I don't own Divergent
Tobias' POV:
I look at the blue statue I keep hidden in my wardrobe away from the prying eyes of my Father, Marcus. My Mother died years ago leaving me alone with my torturer. I think to myself as I get changed into an old grey shirt and slacks. For two years I have been training myself for the Choosing Ceremony. My Aptitude test is today so I am still not completely sure which faction I belong too. I am not honest enough for Candor, nor am I clever enough for Erudite. I have never really liked Amity since they are too calm, peaceful. I have always admired Dauntless with their brash actions and extreme views. Because I have made this judgement about myself I have started training myself to get strong. (Everyone knows how harsh Dauntless initiation is) I can run because, like it or not, I have been running all my life. I pick up two of my heaviest books and lifting them like weights. In the beginning I could only life the book ten times on each arm but slowly I improved so know I stop counting and just do it until my arms ache.
An hour later I have a shower and go downstairs to face Marcus. Yay.
"Aptitude test today."
"So?"
"Don't use that tone with me." I immediately shut up.
"So," he begins as if he never mentioned the previous insult, "What faction?"
"I don't know." I get up and leave the room smiling at the small rebellious action I just committed.