3 years, 5 foster parents, 9 care homes and I am only 17 years old. My name is Tris Prior. My mother died while giving birth to me. My father died from a stray bullet from a police officer during a gang fight, two streets away from our flat, on his way home from work. My twin brother, Caleb, and I have no other family to live with leaving us to put our trust in social services. One way or another Caleb and I always end up back in a care home when 'we' become too much for the foster carers to deal with. When I say 'we' I of course mean myself. My brother is the perfect child; he is polite, kind, handsome and extremely intelligent. I, -on the other hand- am rude, cruel and do my best to break the laws set up to 'keep me safe'. The therapist assigned to me after my father's death seems to believe that my law breaking activities stem back to my father's cause of death: a stray bullet from a police officer's gun: that my law breaking is really my way of getting back at the people who killed my father. I disagree with that completely. I break laws because I want to. I get a thrill form it. I love the feeling of the adrenaline in my blood. I love the feeling that I could be caught at any moment. I love the thrill of the chase.

At this point in my life I have a criminal record filled with accounts of illegal drug use, forgery, vandalism, shop lifting/theft and various fights (which I won, of course).

However right now Caleb and I are on our way to a new care home I never bothered to learn the name of (lucky number 10). I can't remember the exact reason for us to be moved to a new care home, it might have been the cocaine I had under my bed or the most recent fight I got into with a few of the other girls at the care home. The fucking bitches grassed me up to Mike, the lead social worker, about the boy who left my room in the early hours of the morning. Anyway I can't remember and I don't care to be honest. The only thing I regret is the fact that Caleb has to put up with my activities that have us moved around a lot. I love my brother and I hope he knows that but I'm not like him: I don't like everyone I meet and I don't go out of my way to be kind to someone when I barely know them. I just hope that he doesn't begin to resent me for everything I put him through.

I sit in the car staring out of the window the entire ride to the new care home. Caleb is chatting to the social worker who is driving us to the care home while I stare out the window listening to my iPod. Along with my other 'lovely' personality traits I'm also not one be social. I talk to my friends and my brother but everyone else bores me to the point of considering killing myself, I've always been like that and it doesn't seem to be changing anytime soon so the new carers and care kids better get used to it… fast.

Caleb and I had to move town for this new care home so we had to leave all our friends behind. It will be easy for him to make new friends but for me it is usually much harder. When I look for friends I usually look for people who will keep me company during my law breaking activities: people I can trust won't grass me up for the things I get up to.

Through the window I can see the care home getting bigger and bigger as we draw closer to it. It is as big as a mansion and the outside reminds me of old buildings in places like the UK. Caleb and I climb out of the grey BMW as it stops in front of the building and the social worker helps us with our bags. I don't have much just a duffle bag full of clothes, pictures of my parents and Caleb, and small possessions I can't bear to give away or leave behind. In my black, skull covered rucksack is my laptop, iPad (which I totally didn't steal) and my notepad full of drawings. I like drawing: it calms me when other people thoroughly piss me off and the drawings I like the most I usually get tattooed somewhere on my body.

Sarah, the social worker who drove us here, leads us into the building and through to the office of the lead care worker. She knocks twice and pauses waiting to hear the 'okay' for us to come inside. I hear a man shout that we can come inside and Sarah opens the door for us and ushers us into the office. The walls are grey and dull, the furniture in the room is minimal with only a black desk, three white chairs (one behind the desk and two in front) and window that is small and doesn't let much light into the room. Sitting in the chair behind the desk is a good looking man with warm dark eyes, high cheek bones and a small smile on his face. Sarah tells us to take a seat in the two chairs in front of the man's desk.

"Hello Beatrice, Caleb. My name is Jack Kang but you can call me Jack. I'm the lead social worker here and I hope that you two will feel at home here." He says to us in a smooth, deep voice and I snort. 'At home' are you kidding me, we are care kids we don't have homes, that's the point of us being in care. If anyone heard my objection they don't show it and Jack continues speaking. "Unfortunately we don't have any single rooms at the moment so I'm afraid you will both be sharing. Sarah will show you Beatrice to your room on the second floor and Caleb I will take you to your room on the third floor." He says. Great, I get to share. Bloody fantastic.

We leave Jack's office and head towards the stairs; I try to grab my duffle bag that I dropped outside the door but Sarah picks it up for me and send me a small smile.

"It's ok, I've got it." She says in her high pitched voice that makes me want to cover my ears.

Caleb and I climb the stairs together with Jack and Sarah leading the way and when we reach the first landing Sarah and I begin walking down the hallway filled with doors while Caleb and Jack continue up the stairs to the next landing. I follow Sarah down the corridor and at the very end she stops in front of the last door on the right hand side. She knocks on the door twice when I finally reach her and then pushes the door open.

