Forgetting Yourself

BlueBerry98 here and this is my new fanfiction I have paired up with my friend and written for you.

Disclaimer: We don't own anything apart from the character Christopher and the plot. Although some elements are taken from other fanfictions as they are so good but we have changed them slightly to fit with our story. Hope you enjoy J

Chapter 1

I guess to start our story off, you have to know something about me. After all it's a big part of my life, and if we are to understand each other, you need to know it.

When I was seven my father died. It was a car crash and a drunk driver that killed him. I, my mother and brother Caleb we devastated. However, a year or so later my mother meet a man called Christopher. They married in the summer I turned eleven and we soon moved with him to Arizona. That's when we saw his true colours. And by that I mean black and blue. I would call him cruel, bitter and hateful. It wasn't just my mother he beat, it was me as well. He has never once touched Caleb, something my mother prays never happens.

Christopher is a businessman. You know the ones who hide stuff under their suit and tie. No one would think that he is a woman beater under it. The suit makes him a respected man, not in my eyes anyway. But his work, and his dirty little secret revealing itself meant, a few years ago we had to move here, to Chicago. That meant, a new house, new school, new people and as my mother hoped a new life. Sadly, it wasn't.

That is when I came to Divergent High and the bulling started. I was the newbie, different and that made me a danger to the school hierarchy. Of course I was put into the Misfits. We are known as the lowest of the low. Basically we are invisible but when everyone wants a little fun they came and pick on us. It's not fair. We are the best people once you get to know us. We don't deserve to be anyone's punching bag; not verbally or physically. Myself and my friends, Christina, Will and Al all belong to this group. They are the only ones who welcomed me three years ago when I was a shy, timid fourteen year old.

The school system has divided us into groups, which is no help to us outside in the real world. There is us the misfits. Then one up is the druggies. The people who think their cool but are far from it. They don't get picked on, that's our speciality. They don't have that much status but are more noticeable than we are. There also the people who in ten years' time will either be in, prison, rehab or squalor.

Next we have the hipsters which is just everyone else, by that I mean the normal people who are like extras in a film. Then the teachers and the Principle. The people who actually try to restore any peace in our school, like there is any. You would think they would be the people at the top, but oh no that goes to the next group.

The Barbie's and Kens. Basically the popular kids. The air headed bimbos and the muscly jock type. All of them are evil. Horrible, evil monsters. Not even human. They are the once who terrorise us Misfits. Their leader, and the boss per say of our school, Four. And yes, that is a nickname, a stupid one at that. However I would rather spend an afternoon with these idiots that one second in the company of my stepdad.

Now I've explained most things, it's just a typical Wednesday lunchtime. One in which, Christina and Will are sucking each other's faces off and Al is on his phone, probably texting his cougar of a girlfriend. Ok maybe she isn't a cougar, but she is twenty. So I decide to go get my gym bag out of my locker. I hate gym. I hate having it every Wednesday afternoon. But most of all I hate the people in it. It's full of Barbie's and Kens.

I'm walking down the surprisingly empty corridor. It shouldn't be this empty; the canteen wasn't exactly full and outside wasn't busy. I turn the corner and that's where they all are. They snigger and laugh; my body fills with dread as I notice they are gathered in a semi-circle crowd around my locker.

Wait, their all around my locker. Scratch what I said before, I hate them just as much.