"Some days, I feel everything at once. Other days, I feel nothing at all.

I don't know what's worse: Drowning beneath the waves or dying from the thirst."


Audrey

-1-

"You are a disgrace to your family!" Dominic shouts at me. "You are selfish, and you disgust me." He spits on my face, as he leaves the room, allowing me to lie on the ground, covered in my own blood.

Dominic is my father, but I don't call him that, he's no father to me. He has been beating me for the last decade, since my mother died 11 years ago, from my father. Yet he still blames me for her death. Why? I've been asking myself the same thing from the minute he first accused me.

I try to lift my body off the ground, but to no avail, because my arms crumple from underneath me, and I splash in the blood.

I cry out, praying he can't hear me. I try, and try again to remove myself from the tile.

I tell myself to count to three, and when I am done, I will push past the pain, and move on.

One. Agony shoots down my arm.

Two. My head spins, and I feel like I might faint.

Three. I push up, and bite my lip, holding the scream I know is coming.

I manage to sit up, and lean against the fridge. I only rest on my head, because Dominic had whipped me with his belt. I quickly look over my injuries.

My arm is bruised in several places, as well as cut open.

My back hurts like hell, and I clench my eyes shut. I stand, and hobble over to the bathroom.

I carefully get undressed, making sure not to twist my body too much. I wash all of my cuts, wincing as I pass over them with the rag.

I start a shower, making sure it is steaming. I grab a fresh rag, and put it in my mouth the muffle my screams, as I step into the water. Seconds go by of screaming in torture. But the hot water helps numb my back eventually.

As I let the water flow over my old, and new wounds, I try to think of what happened for me to get this particular beating.

Oh, yeah. An old lady was struggling with her groceries, and I was still sore from last night's beating. So the old lady went into her house before I could help her. And I guess Dominic didn't understand.

He never does, anyway.

But a light shines in my head, and I remember that tomorrow is my tests, to decide if I stay in Abnegation with him, or I can escape, and leave this life behind.

I smile to myself, and get out of the shower. My back still feels like someone slammed me with a hot pan - which I have felt before, thanks to my no-good father - but it has numbed down a little. I throw on a pair of baggy slacks, and an oversized sweater.

I limp to the kitchen again, and go to the closet. I pull out the mop and bucket, and fill it with soapy water.

After cleaning my blood, I tip-toe up the stairs, and into my bedroom. I gently lay on my stomach, and cry into my pillow.

I soon cry myself into a deep sleep.


I wake up the next morning in the same place as last night. I dress myself, and trudge downstairs.

Oh, crap. I see Dominic sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of coffee. He doesn't look up, but I can tell he knows I'm here.

"Go make breakfast, girl." He booms, confirming my suspicions. I nod, and walk to the fridge, pulling out eggs.

I make traditional Abnegation scrambled eggs, and pour myself some milk. I lightly sip on it, as I hand him the plate of eggs.

He rips it from my hands, and I stand, finishing my own plate. Dominic starts to talk, but I don't listen to him, and get lost in my own thoughts.

"Do you understand what to do?" he says, snapping me out of them.

"Uh, y-yes, sir." I stammer, and silently curse myself for not listening to him, then lying about it.

"Good." He hits me on the back, and I stumble forward, nearly dropping my glass. He just laughs, and walks out the door.

I cry to myself once he's gone, and in the midst of tears, I promise myself.

I will not stay with this monster.

I look up to the mirror, and take in my reflection. The rules say that you can look in the mirror on the second day of every third month, but I haven't' even glanced in ours for over four years.

I immediately see a difference in my face, my cheeks have sunken in a little, most likely from lack of food, from being trapped in the closet so many times. My hair has grown, and gotten frizzier. It reaches my hips, and it's a dark brown, almost black.

My eyes have always been big for my head, and they're a deep chocolate brown, like his.

Freckles dot my nose and cheekbones, my skin pale. My nose is average, nothing special.

I'm just a forgettable face.

I lower my eyes, and bow my head. I stare down at the scissors in front of me, and I grab them.

I take hold of them, and get to work. When I'm done, my hair is just above my elbows. I haven't cut my hair, since … well, the last time I looked in a mirror.

I twist up my hair, and secure it with bobby pins. It has become a second nature to me, I can do it without a mirror, but I find it comforting today.

I'm ready. I look at myself one last time, before shutting it closed.