The walls of the room are black and the carpet is the same. There are two single beds on either sides of the room with black headboards, black pillows and duvets with red sheets. There is a desk at the bottom of the bed on the right side of the room with laptop sitting on top of it and another desk at the bottom of the bed on the left side of the room. There are two wardrobes and dressers on either side of the room next to the desks. Sitting on the bed on the right side of the room is a girl with slightly dark skin and dark eyes and short, black hair. She is about 5'2" and from what I can see has a lean, slim body. She is wearing a black crop top, (which shows the slight indentations of her abs) black skinny jeans and black Converse with white laces.

She looks up from her phone as we enter the room and looks at me briefly before returning her attention to her phone. Sarah drops my bag gently on the end of my bed and then leaves the room, leaving me to get acquainted with the girl. I drop down on my bed with a sigh and the girl looks up again and stares at me slightly before beginning to speak.

"Hiya, I'm Christina but everyone calls me Chris." She tells me.

"I'm Beatrice, call me that and I'll make you turn so many shades of black and blue you'll resemble a Duluxe colour chart." I tell her and she grins and laughs.

"Thanks for the heads up, what do you want me to call you then? Tris?" She asks and I smirk and nod my head slightly. "Well Tris, I wasn't looking forward to getting a new roommate but you seem alright so I might be able to live in the same room as you without fantasising about killing you in your sleep every night." She says with a grin and my smirk widens slightly. "Anyway I was about to head over to my boyfriend's friend's room in minute to hang out with a few of my friends, do you want to join us?" She asks me. I nod my head slightly: Chris seems alright so her friends shouldn't be too annoying so there isn't really any harm in meeting a few new people.

"Sure, but let me get out of these horrible traveling clothes." I tell her and she nods her head.

I grab a pair of ripped black skinny jeans and a tight My Chemical Romance t-shirt out my duffle bag before quickly changing. The t-shirt hugs my curves and the skinny jeans cling to my legs like a second skin. My blonde hair goes down to my mid-back and my fringe is swept across my forehead. I make sure my eye liner and mascara aren't smudged before pulling out my black Converse high tops and heading towards the door after Chris. I follow her back down the corridor and we stop in front of the third door on the opposite side of the corridor to our room. Chris knocks on the door and a boys voice shouts for us to come in.

We walk into the room which has the exact same design as mine and Chris' room and is filled with around ten people. I count five boys and five girls. Chris walks over to a boy with brown hair and eyes and a strong jawline. She sits on his lap and kisses him quickly before introducing me to the people in the room who have stopped talking and are all staring at me.

"Guy's this is Tris. Tris this is Will (my boyfriend); Four and his girlfriend Lauren; Zeke and his girlfriend Shauna; Uriah (Zeke's younger brother) and his girlfriend Marlene, Lynn, Al and Eric." Chris tells me and point to each of the people respectively. My eyes land on Eric last; he is at least 6'2" with short blonde hair, two piercings over his right eyebrow and bold tattoos over his forearms. He has a well-muscled body that is shown through his tight black shirt but that's not what catches my attention, it his eyes: cold and grey with hints of silver. I look away hoping he didn't catch me staring at him and as I look back around the room I notice that everyone is wearing black clothing.

"This might sound like a stupid question but what's with all of the black clothes?" I ask.

"It's our gang colour." The boy called Four answers me in a deep voice. He has short brown hair and brown eyes, like Eric he muscle but it's not as noticeable.

"Gang?" I ask getting slightly excited. If this is a gang, they might be into the same stuff I am. I might actually make a some friends here.

"Yeah, we're Dauntless. Black is our colour and Eric over there is leader of the gang." The boy Al answers me. I nod my head.

"What do you guys get up to as a gang?" I ask.

"You're not going to grass on us if we tell you, are you?" One of the girls asks me: Lynn.

"Please, one of the reasons I got moved here was because I got in a fight with a few girls who grassed on me." I tell them and a few of the them smile.

"Well we get up to shall we say less legal activities." Uriah says with a grin and a few of them smile.

"What do I have to do to join?" I ask them eagerly.

"Have you got a record?" Lynn asks me and I nod. "What's on it?" She asks.

"Vandalism, Fighting, Forgery, Shoplifting/Theft, Robbery and illegal drug use." I tell them with a smirk.

"I'm impressed." Four says. "So Eric is she in?" He asks Eric.

He looks me up and down; my skin feels like his eyes a burning fire along me as he stares at me. When his eyes come back up and meet mine he smirks and by god does he look hot like that.

"Tris," He says as he makes his way over to me, standing a few inches away from me. His height making him tower over me, "Welcome to Dauntless."

I hope you enjoyed this and let me know if you want more.

Please review as I love to read what you guys think about my stories.

If you have any other ideas for an Eric fanfic, let me know I love writing about him.

Until next time,

Wholocker x