AN- So this is me, losing my mind. A few weeks ago, I read Divergent (yeah, yeah, about time) I fell in love with Fourtris. Just in love. I don't know why. I can't even think of another fictional pairing that has affected me? Maybe Chris and Kim from Miss Saigon? Anyway... Then I read Insurgent. OK. Then I read Allegiant. I won't go there. I needed to repair my broken heart. I turned here. I was only vaguely aware of this vast world of brave writers but I started reading. Obsessively. All types of stories. Except AU. It really holds no appeal to me. So, naturally, that's what I'm writing. LOL

Yeah. I've lost my mind. Or maybe a slightly premature midlife crisis.

Anyway...

*deep breath*

Oh! PS, you might have noticed that these characters are familiar. Yeah. I actually didn't make them up. Surprise! Veronica Roth did. They're hers, not mine.

Chapter 1.

-thinking-

I thought I was ready to fit in. To learn to be a responsible adult. Wife. Mother.

I thought that I wanted to fit in. To make my parents happy. To make Robert happy.

Now, as I feel walls closing in… I think that I was just too scared to think.

My parents' wedding clock on our mantle chimes 7. The sun is setting behind the horse shed. Mamm serenely smiles as pulls pies from the oven and watches Datt and the boys heading in. It's dinner time again. Are we always eating or cooking or cleaning up from cooking and eating? It seems so. Why can't I just be happy to selflessly nurture my loved ones like she is? It used to be fun to care for the young ones. Now they're older and the routine is just... old.

I set the last serving plates on the table as my young sister, Miriam, tucks a spoon into each one. Peas, corn, boiled potatoes, sausage, ham. I wipe my hands on the black apron that hides my navy blue dress- and my slight boyish figure- and sit down for grace. I can't help but stare at my hands folded over my apron. I remember the vain pride I felt as a grew old enough to wear the same simple full dress and black cape and apron as my mother and the teenaged girls giggling as they watched the boys. I felt honored to be a part of this tradition of practical clothes, practical rules. I felt honored when a practical boy showed interest in me. Honored and surprised. I didn't expect to be courted anytime soon, and really, our few chats couldn't be considered courting, but I know my parents have high expectations. It's no secret that Caleb, older than me by a mere 11 months, is planning to marry Susanna. Susanna who is tall and curvy, like a healthy farm girl. The kind of girl who a boy expects to be a hardworking wife and nurturing mother.

I think back to my Saturday job at the greenhouses, when my co-worker Hayley finished her break but left her magazine behind. I hear the non-Amish girls worrying about their figures and girls in magazines so I took a peek to see what their concern is. It took me a moment to see past the skimpy clothes and lacy bras that were pictured and to see the women themselves. I noticed slim waists and a few visible bones like mine, but even skinny non-Amish girls have curves. I let out a sigh. My mother looks at me sharply. Oops. I sighed out loud and interrupted a conversation between Datt and Caleb. Ughh. Marcus Eaton and his farm again. Datt wants Caleb to accept Marcus's offer for him and Susanna to live in the main house while he retires to the smaller grandparents' cottage. It seems fair after all that Caleb has done to keep his farm running after his son disappeared. I don't know what the fuss is. It's so unlike Caleb to argue with Datt but I guess Susanna really dislikes Marcus although she normally has so much respects for our community elders.

I try to listen to Caleb speak, "…don't understand myself, Datt, but Susanna went to the Elm Hill School with Tobias. She says that he was always bruised and that when she and her mother would go to his house with meals that… I don't know but he scares her…" Caleb goes on as I slip back into my thoughts. I remember the scandal a couple years ago when Marcus's son turned 16 and left his widowed father alone. We thought that he would return after a few days of fun and testing the world but he never did. Marcus's preaching became stronger after that as he advocated for youth to join the church at 16 and stay home until marriage. I was certainly convinced to shut my eyes tighter against the tempting world, which was easy in my sheltered home, but now…I'm not so sure… I think about the Saturday job that my newly married Aunt Lydia gave me at the greenhouses and the girls that I work with. Datt cautions me to avoid conversation with them but Hayley and Nora seem respectable and polite. They also seem happy and fun.

I find myself clearing the table. I don't even remember eating my meal but sure enough, it's gone. As I place the warm pies on the table, I hear a knock on the door. Datt answers it and I hear a shy voice say "Beatrice Ann". Datt exchanges a glance with my mother, and smiles at me. "Shsh. I'll get that." says Mamm as she takes the knife from my hand. I head towards the front door, pausing for only a moment. "Save some rhubarb pie for me!" I call over my shoulder, loudly. Too loudly, Caleb's expression says clearly. As Hayley would say, "Whatever." I mutter and guiltily giggle at myself.

I find Robert sitting stiffly on the porch swing and sit next to him, my bare toes tracing circles on the clean porch. At first, I smile at the welcome distraction, then I realize that it's not really a distraction at all. Didn't we just do this the other night? And isn't Robert still talking about the same thing? His dream of starting an orchard. I tune out the one sided debate on Honey Crisp apples vs Gala and bee hives and stare at the stars. I wonder about all the things the stars see as they stare back. I know that Robert means well and we've been friends for years but I don't see why that obligates me to marriage. Then again, I'm not even sure if he's actually interested in me anyway. He certainly doesn't sit like I imagine an interested person would. I think of my parents, never actually affectionate, but comfortable as they sit together. I wonder if I should have read that article in Hayley's magazine. "How to Tell if He's Into You" I start to giggle again and notice Robert looking at me oddly. Really oddly. "So, is that a yes? You want me to drive you to the singing tomorrow night?" What?! I thought that we were talking about apples! He wants to drive me to singing? Like an official couple? I hesitate. "Why of course. Ja. That would be nice." Would it? Would it be nice? I don't know but I guess I'll have to find out.

My family pretends not to notice or smile at me as I walk in. That's a relief because I can't figure out if I'm happy or nauseous. I say goodnight and head upstairs to the room I share with Miriam. After washing my face in the bowl on our dresser and changing into a flannel nightgown, I slip into our bed. Miriam sighs and pushes closer to me. I pull her thumb from her mouth; 5 years is long enough, Mamm says; and kiss her head. I think that being a mother must be a beautiful thing. Maybe that's what I want more than anything.