Hey guys, this is my first story on and I would appreciate it if you would R&R. Anything found in bold has been taken directly from the book, not including any spelling or grammar mistakes (I am British, I spell it grey not gray, and anything else very British; sorry!)
Disclaimer: I do not own Divergent, I am simply expressing a style of writing.
Hope you enjoy
Chapter One
Like the rest of my Faction, there should only be one mirror in my house. We are not like the others. My mother was from Erudite, my father Amity. My brother transferred to Erudite, like my mother had always wanted; but I think he became Factionless after failing initiation; he never did come back. We never see him now. Anyway, back to the mirrors. On the second day of each third month, we are allowed a few brief seconds with the mirror; vanity is not encouraged. This is the day we get a haircut. I suppose my mother should cut my hair; tradition and all; but as I said, we are not like the others. I swallow down my selflessness and look into the mirror; taking each long strand at a time and snipping right back up to my shoulder, letting the loose curls bounce around their newly-found home. My house has two mirrors, so that my older brother and me could have our hair cut at the same time, when I depended on my parents for everything; my dad would shave all of the hair off of my brother's head, while I would have a neat trim from my long waves, as my mother folded the hair into a neat bun. I am not like the rest of my Faction. I hold my curls above my shoulders, but below my chin; the radiant gold color like the morning sun; my lips are full and pink, my eyes a bright emerald. I have been told that my eyes are the windows to my true soul; rubbish.
"You always know how to make a statement, darling." My mother walks in. She's shorter than me, with platinum blonde hair and blazing blue eyes that make a statement in itself. In return I stiffly nod, we're not supposed to talk back to our parents. This is one of the only rules I follow of Abnegation. "Today is the day, are you ready?" She asks. She already knows my answer, for once, my nervousness proceeds me. "Of course not, I wasn't either, and same with your brother and father." She kisses my forehead, and I immediately relax, letting the smell of pinewood and soap envelope me.
Today is the day of the aptitude test which will decide which of the five factions suits me the best; which one my mind believes I belong. Tomorrow, the Choosing Ceremony; the day I choose my own fate for the rest of my days. Stay with my family in Abnegation, or transfer, the same as my brother from us, and my parents from their families. I think back to the Eaton family, and how both of Marcus' children headed to the same faction; the one nobody seems to talk about or acknowledge; the Dauntless. The Brave.
"Would you hate me if I didn't choose Abnegation? Or if the tests tell me otherwise?" I ask my mother, my voice quiet; hoarse.
"Of course not, sweetie. My family shunned me, and I never want you to feel the same." She kisses my forehead once more and heads to the door, stopping for a moment to cover the mirror with a brown, crisp cloth. "Breakfast is ready when you're ready." She states, her eyes glazing over, as if thinking back to a time in the past. I leave her to go, allowing a small smile to grace my lips before I look down at my watch. It's the only thing each family is allowed one of, as they're seen as practical, and being late for someone who is waiting for you is seen as selfish, so they keep you in line.
It's my turn to make breakfast. My father is sitting at the table already, the plates, cloth and cutlery already set; my mother's treat since it's such a stressful day. I make a small breakfast for myself, and a considerable amount for my parents. They will have to take it today for lunch. No time to make their own lunches. I look over at my father, his hairline is receding and his smile lines are turning more and more into wrinkles across his forehead. Amity; Kindness. Something well treasured here in Abnegation.
School. The lessons today only last until half day, so we can take the tests. I am assuming they do it at school; that's what it seems like when the Initiates leave every year. The bus stinks of exhaust. Every time it hits a patch of uneven pavement, it jostles me from side to side, even though I'm gripping the seat to keep myself still. I look across the bus, to the other side, where the only person I recognize is; Beatrice Prior. I vaguely know her brother, Caleb, but we are mere acquaintances. Me and Beatrice used to be friends, playmates when we were kids. Something long lost. I smile at her, a small nod of the head. A standard greeting in Faction Abnegation. Her brother is quite the looker, something unnoticed by the other Factions; we're usually called Stiffs and thrown to the side. When he was younger, the collection of features on his structured face looked strange, but now it suits him. I turn away from their family, they will always be siblings; always have love. That is something where my family exceeds in failing. Love.
I turn towards the tinted windows, looking out at the city. The gaps between the buildings narrow and the roads are smoother as we near the heart of the city. The building that was once called Sears Tower - we call it the Hub- emerges from the fog, a black pillar in the skyline. The bus passes under the elevated tracks. I look up at the tracks as we pass under, the Dauntless are the only ones known to ride the trains in the City. The tracks are reserved for them to do as they please; something which usually involves them throwing themselves off of the trains to prove their bravery.
The bus draws to a stop outside the school; first stop on its journey through the City. I get up and rush to the side of the Priors. Beatrice stumbles over the man sitting down, Candor's, foot and I give a small chuckle, looking down after her as she exits the bus, still clutching her brother's arm to hold herself steady.
The Upper Levels building is the oldest of the three schools in the city: Lower Levels, Mid-Levels and Upper Levels. Like all the other buildings around it, it is made of glass and steel. In front is a large metal structure that the Dauntless climb after school, daring each other to go higher and higher. I think it's cool, their bravery. I tried to climb the structure once. I may be the only person who's made it to the top. Last year, we watched as a few of them got into a fight at the top, and a few fell down. Only one got hurt. She broke her leg, and Beatrice was the one who ran to get the nurse.
I turn towards Faction History - class one in a shortened day. That's the right hand side of the corridor, left takes you to Math and Science Study. As I walk, one question spirals through my head; the one question on everyone's minds (anyone who's sixteen anyway) - Abnegation, Candor, Erudite, Amity or Dauntless? Only the tests will tell where you truly belong. The hallways in the school are as they always are - cramped and full of body odor. The windows let in little light; setting an illusion of space and despair. This is the only place where the factions all mix and can act friendly with each other; at least, that's what they encourage. I watch as a few of Erudite push Abnegation to the floor; after Erudite started to release antagonistic reports about Abnegation and started to taint our reputation, we've been getting a lot more of that; pushing, dirty looks and foul language. That's the worst part of my day. We're quite recognizable, stand-outs, even. We're always dressed in plain grey clothes, plain and simple hairstyles and cuts and the plain, selfless looks on our faces: Abnegation. It's supposed to make it easier for us to "forget ourselves", but I think that's a whole load of rubbish. It just proves us easier to be spotted in a crowd.
A train whistle blares from outside, the windows and atmosphere seeming to shake with the anticipation of the arrival of the Dauntless-born. They hurtle themselves from the train as it passes the school, and throw themselves onto rooftops and three stories below onto some sort of flat surface. They stumble and they laugh. Uncommon in the other factions: Laughter. I head on to Faction History; stumbling into a student as I pass, offering an apology to the dark-skinned Candor, I run to my next class; I'm late.
I am sorry if this story bores you, it will get better. If you have any opinions just leave a review. Not necessary, just a thought. Have a good day