My father visited my bedroom again last night, like he does every night before turning in. I have to lay there and wait till he's finished because fighting against him only makes it worse. He added to the marks that bruise my skin; he's not a gentle man, my father, and never has been.
We walked in perfect sync, my father and I; my hands where clenched tightly together behind my back, just like his. My every step and every movement mimicking his; just how I always have, just like it's always been. His face was friendly; he smiles at friends and he nods his head at strangers. I never see this side of him at home; it's like he has two personalities, one for me and one for everybody else.
It's just he and I at home. My mother died giving birth to me; I heard that she was a beautiful woman, that she was loving and kind and that I am very much like her. Perhaps that's why my father does the things he does because I remind him of her and it makes him angry.
He has never loved me but he puts up a good show in front of other people.
It is choosing day today, the day that will determine the rest of my life. Yesterday was test day; my score was, as expected, Abnegation but only because I played it that way. My father is sure that I will return home after the ceremony but he's wrong, I'd rather be factionless than return home to him.
I've never belonged in Abnegation anyway.
"Are you ok, love?" He asks me as we arrive at our destination and begin climbing the steps "nervous?"
"Yes, sir" I mumble. It's not a lie. I am afraid of my father and I am nervous about defying him and choosing another faction
"Just remember to choose the right bowl, Amelia." He told me with a smile to make others think that he was making light of the situation but I knew better.
"Yes, sir" I repeat, panting slightly as we finally reached the twentieth floor and walked through the door. "Thank you" I muttered to Andrew Prior, one of the city council members, who was holding it open.
Everyone, who was to be choosing today, arranged themselves in alphabetical order; I, being Amelia Adams, was stood right at the top of line but, as our names were being chosen in reverse alphabetical order, it didn't give me an advantage. My name would be called dead last.
For some reason, according to the people of Abnegation, defecting from your original faction is considered to be selfish which means that not many from my home faction defect but, today, three of us chose different factions. Caleb Prior, Andrew Prior's son, chose Abnegation and his daughter, Beatrice, chose Dauntless.
I turned slightly to see the reactions of their parents. Andrew looked stunned beyond words but their mother, Natalie I think her name is, was smiling as she placed a hand atop her husbands, for a brief moment, in an attempt to comfort him; I wondered if she knew.
When it was my turn, all eyes were fixed on me. My father, like Andrew Prior, is a member of the city council which means that he is well respected within our community.
It took me a moment to figure out why people were so fixated on me as I walked toward Marcus Eaton, the man who was conducting the ceremony, when I remembered. Marcus' son also defected; it was a couple of years ago now so I don't remember him, I just remember the stories and the playground gossip. Word has it, Marcus beat his son; most people don't believe it but Marcus reminds me of my father and I know what happens in my house so I wouldn't be surprised if the rumours were true.
I picked up the knife, which had been wiped clean, and pressed it to the palm of my left hand before slicing, a little too deep, into the skin. I curled my fingers around my cut, ignoring the throbbing heat coming from it, and stared at the bowls.
There were five of them, one for each faction. Within the bowls were different substances that represent each faction; Gray stones for Abnegation, water for Erudite, earth for Amity, lit coals for Dauntless, and glass for Candor.
Completely dismissing the Abnegation bowl, I surveyed the other four before deciding to follow in the footsteps of Beatrice Prior. I watched my blood sizzle on the hot coals before turning and heading over to my new faction who were cheering for me but I wasn't even given a chance to sit down before the members of Dauntless, my new faction, got up from their chairs and started for the exit, cheering, whooping and just generally being loud.
Being small and far too skinny from years of being underfed, I got swept along with them and had to keep up with them so that I wasn't trampled but, even as I ran through the doors and out onto the street, I didn't feel free. My father would never forgive me for this and he'd try to take me back.
Even though my father was still inside the building, still on the twentieth floor, I didn't feel safe but this made me run faster, it made me even more determined to pass my initiation so that, if he did ever try to take me back, I could fight against him and maybe, just maybe, win.
Our first test, as Dauntless initiates, was to jump onto a fast moving train. For me, it was effortless. Given my position in the crowd, I was all but hauled onto the train without even needing to ask for help. I was grateful.
The train car filled up with the new initiates who were panting with the effort they'd put in to jumping on. I felt uncomfortable being amongst so many bodies in such a tight space so I pushed myself up against the far wall and slid down it, Beatrice joining me soon after along with a Candor girl who introduced herself as Christina.
"How did you get on so easy?" Christina asked me, still panting.
I shrugged; conversation was something that I wasn't used to. My father liked silence and I was only allowed to talk to him when he allowed me to and even then it was almost always 'yes, sir' or 'no, sir'.
"What's your name, Stiff?" She asked, narrowing her eyes at the fact that I wasn't willing to talk to her.
Staring at her for a moment but didn't reply. As far as I was concerned, I left my Abnegation name behind with my father. I never wished to be associated with him again.
"Stiff it is then" The Candor sighed when I didn't answer before turning to Beatrice "and you?"
"Beatrice" she replied.
"Wow, two Stiffs defecting to Dauntless in one year; unheard off" she smiled "why did you move?"
Beatrice shrugged "I didn't belong there."
The two girls chatted for a while but I tuned them out, leaning my head against the cold metal and closing my eyes and keeping them shut until someone announced that people were jumping.
My eyes snapped open and I stood to peer out of the door only to see people jumping from the train and onto the roof of a building. Beatrice looked a little worried but I didn't care; I was terrified of heights but, the way I saw it, I would either jump and succeed, jump and fall to my death or refuse to jump and become factionless and all three options were better than returning to Abnegation. I didn't think about it and I didn't wait for anyone else to jump first, I just took a running leap and let gravity do the rest.
