Prologue
Recalling.
Each step an eternity, each moment an everlasting fragment of discomfort. The factions are gone. The buildings are pale, slightly demolished ghosts of this once divided city, sitting in the shadows ever so insignificantly. They stand there, blatant and blunt, as a reminder of our partaking in the Purity War experiment.
I can still recall each one, though it seems so long ago. Candor, with their dull but sometimes intricate clothes of black and white. Amity, with their braids and fervent colors, sending joy to anyone who thinks the antithetic; their personality entirely incongruous to this world of captivity. Erudite, looking simply identical – with almost undetectable nuances – wearing their blue suits of supreme superiority.
Dauntless. My breath still catches at the name. Their varying shades of black and daring actions of pure bravery. Each citizen displaying their own means of courage through physical and mental obstacles. My memories there are perpetual, forever locked inside my mind. The chasm, capture the flag, initiation, the cake.
And last of all... Abnegation. The place of my birth, the place where I grew up, the place I left behind after The Choosing Ceremony. Their prude clothing of the dullest grays constantly dwells in my past, in addition to the minutes spent with my family. Standing at that mirror, the one that only cared to make an appearance on the second day of every third month, allowing my mother to snip away silently at my wispy blonde hair, and to twist it into a knot in the back of my head – a requirement for the reserved faction.
Each piece has now been brought together to create one. Honesty, peace, intelligence, bravery, and selflessness –the threads of humanity – woven into a tapestry that welcomes all. And now, as I walk through the corn fields, through the streets, past the river, I realize we are officially strong.
I am different. My clothes have changed from the intermingled pieces of each faction to a simple style that consists of a verdant shirt and blue jeans. My motives have also been slightly amended. I find myself wanting to relive the past, rather than search for the future.
The town of Chicago passes me by as I move toward my desired destination. I no longer have to run. I am free – a bird relieved of captivity – flying throughout the streets of a city, away from the malevolent cage that held my body for so long.
My brain still fogs at the memory. I was supposedly informed of the truth, – what really happened that day in the weapons lab, but how can I decipher fact from fiction when every action that they speak of seems entirely fallacious? I wordlessly dismiss the thought. No use in dwelling on the past in which I have being trying so hard to forget.
My feet ache from excessive wear, each step filled with a numbing pain. I have traveled all the way from the Bureau... by foot. It would have been to obvious of my escape if I had called for a car or some other motorized vehicle to assist the journey, so instead, I faced the hardships.
I fix my gaze on the structure in front of me, an anti-extravagant building north of the marshy river. It consists of a series of apartments with broad, abundant windows and dark gray walls, ... the place in where I was informed he lived...