I wake from the test, my hands are shaky, and I'm out of breath. My heart is racing, and my head is cloudy.

The test administrator, Six, she calls herself, looks at me as if I am about to attack her.

She shoots up, dragging me to the exit. "Do you remember everything from that test?"

I nod, because I do. I picked the knife and the cheese, feeding the dog the cheese, and killed it when it ran after the girl. I told the man on the train I didn't recognize the murderer on the newspaper, even after he said it would save him.

"What did I get?" I ask, and for some reason, I'm scared to know the answer.

She stands up straight. "Abnegation." I look down, and I feel my heart drop. It can't be true, I can't be Abnegation. "And Amity, and Dauntless."

My eyes snap up to meet hers, and she has the matching fear in her eyes.

She grabs my arm, and I try not to grimace, although I fail. She notices, but doesn't press.

"Look, you can't tell anyone about this. It's extremely dangerous. You need to hide inside a faction where they can't find you."

My mind is buzzing with questions. "Why? Why would I need to hide? And who do I have to hide from?" I ask frantically, and she just shakes her head.

"I'm sorry, I can't say anymore." She says quietly. "But you do need to know what you are."

I stare at her, I thought I was a who, not a what, although Dominic has proven me wrong several times.

"They call it Divergent." She says the last word so quietly I almost miss it, but I definitely heard it, as it's echoing in my head. "Now go, I'm going to manually enter you as Abnegation. Go home, and if anyone asks, the serum made you sick."

I nod, and stand half way out the door, and Six walks back to the computer, typing on the keyboard.

"Six," I ask, and she turns to face me. "Why are you helping me?"

She shrugs, and smiles a little. "Maybe I like to do the right thing sometimes."

I take that as my cue to leave.

Walking home took up the rest of the school day, which is what I was planning for. If I got home before I was supposed to, Dominic would throw a fit.

But he was home before I was, which was surprising, considering he always works late on Wednesdays, which are ironically his worst days.

I cautiously step in the door, waiting to see the nightmare. He rushes up to me, and says, "What did you get?" He speaks quietly, which isn't good at all. Like the calm before a storm,

"A-Abnegation, sir." I stutter. It's half-true, at least.

"Good. Did you do what I told you?" I nod my head, and curse myself again, for not listening to him. Hopefully it wasn't a chore.

He leaves the house, most likely to go to his meeting, and I sigh in relief.

I change into my pajamas, and fall asleep, ready for the next day.


As I stand in line at the entrance of the Hub, I hear and see many things.

The Amity are singing, and playing hand games. Some are laughing, and others greeting with hugs, and loud calls.

The Erudite play flashcards, quizzing each other on the String Theory. A lot are arguing about weird educational topics, while some stand, eyes glued to their books.

Candor loud-mouths are debating, like the Erudite, but they do it much louder, and insulting each other while they do so.

Us Abnegation just wait around, occasionally making small talk, and offering to help other people.

Then I hear what I've been waiting for. The train blows its horn, announcing its arrival. I turn to see them.

As the train slows down, young men and women hurl themselves from the moving cars. Some drop and roll, others landing on their feet, and running a few steps to regain their balance. A man slings his arm across a girls, and they laugh.

My chest aches from jealousy, and I face forward. I stand for maybe 10 minutes before everyone starts to file into the main room.

As I enter, my breath escapes. The room is huge, seating a couple hundred people from each faction. I take my seat, and no one sits near me. That's fine, I tell myself.

Dominic walks onto the stage, and I can feel the hatred and anger coming off my body. He wears his mask, the mask everyone sees as a kind, thoughtful leader.

I hate his mask.

He begins his speech about the factions, and how we should choose what is right for us, blah blah blah.

I hear a name called, Jillian Zane, and the Candor steps up, and spills her blood into the glass. The rest of the Candor cheer, and welcome her back to her seat.

I don't remember hearing the other names, but my head pounds at one.

"Audrey Henderson." I stand shakily, and walk up to the stage.

I accept the knife from my father's hands, and I step up to the bowls. I bring the knife across my palm, and allow the blood to collect.

Without thinking, I stretch out a hand. Time seems to slow as I watch the red liquid drip off my hand, and into the bowl.

The sizzling of the coals echoes in the room for a mere second, before the word, "Dauntless." squeaks out of Dominic's mouth.

The Dauntless pound their feet, and clap their hands, and I push myself forward to join them.

I am free.