This is a chapter taken from my other story: Divergent: Retold that I thought would make a cute little one shot :)

I hope you enjoy

I take one breath in and one breath out-

I pull one foot off of the ledge and stick it out in front of me.

My weight is pulled forward.

I am falling.

I feel the wind rush up and around me, acting as a barrier between myself and what lies at the bottom. My mouth is open in shock but no sounds escape. As quickly as it begins, it ends. My body crashes into something below and my hands reach out on either side of me and grip onto what feels like netting. It stretches down and then rises back up, continuing to do so until it steadies. What just happened catches up with me and I find myself slightly throwing my head back, my mouth forming a smile, and letting out a laugh.

Suddenly I feel myself rolling to the left and my laughter ceases. Someone had pulled the net down and is now looking at me intensely, but not in the eyes.

I discover it is a man- in his late twenties maybe? His features suggest he is. My eyes scan over his face, trying to memorize every feature. He has light brown hair, almost short enough to be abnegation hair, but is just long enough that it isn't. His ears stick out a little and he has a slightly hooked nose. He is mesmerizing. Very defined as everything seems to meet at sharp angles and corners, connecting each part to the rest. A bit scary almost.

Our eyes meet. A tone of light brown mixed with lines of dark. No. He is younger than late twenties. His body says he's older but his eyes betray him. As his stare deepens he doesn't seem so scary anymore. He appears fragile- like a child who has yet to experience any pain in the world. Except the way he holds himself suggests maturity. But his look is in a way that indicates secrets- lost deep within the confines of his mind.

"What, did you get pushed?" he asks with what I think is a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips and a twinge of half-hearted laughter on the edge of his voice. It was so subtle that if you weren't right next to him you wouldn't have noticed it at all.

"No." I never take my eyes away from his, and he doesn't try and look away either.

His eyes look down and he places his hands underneath me and hauls me over the side of the net as I reach my arms out and grab onto his shoulders to steady myself. I feel my feet hit the ground and we release our hold on each other. He raises his eyes back up to meet mine. His eyes are the most beautiful brown I've ever seen. No- they are a much more striking hazel. A mix of all the colors. Looking into them feels warm, familiar. A kindness and gentleness hidden behind a facade meant to drive everyone away. If anything I feel more drawn in. His gaze is so intense I think I may drown in it. I don't think I would mind.

"What's your name?" he questions as his gaze never leaves mine. It's only now I realize I am still breathing heavily from the excitement of jumping into the net.

I take a deep breath in.

"It's Bea-" I let out a slow breath and look away. Beatrice doesn't seem to fit anymore. Beatrice was a not selfless enough Abnegation girl. I am no longer that girl. But if I am not Beatrice, who am I? I can feel his eyes lingering over me. I can't think while he's looking at me.

"Is it a hard one? You can pick a new one, but make it good. You don't get to choose again." He again has a sliver of laughter at the end of his voice. It is almost non-existent. He is still trying to capture my gaze. I don't let him. Who am I now? I left everything I knew behind when I hovered my hand over the burning coals and watched as my blood sizzled away. I don't know who I am anymore. But I know I am not Beatrice.

"Tris." My eyes flit upwards towards his gaze as I say it. The name escaped my lips before I even knew I was thinking it. The name feels foreign at first, but then as I continue repeating in my head, it seems right. Beatrice was the name of a small girl dressed in grey. The girl who wasn't allowed to speak at the dinner table unless she was addressed. Tris is the name of a warrior- a fighter. Tris is someone who is free. I am free. I am Tris.

"My name is Tris." I repeat, trying the name out again. I smile slightly at the thought of a brand new start. No one here knows who I am. To them I am just another initiate. I think I see a small smile tugging at the corner of the nameless man's mouth. Maybe I am seeing things.

"Make the announcement Four." I hear a voice say from behind me. It frightens me a little. I turn my head back to see a woman. Maybe the same age as, who I now know as Four, is. A number for a name. It must be a nickname. No one names their child after a number. He nods his head and turns towards a crowd of people who I just noticed were there.

"First jumper, Tris!" Four's voice is loud and smooth.

He turns back towards me and looks right into my eyes.

"Welcome to Dauntless."

Review and tell me what you think?

xx