers hard.The sharp sound made my whole body tense up, curled up like a spring pressed to the limit, and I forgot to breathe. His almost black eyes met me, and he added, "But I held back." "Why..." I swallowed hard, "Why is that your first reaction?" "Fear didn't scare you, but awakened your potential. I saw it with my own eyes, and I found it amazing." He let go of me, but didn't walk away, rubbing my chin and neck with his hand, "Sometimes I just... Want to see again. I want to wake you up." I put my hand on his waist.Can't remember when I decided to do it, but I didn't want to move away.I leaned against his chest, wrapping my arms around him, my fingers lightly brushing the muscles of his back. After a while, he reached out and touched my waist, hugged me, and gently stroked my hair with the other hand.I felt small again, but this time, he didn't scare me.I close my eyes.He never scares me anymore. "Should I cry?" My voice was muffled by his T-shirt. "Is there something wrong with me?" The situational simulations for several days in a row completely broke Al, and he could never recover.Why am I safe and sound?Why am I not like him—why does the thought of it bother me so much?It was as if I myself were precariously standing on a ledge. "Do you think I know more about crying?" he said quietly. I close my eyes again.I didn't expect my fourth to comfort me, nor did he try to.But standing here, it feels so much better than standing outside with my friends, my faction. "If I had forgiven him, do you think he would still be alive now?" "I don't know." He replied, touching my face with his hand.I buried my face in his hands and kept my eyes closed. "It's all my fault." "It's not your fault." He gently pressed his forehead against mine. "But I should have forgiven him, I should have forgiven him." "Maybe. Maybe we can do more," he said, "but all we have to do is let the guilt remind us to do better next time." I couldn't help frowning, and straightened up.That's a lesson for altruists to learn—guilt is a tool, not a weapon against the ego.This quote is taken directly from my father's speech at the weekly meeting. "Which faction are you from, Fourth?" "It's not important." His eyes drooped suddenly. "What's important is that I'm here now. You have to remember this well yourself." He looked at me with contradictory eyes, and gently pressed his lips against my forehead, the kiss fell right between the brows.I don't know what this is, but I don't want to destroy it, so I don't say anything.He didn't move, his lips stayed there, close to my skin, and I just stayed like this, with my arms around his waist, and we stood like this for a long, long time.It seems that the world is old.