Less
Summary: In the label of factionless, it's really only the –"less" that matters. The erudite boy can't make it on the train, and in that minute his life changes forever.
Author's Note: Parts in italics are flashbacks.
I can almost touch the hand held out to me, feel the sensation of flesh upon my own, but even as I try and hold on to the hand for my life, it slips away, and I am utterly alone.
"No! Don't leave me!" I cry out, not even sure if my last, pathetic cry for mercy will be heard above the roar of the train. The Dauntless look at me, then look away. I could not make it to training, and I am no longer worthy of their time and attention.
In the span of a few hours, I have gone from being a member, if not quite happily, of Erudite, to being a Dauntless hopeful, to being factionless.
It's a label I have to wear now, a label that comes with baggage and shame. I've rarely even seen the factionless—their part of town is by the Abnegation section, and I've never gone over there. Only on the rare occasions when a factionless person ventured further into the city have I seen one, and my future frightens me. The factionless I've seen have always seemed gaunt, dirty, and starving.
It's the "less" part of factionless that actually means anything. The fact that I am now less than the Dauntless, less than the Candor, less than Abnegation, less than Amity, and less than Erudite. I do not belong, because I cannot measure up to any of them.
Today, I choose poorly.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I wonder why they use such a painful method to show up choosing our factions. Surely there must be a simpler, less painful way for us to show where we belong.
Of course, it's not really about ease or cruelty. It's symbolic. Faction before blood. Faction becoming blood. And I'm about to betray the faction, the family, that raised me. Part of me wishes I couldn't, that I could just feign the part of the Erudite for the rest of my life.
I might not be pure Erudite, as I should be, but I'm reasonable enough to know that would never work. Today, I will be brave. I will be Dauntless.
My name is called, and I take the knife, the cold steel against my flesh making me alert, vigilant even. I give myself a few seconds to summon courage as I press the knife into my palm, making a perfect line of tiny red droplets. I hold my hand out, almost wishing the blood could fall over water, but I thrust it out over the coals instead, and the blood sizzles and my former faction murmurs.
A minute. I tell myself. You have a minute to stand up. I concentrate on one part of my body at a time. First, my shaking hands that rest on my knees. I take a deep breath and count to ten, willing them to still. They don't completely, but enough that I can use them.
I push down hard on the ground, using my hands to push myself to my feet. I cough as the dust from the train invades my lungs, but eventually it settles the dust cloud around me settles and I can both breathe and see easier.
If only the choosing ceremony wasn't public, maybe I could use my sneakiness to my advantage and return to my own faction. Candor was never an option for me, as all of my faction knew I could be sneaky, manipulative, and conniving when I needed to be. I hope that those character traits will be useful to me now. Unfortunately, since the ceremony is public, my faction will have labeled me a traitor by now, at the very least. I no longer belong to any but the other factionless people who roam the city, and for the first time, a part of me misses being in Erudite.
I look over the stack of books out of my window. For once, I am not imprisoned in my room to study, but to think. It's perhaps the first time in my life I've enjoyed the activity, if only now because I get to think of freedom.
I chew on the end of a pen, a habit my parents have long tried to break me from. My longing for breaking away from Erudite is not a matter or want or will; it's a matter of being. I feel unprepared to assimilate into any new faction, Dauntless included, even though my test results pointed to Dauntless as the faction to which I belong. However, despite my feelings, I am more Dauntless than Erudite. I've studied, I have the skills asked of the Erudite. . . but I simply am not Erudite. I cannot be.
Tomorrow, I will not hold my hand over the crystal blue water.
My blood will sizzle on coals instead.
My blood will sizzle, and for the first time, I will feel alive.
I thought choosing Dauntless would lead to a new feeling of being, turn on an aspect of life I never experienced.
Instead, I feel hollow. I feel water gather in my eyes, and I blink rapidly to hold back the tears.. As I wipe away the first tear, I stare at the droplet of salt water on my finger, the symbol of my former faction. I let myself laugh out loud at the irony, knowing no one is around me now.
I stare at the train tracks, directing all my anger and hatred towards the pieces of old iron. I kick a piece, welcoming the pain that shoots through my foot, giving me a small rush of adrenaline.
I turn away, knowing if I don't stop myself now I may never quit. I may not be Dauntless, but I can still be brave. I may not be Erudite, but I can still be smart.
I begin my trek to the neighborhood of the factionless. I have turned away from every thought of the factions, for now I am less than any of them.
