Minerva was almost perfect.
With her long, curly black hair cascading down her back, and perfect chestnut eyes glowing in the reflection, she was easily attractive.
But Minerva couldn't waste her time on boys. She was a ballerina, and ballerinas had to be pure.
"Another pirouette," her dancing coach Taylor repeated for what seemed to be the thousandth time.
Minerva glared at Taylor through the large mirrors before her. She had short, frizzy hair that she tucked into her red cap, and emerald green eyes that were never happy. But what really shocked her was the large scar that spread across her face. Her cheek was inflamed, and her nose was forever a bright crimson red. Minerva had been told not to ask where the scar came from, but at times she couldn't contain herself and would make up stories about what could've happened.
Her most accomplished tale was the story of Taylor and her stepmother. Minerva had heard from others that Taylor's mother was convicted of attempted murder when she was five. Her father remarried when she started coaching her, and soon after, her scar formed. Minerva thought her new mother had something to do with it, especially since Taylor flinched every time she saw her. Luckily, Minerva's parents weren't like that, and they hopefully would never be.
"Minerva, it's like this," a high-pitched voice squealed from the corner. Taylor's seven year old daughter, Gaige. She dawns the same frizzy strawberry hair as Taylor, but instead wears amber eyes. Minerva has always been jealous of Gaige's abilities. She was born to be a dancer. Minerva was born to be a gymnast, but wanted to be different from her twin sister, Rachel. No matter how hard she tried, however, they always ended up traveling in the same paths.
Gaige stepped towards the centre of the room, and began turning on her pointe shoes. Once she had made a full spin, she looked excitedly at Minerva, expecting her to show her up. But Minerva was only paying attention to the time.
"It's almost lunch," she whispered, barely audible.
Taylor's face tightened slightly, causing the scar to exaggerate. Gaige folded her arms and stared down at her shoes. But Minerva was the only one with an actual emotion - fear.
Minerva awoke on the large, centre table of the cafeteria - where all the Candor sat. She began to identify many of her friends, but she pretended she was still asleep. That was, until a bony finger poked her stomach, causing her to shriek in pain.
She opened her eyes, and made out a short, skinny body with side-swept ginger hair. It was her best friend, Rupert Short. Minerva always thought his name was funny, since he was the shortest boy in their grade, standing at only 5'2", while Minerva was one of the tallest girls. Suddenly, a horrid thought entered her head. When they had first met, they had made a pact that they would marry if none of them did first. What would happen when Minerva was of age, and she had no one?
Only, that wouldn't happen. Minerva would eventually end up in the company once she was done was eighteen, and find her true love at age nineteen. They would have four perfect children, all of which would pursue ballet as a career. And they wouldn't make Minerva's mistakes.
Another poke broke Minerva out of her trance. She immediately grabbed Rupert's bony hand and twisted it so his face turned bright red. As soon as she realized what she was doing, she released his hand and unconsciously apologized under her breath, loud enough for him to catch. He nodded, and patted Minerva's back.
"With strength like that, you're definitely Dauntless!" Rupert joked, then clutched his hand to exaggerate. Minerva rolled her eyes and hopped off the table.
"What happened, by the way?" she asked, suddenly wondering why she was asleep on the table in the first place.
"Guess that Taylor pushed you too far again," Rupert replied rather seriously. She sighed and stared at her toes. There had been a time when Taylor was pregnant with Gaige, and the scar had a huge bandage on it. Taylor's mother was always there during her private lessons, and together, they were an evil force that broke Minerva to self-inflicted burns, and eventually...
"I guess I was just scared because of today," Minerva muttered, desperately trying to push away the memories.
Rupert nodded, obviously not believing her alibi, then turned his attention to his girlfriend, Rosetta Moon. Minerva understood why Rupert was so madly in love with her. She had soft, silky hair that looked as if each strand had been handpicked from a field of wheat. Her warm blue eyes were so kind and giving that they made anyone want to talk to her. And she had a loving smile that Rupert had told Minerva he loved kissing.
