Sorry just A/N: Just to clear up some misunderstandings, I like to bold my dialogue! Sorry if you thought Marcus was yelling in a really dramatic voice or something. I always bold all of my dialogue, I don't really know why.
One choice can transform you.
One choice can define your beliefs, decide your friends, confirm your loyalties.
One choice can destroy you.
After filing out of the bus, Abnegation members walk in a huddled mass to the Choosing Ceremony. Tension squeezes in my chest. I can feel my father's stare burning holes in my back, warning me, threatening me, silencing me. I am not ready to spend the rest of my life under his abuse. I have aptitude for Dauntless. I will choose it today.
My eyes drift to my father's shadow on the ground, to the noisy group of Dauntless in front of us, then to the girl shuffling beside me, the daughter of one of my father's coworkers—Beatrice Prior. Her breath is as heavy and nervous as mine.
Abnegation is last to arrive; we are the only ones who took the stairs. There are rows of families already seated on one half of the room, and on the other half there is a podium where my father will deliver his speech. In front of the podium, there are five colossal bowls, each representing one of the five factions. In front of the bowls, there is a line of sixteen year olds, all who will have decided their life by the next hour.
The Abnegation members disperse into their own individual families. Parents hug their children and whisper things to them. I have never known that support or comfort. My mother is dead. My father beats me.
A heavy hand grabs my shoulder, sending a jolt of fear through my body. Suddenly, my heart pounds in my head. There is ringing. I can feel the years of pain inflicted by this very hand, and instinctively, my body goes rigid.
My father's cold, threatening breath itches my ear.
"Do not disappoint me," he grumbles in a low voice. He gives my shoulder a final, painful squeeze before letting go. I tremble, waiting for him to walk past. I can still feel the ghost of his fingers lingering on my shoulder and I wipe my sweaty palms on my pants. There is no way I could stay with him. Remaining in Abnegation is not an option.
Besides me, Beatrice Prior is the only person who has a face of uncertainty of all the Abnegation teenagers. As her mother pulls her in for a hug, Beatrice stares absently at the ceiling, frown wrinkles creasing on her forehead. She looks uncomfortable. She looks like she will not be joining her family after all of this, and it gives me courage.
"Welcome, welcome!" my father smiles as everyone settles in their seat. Immediately I tune him out. His voice fades and all I can see is his mouth moving, his austere eyes looking over the room. I refuse to believe I share his eyes, his arrogance. I will never be him.
I hear gasps and outcries. Suddenly, I am watching Caleb, Beatrice's brother, join the cluster of Erudite. The Abnegation, normally so quiet, speak to each other in tense whispers and cast glares towards the smug Erudite. I know what they are thinking—the Erudite are our sworn enemy. And for a moment, I wonder if Beatrice will join them too.
My eyes cling to her as she emerges from her spot, her small back expanding with one step and contracting with another. Then after taking the knife from Marcus, Beatrice approaches the bowls with her arm out. It quivers between the stones of Abnegation and the flames of Dauntless.
Dead silence envelopes the room as she draws a line of blood from her wrist, everyone watching to see where the blood will fall. The blood drips to the floor between the two bowls, and a gasp slips from her mouth.
Then I hear it—the sound of blood sizzling. She chose Dauntless.
There are more outcries. So much, Marcus shouts, "Quiet down!" I cringe slightly when he raises his voice. That makes two people from Abnegation transfers.
The room is constantly moving, someone stepping out of line, a twitch of the blade, a new choice, a new life. When it becomes my turn, a shudder propels me forward.
It isn't customary, but I glance over my shoulder and look over at the group of Abnegation I will be leaving behind. They have kind faces, and I remember watching them from a window as they work hours for the benefit of the factionless, packaging food or sewing clothes. For a moment, I believe I could stay. I believe I could be happy.
Then I meet stares with Marcus and my step almost falters. Marcus' eyes are cold and brutal and I imagine returning home with him. I imagine him dragging me away and throwing me in a closet where he will whip me a hundred times over with his belt. My skin tingles. That would be my future if I choose Abnegation.
I grab the knife from him and fit my feet to where Beatrice stood. My heart races. I can't breathe. I bring the point of the knife to my palm and drag it across my skin, clinging to every ounce of pain. Every bone in my body is shouting at me to pick Abnegation. I was Abnegation-born, Abnegation-raised. I am selfless, I am selfless, I am selfless.
I thrust my arm forward, then lift my head to glare at my father.
The only sound in the room is the sound of my blood sizzling in the coals.