The wind whipped past his face. Tears slid down his cheeks, and soon became a river. He held his face in his hands, and screamed. He couldn't hear himself over the train. The pain he felt came from within; a spike eased into his heart.
The screeching rails were a cacophony, and his ears burned from their singing. Looking up, he saw his hope fade away into the distance. Gone, he thought. Fear bubbled inside of him. The easiness of freedom he had felt earlier had abandoned him, and now there was nothing but paranoia.
He whimpered quietly, clutching himself. The world went silent, and watched him. The train had hushed, and was now just a part of the horizon. As time passed the world lost interest in him, and went on as normal. He stood up from the ground, not realising that he was on his knees, and wiped his face.
The train was going to be his ticket to freedom, his ticket to Dauntless. He'd be away from his repression, and be able to do what he wanted, for the first time in his life. He could have been free. Now there would be nowhere for him to go, and he would belong nowhere, either. Not even in his family's arms.
He sighed, moving his shaggy red hair out of his eyes, and looked down at his clothes. Blue vest and tie, a white long sleeved shirt, black pants and shoes. Erudite clothes. A golden watch rested on his wrist. He noted that it was 4:38 pm. Probably the last few things I'll ever own, he thought.
He tried to convince himself that he would survive the loneliness to come. But he shuddered, weakened by the storm of hopelessness inside of him. His shoulders were weighed by stone. He looked left and right, hoping to see some signs of life. But all he saw was the long stretch of marsh-land before him. He didn't have a choice. I can't go back now.
And so he walked.
He followed the train tracks, choosing a direction. They seemed to stretch on forever. Like snakes, they slithered and coiled and bit into the ground. Their metallic scales shone a coppery, rusty red. It reminded him of blood.
Months seemed to go by in hours, and he felt trapped in time. Every step he took felt like the world was collapsing beneath him. He hoped that each step would just awaken him, revealing that he simply had a horrible dream, and that the choosing ceremony was yet to happen. But it never happened. The tracks almost comforted him, but he kept remembering the train, and how fast it went, and how slowly he ran.
He travelled for so long that his shoes began to wear through. He stopped, and took them off, along with his socks, and threw them to the other side of the tracks. They thudded heavily against the ground.
And then he heard it. A faint whisper. Nothing more than a whistle in the wind. But there it was. He looked behind him, and saw the bright lights of the train. He thought about jumping on as it ran past. But he remembered that no matter where he would go, he would still never belong. And so he climbed onto the train tracks. He had nothing left. The train stops for no one, he remembered. The train rushed closer and closer and closer. He closed his eyes, and soon felt a great thud.
The train kept on going. He opened his eyes.
He was on the other side of the tracks. He felt his body cautiously. He was still intact. How is that possible? He pushed himself up with his hands, and felt his left shoulder blade click painfully out of place. "Shit!" The pain spread all the way down to his fingers, and flickered between sharp pain and complete numbness.
There was coughing coming from behind him. He slowly moved his head around, and saw an older looking black boy covered in dust. He watched him cover his mouth as he coughed vigorously. Then their eyes met. His eyes were dark and cat like. They gave nothing away. It seemed as if he could see everything. He envied his eyes; his own were so blue, so innocent, so read-able. The black boy could see right through him.
"Are you crazy?" The black boy said, his voice disgruntled. "You know, you are probably the most stupid Erudite I've ever seen." The boy's voice was deep, husky, and with a cutting edge to it that bit like nothing else. His clothes were grey. Abnegation. He realised, with shame, that he was getting told off by a complete stranger, from the selfless faction. "You should think about surviving more than killing yourself." The Abnegation boy got up. His words left bitter shame in his own mouth.
"I'm Joseph, and obviously I'll be the more intelligent one out of the two of us," he said, all the while looking him in the eyes with mock disdain. "I've been following you for a good half mile. You're new, I can tell." Joseph held out a dusty hand. He slowly took it. Joseph pulled him up from the ground, thankfully not pulling on his left arm. When he stood, Joseph let go, and started to walk along the tracks, and he followed.
"So, what is your name, then?" Joseph asked.
"My name? I don't think I can remember." It felt like years since he last spoke his own name. 'Maybe I fell on my head?' he wondered. Joseph gave him a sideways glance. "Of course you can remember. The real question is, do you want to?"
He stopped in his tracks. Joseph is right, he thought. He didn't want to remember his name; maybe there could be some good out of changing his identity. No more pain from his past? And besides, who would want to know the past of a nowhere boy?
"I guess you could call me..." he hesitated. He didn't know if he wanted to choose his own fate. He was obviously quite bad at it.
"I'll call you Red," Joseph started. "Because your hair is the brightest son-of-a-bitch I've ever seen." Joseph laughed. Red nodded gratefully, smiling weakly, and started to walk again. The sun was setting now. Earlier today, he had a different name, a different life, and he wasn't a nowhere boy. He had a faction.
Red took off his blue vest and tie, and threw them to the ground. Red kept the watch on, though. He felt comfort in knowing the time. Joseph told him about crossing the marsh, to look for a way out of this place. He talked about how there could be other people living out there. Red liked the idea of running away, forever free. He'd no longer be alone with Joseph by his side, stranger or not.
And so they walked.
