A/N: Hello, people! This is my first Divergent FanFic, so I hope you enjoy. I am open to suggestions you might have. Please read A/N at bottom.
My entire life, I've been running. Running from my past, running from my fears, running from life itself. But wherever I try to hide, I am caught. Sometimes, there is good done when I am found, when the secret is discovered. Other times, I wish I could have been left alone to wallow with these feeling threatening to swallow me up. Is it too much to ask for a moment's peace? For just one, simple second when I can decide my fate, and it doesn't matter the other's opinions? Apparently, it is too much to request.
Some say my mind is weird, that it works differently than one would expect. But I would call my mind changed. Altered by things beyond my control. Someone took away the control I once possessed, and I'm still struggling to regain it. I try with all my existance, I try to possess that power over my life again, but life doesn't seem to allow it.
I've always been living in a shadow of the life I left behind, ever since that day that took my family away. I was only six, but the memory is still fresh in my mind, even after almost ten years. After the "accident", I was moved to live with our "family friend", Jeanine Matthews. I remember the day as if it were yesterday.
My parents, my older brother, Caleb, and I were driving home from our vacation during our autumn break in October. The truck came out of nowhere, speeding towards us faster than the speed of light, ramming into the side of our small van. Our small van reacted to the force by flipping and twisting over before coming to a painful rest in a ditch. I screamed the whole time, but I could only hear my scream. I couldn't hear my mom's or my dad's;I couldn't even hear Caleb's.
After that, the memories become fuzzy and not as defined. As far as I can tell, I was brought to the local hospital where any scratches I had were treated. There, Jeanine picked me up, and for the last 10 years, she has been my legal guardian. But what's happening now?
We moved. Moved from our cozy place in Florida into a small, confined cottage in Chicago, Illinois. Although I'd love to protest, say that I don't want to move, I can't. I haven't talked in 10 years. I've never even talked to myself.
My thoughts are interrupted by the door opening, and Jeanine steps in. I internally cringe. For 8 years now, Jeanine has been struggling with a drinking problem. Most of the time, she's drunk, and when she is in that state, she seems to think everything is my fault, and I should suffer for the problems in her life.
When I was 8, she first brought out the belt. In my little 3rd grader mind, I didn't even realize the trouble it would cause me if I screamed out loud. The cries of pain coming from my mouth only fueled her anger, and she whipped my harder. Currently, my back is draped in long white scars from her multiple beatings. Once again, my train of thoughts is interrupted by Jeanine clearing her throat. I discretely examine her. She seems to be sober, not drunk. Maybe she's only going to talk to me.
"Now, Tris," she begins in a stern voice. "I have a feeling that you don't want to be called Beatrice tomorrow on your first day of school." I wince for two reasons; one, I really hate my full name. It brings back too many memories. Second, I am afraid of society, but after 8 years of homeschooling to hide the scars and bruises, Jeanine decided that she would try to keep my "lessons" down to a minimum so she wouldn't have to bother with keeping me home. Seeing my grimace, she gives me a stern look before speaking again.
"Also," she continued after clearing her throat, "Most of my co-workers know I have a 'daughter' named Tris." She put air quotes around the word 'daughter'. "So, I want you to pick a different name to go by." I looked up at her in shock. She was actually letting me pick my name. I thought back to my past life, the one I promised Jeanine I would forget. I knew what I wanted. I looked up at her, and reached for my sketch pad. I grabbed my pencil and slowly wrote down the first words I have communicated in 10 years.
Six. I want to be called Six.
She looked at me and nodded. This was new for her. Usually, she would beat me if I wanted my opinion to be "heard". I wondered if she didn't want to damage me too much before school the next day. That would probably make more sense.
I knew she thought the reason I wanted to be called Six was because June 6 was the year I started fighting, and thanks to that-which was 9 years ago-I have an undefeated record among the fighting group I belong to. I honestly don't know why Jeanine signed me up to fight. Even though I am antisocial, i love fighting and beating my opponents. I think she signed me up because she was a fighter, and she doesn't want her image ruined (despite the fact that she has only beaten 2 opponents in 20 years of fighting) and wants to seem stronger through me. However, she constantly reminds me that she is in charge of me through her beatings.
But the real reason I want to assume the identity of Six is because six was the age my life changed. That was when my entire view on the world shifted, and when my world was turned upside down.
A/N: Thoughts? First Chapter...was it okay? More of Tris's/Six's past will be revealed as the story continues. I hope you liked it and I will continue to write if I get positive reviews. If I get a lot of negative reviews, I will most likely take the story down and restart with a different structure, hopefully making it satisfactory for the people who don't like it. See you later, people! Also, does anyone want a fun fact each chapter or something along those lines? I will see what replies I get...