Suddenly, all conversations in the cafeteria silenced. Even the Amity, whom Minerva deeply envied. They were the only true ballerinas, with their peaceful faces and happy-go-lucky attitude. Minerva was honest, but barely anyone liked her because of this. That's why she had recently started lying; all she wanted was to be a peaceful ballerina like the Amity.
A man with jet-black hair stepped up to the centre of the room. He had a long beard and a growing mustache, and he seemed very close to the ground. But what surprised Minerva was the resemblance he had to Rupert. She looked at Rupert, and saw his jaw was clenched tightly. Rosetta put a hand on his shoulder, but this only made him angrier.
"Welcome, fellow students, soon to be adults!" the man announced, his voice booming throughout the room. "We shall start this magnificent day by calling everyone in alphabetical order. Let's begin with..." The man rummaged through his many papers. "...Roberta Alice."
Minerva turned to face Rupert. "Who is that guy?" she questioned him.
"My dad," Rupert mumbled. He stared at his long fingernails and started drumming on the table without a care in the world.
Minerva remembered her parents's divorce. When her mother had said those three words - "I hate you," a nerve struck in Minerva's stomach. She had never seen her mother so angry, so full of hate. But she had never ever in her life seen her father yank her sister, Rachel's dark hair and lock her in their bathroom when she was caught kissing a boy. Rachel had told her that he did this all the time, but Minerva didn't want to believe it. This was in the middle of her parents's divorce. When Rachel was becoming the insane gymnast she is today, and Minerva was becoming the perfect ballerina she tries to be everyday. Rachel thinks the reason she is so obsessed with perfection is because her father expected her to be just like him. But Minerva failed when he left her. He left her, despite everything she did to please him. Minerva was forever imperfect.
"Minerva Wendy Grant," Rupert's dad suddenly announced. Minerva stifled a gasp and stood from her table. She ignored the whispers of her faction.
"I heard she does ballet, like the Amity."
"She's been lying an awful lot, don't you think?"
"Liar, liar, pointe shoes on fire."
"Stupid ballerinas, their hormones are always on attack mode."
Minerva was guided into a dark hall at the end of the room. She closed her eyes, battling excitement, and suddenly was shoved into a room with mirrors on every wall. There was a chair in the middle, sort of as if she was about to be interrogated by the police.
"Sit," a soft, kind voice said from Minerva's left. She looked towards it, and noticed a young woman dressed in all blue, pouring serums into a tiny injector. She was an Erudite.
Minerva skipped to the chair and relaxed once she felt her arms on the handles. The woman made her way to her, holding the injector, and began putting wires on Minerva's forehead. She began to sweat with fear.
"I'm Lacey," the woman introduced herself. "Don't worry. This will only be a sharp sting."
And it was. Because before she knew it, Minerva felt a wasp stinging her shoulder, and she was out cold.
Minerva awoke in the cafeteria, but all the tables were empty. Outside the large windows, she could see it was snowing. In front of her, there were two baskets. One contained innocent cheese, while the other contained a large and dangerous knife.
"Choose," a woman's voice whispered close to her ear.
Minerva nodded, but struggled to choose just one. If she needed the knife, obviously something horrendous was bound to happen, but then why would she need the cheese unless the problem could be solved peacefully?
She had made her choice. Minerva snatched the cheese from the basket, and soon the table disappeared.
Suddenly, Minerva was tackled to the ground with great force. A claw dug into her hand, narrowly missing the painful burn marks already there. She screamed in pain, then realized the cheese in her hand. Panicking, she threw the cheese under the table of the cafeteria. The thing on her back, as if memorized, sprinted to the cheese and began biting into it. Minerva observed the animal and learned it was a fair-haired dog, that surprisingly didn't look as menacing as she thought. And that was when Minerva's world suddenly turned dark.
As soon as she awoke, Minerva knew she had been imperfect. She had taken far too long to get away from the creature, and she had ashamed her father.
"How did it go?" Rupert asked as she made her way back to the cafeteria.
"I'm a failure," Minerva replied, and slumped back into her seat, watching her twin sister walk nervously into the dark hall. "I failed my father. I'm imperfect."