So…my first time writing anything to do with Fanfiction. Maybe I'll become one of those writing prodigies whom everyone knows their username? Probably not, but I assume I should still dream, correct? No? Okay then :c
The windows lining the school bus are cold; covered in ice from the harsh storm the night before, no doubt. My teeth are chattering and I shiver as I tug my thick grey overshirt closer to my small frame, begging for what little warmth it could provide. I lose my grip and lightly gasp as our bus hits a pothole in the road. I imagine these roads haven't seen any upkeep in decades; maybe even centuries; no one really knows. The winters in our city are cold, very cold, but somehow my peers don't seem to notice, or they have grown accustomed to the intense chill that still causes my bones to ache after seventeen years. Sometimes I wish I lived somewhere else, somewhere warmer. Our textbooks in school tell of places like the Equator, which spans around the entire planet, and other places that never get cold and are always sweltering with heat. I often dream of journeying there someday. Going outside the city into who knows where in a desperate search for something new, something more suitable to my personality, my being. Alas, after the 'Great War', as our instructors call it, we were forbidden from leaving. Forbidden from going anywhere but inside our city, and even now it's hard to get around without someone pestering you, especially when you're my age.
My name is Beatrice Prior, and I'm an 11th grade student at Chicago Central High School. I never understood why the school had that name; I don't even know what a 'Chicago' is, to be quite honest. No one does. All I know is that I'm here, I attend school here, and the bus I'm currently riding has recently parked at said school. My brother, Caleb, nudges my ribs, beckoning me towards the aisle and knocking me out of my daze. An Erudite man stands just as I do and looks down at me with expecting eyes. I then remember that I am a member the Abnegation, the Faction of selflessness. Hesitating, I lean back down in my seat and allow the man to pass, along with a dark skinned girl from Candor who seems to be about my age. She is wearing black flats, casual black slacks, a white dress shirt, and a black tie, which is common attire for the Candor. She smiles at me as she walks by and I catch myself wondering why anyone would smile at an Abnegation. We're often laughed at, taunted, or mistreated, simply because we're taught at a young age that we aren't permitted to defend ourselves, as that would be self-indulgent.
As I exit the school bus, I look above me to see the faulty, rusted symbol of our school. The symbol consists of all of the Factions' emblems inside a circle. Two hands wrapped around each other for Abnegation, a tree for Amity, flames for Dauntless, an eye for Erudite, and balancing scales for Candor.
I've came to consider this building as my home away from home, but in a few months, all of that will change. I turned sixteen within a month ago, meaning that in a few months I will be attending the Choosing Ceremony, where I can choose to stay in my current Faction, or I can choose to leave, to become someone else. Today, however, I will be taking a test, but not one that I can use a pencil and paper for. My parents told me that the test is inside your mind, and that someone will look at what you're dreaming and determine which Faction you're best suited for. Part of me hopes that my results will show that Abnegation is my brain's preferred Faction, so that I can stay at home with my parents although I've always admired the Erudite and the Dauntless. The Erudite are who create all of our technologies and are known for being the geniuses of the city. The Dauntless are the exact opposite of Erudite, being that their days consist of jumping off of trains to get to school and beating each other up for fun. I don't understand why, but they're way of life has always intrigued me. Maybe I'll be cut out for Dauntless?
I open the double doors to the school and warm air gusts towards me, wrapping itself around me as if it were a blanket. I know better than to believe its false comfort. The two years I've spent at this school have been the worst. In Abnegation, we aren't allowed to have a best friend as that would be rude to the other people around us, so I simply choose not to have friends, in general. I know that if I were to acquire a friend, I would put them on a metaphorical pedestal, holding them high above the rest of my peers. I've wondered if the rest of my Faction feels as I do, or if I'm just not cut out for Abnegation. Only part of me can wish that was true, and I dare not tell anyone. Abnegation's flaw is that they shun people who aren't as selfless as they are. I seem to have missed that bullet, but only because the gun has yet to fire.
"Move it, Stiff," I hear. A female voice. I've obviously been standing still for too long. That or I'm being made fun of simply because of my Faction of origin.
"Yeah, move before I pull up your shirt sleeve," another voice taunts, this one is a male, "Isn't that like, the worst sin in your Faction?"
I feel him shove into me, sending me to the ground. My books skid across the hallway and an angry blush forms across my cheeks. I turn around, only to see the mocking faces of Peter and Molly. They are from Candor, so I can only assume that they're obligated to tell the truth. Are they telling the truth about me? About my Faction?
"Hey!" another voice calls. I recognize this one, "Leave her alone. May I remind you that class begins in thirty seconds?"
This voice is Caleb's. He speaks as if he is above them, and quite frankly he is. He's always been the smart one of the family; of the entire school, and tends to use his ability to manipulate others far too often than he should. Although, he's one of the most selfless people I know, given his egotistical flaw.
Peter and Molly scoff at him but turn towards their classes, nonetheless.
"Come on, Bea, you can't just let them bully you like that."
I collect my books and scurry to my feet, "Are they right about our Faction?"
"What do you mean?" he asks. He has a quizzical look about him, as if he's reading me like a book. It makes me uncomfortable.
"They all say we're too uptight. Are they right?"
He closes his eyes, letting a sigh escape his mouth. He doesn't answer me.