I landed on my knees, ripping my grey Abnegation skirt, and had to roll out of the way before and Erudite boy landed on top of me. "Wow, a Stiff" he stated as he stared at me with humour written all over his face. I had no idea why he found this amusing but I wasn't about to ask. "Showing a little too much skin there, Stiff" he smirked, pointing to my skirt which had torn up the seam and was showing off more thigh than what for appropriate for Abnegation.
Getting to my feet, I just raised my eyebrows at him before ripping my skirt so that I barely covered my buttocks and removing my jacket. I threw both at him and was just about to walk off when I hear a wail. I turn my head, searching for the source of the sound. A Dauntless girl stands at the edge of the roof, staring at the ground below, screaming. Behind her a Dauntless boy holds her at the waist to keep her from falling off.
"Rita," he says. "Rita, calm down. Rita—"
I stand and look over the edge. There is a body on the pavement below us; a girl, her arms and legs bent at awkward angles, her hair spread in a fan around her head. My stomach sinks and I stare at the railroad tracks. Not everyone made it.
Rita sinks to her knees, sobbing. I turn away. The longer I watch her, the more I feel myself shutting down. When living with a man like my father, a person must be able to control their emotions.
"Listen up! My name is Max! I am one of the leaders of your new faction!" shouts a man at the other end of the roof. He is older than the others, with deep creases in his dark skin and grey hair at his temples, and he stands on the ledge like it's a sidewalk. Like someone didn't just fall to her death from it. "Several stories below us is the members' entrance to our compound. If you can't muster the will to jump off, you don't belong here. Our initiates have the privilege of going first."
"You want us to jump off a ledge?" asks an Erudite girl. She is a few inches taller than I am, with mousy brown hair and big lips. Her mouth hangs open.
I don't know why it shocks her.
"Yes," Max says. He looks amused.
"Is there water at the bottom or something?"
"Who knows?" He raises his eyebrows.
The crowd in front of the initiates splits in half, making a wide path for us. I look around. No one looks eager to leap off the building—their eyes are everywhere but on Max. Some of them nurse minor wounds or brush gravel from their clothes. I glance at Peter. He is picking at one of his cuticles. Trying to act casual.
I step forward, moving through the crowd of Dauntless born and transfers, ignoring the fact that I can feel their eyes on the back of my head. Max takes one look at me and raises his eyebrows as he says "isn't your skirt a little short for a Stiff?" But I ignore him as I step up onto the ledge.
Max has now moved off the ledge and is watching me as I turn to face him, waiting. I knew that this was a scare tactic because, as crazy as some of the Dauntless are, they're not likely to kill an entire bunch of initiates before training has even begun; so I ignore the fear that was building up inside of me, hold my arms out, and fall backwards off the ledge.
The air howls in my ears as the ground surges toward me, growing and expanding, or I surge toward the ground, my heart pounding so fast it hurts, every muscle in my body tensing as the falling sensation drags at my stomach. The hole surrounds me and I drop into darkness.
I hit something hard. It gives way beneath me and cradles my body. The impact knocks the wind out of me and I wheeze, struggling to breathe again. My arms and legs sting.
A net. There is a net at the bottom of the hole. I look up at the building and let out a huff of air, glad that my assumptions had been correct.
I have to stand on solid ground again. I see a few hands stretching out to me at the edge of the net, so I grab the first one I can reach and pull myself across. I roll off, and I would have fallen face-first onto a wood floor if he had not caught me.
"He" is the young man attached to the hand I grabbed. He has a spare upper lip and a full lower lip. His eyes are so deep-set that his eyelashes touch the skin under his eyebrows, and they are dark blue, a dreaming, sleeping, waiting colour.
His hands grip my arms, but he releases me a moment after I stand upright again. We stand on a platform ten feet above the ground. Around us is an open cavern.
"Can't believe it," a voice says from behind him. It belongs to a dark-haired girl with three silver rings through her right eyebrow. She smirks at me. "A Stiff, the first to jump? Unheard of."
"There's a reason why she left them, Lauren," he says. His voice is deep, and it rumbles. "What's your name?" I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out. "Think about it," he says, a faint smile curling his lips. "You don't get to pick again."
A new place, a new name. I can be remade here but I didn't know what to choose.
After a moment or two of awkward silence, he frowns as he asks "can you speak?"
I decide to go with it and shake my head. "Hmm" Lauren frowns "now that's an issue."
"Not really" the young man states "we'll just choose one for her." He turns to me "do you mind?" I shake my head and watch him think for a minute before he says "Caspar."
"Caspar?" Snorts Lauren "like Caspar the Ghost?! What the hell?"
"Do you have any better suggestions?" He sighs with raised eyebrows
"Why don't you just call her Ghost; it couldn't be any more offensive, could it?"
They both look to me. I didn't care either way, they could call me Stiff for my entire life for all I cared.
"Make the announcement, Four." She sighed
The boy—Four—looks over his shoulder and shouts, "First jumper—Caspar!"
A crowd materializes from the darkness as my eyes adjust. They cheer and pump their fists, and then another person drops into the net. Beatrice, who was announced as Tris and then, the third jumper materialises, her screams following her down. Christina. Everyone laughs, but they follow their laughter with more cheering.
Four sets his hand on my back and says, "Welcome to Dauntless."
His touch made me jump away from him. On his face was an expression of confusion but he didn't question it. I sighed quietly, damning my father for breaking me. Nobody knows about my aversion to any kind of physical contact but even if they did I could never tell them why.