I love the color blue.
Blue is the color of my mother's beautiful eyes.
Blue is the color of the mayonnaise I use for my sandwiches, which my mother makes for me using food dye.
Blue is the color of my nails, at the moment.
When everything else in my faction is normally black and white, except for the occasional bright red lipstick on some women, it's nice to see the color blue specifically. It stands out.
I stand out.
Without the color blue.
I hate it. I'm awkward and weird. I fumble and stutter and trip over my own feet. I blush.
A lot.
Being weird makes people laugh though. At the expense of my embarrassment, I can make others happy and smile and laugh.
Being weird makes my mom happy.
Even though she can't walk or run or stand.
Or dance.
She used to dance a lot, my mom. She was a beautiful and graceful dancer.
You would think with all the technology they have now, they could fix it. And they could have, if they had gotten to her in time.
I guess you could blame my father for that. I won't call him my dad.
We were sitting on our balcony. I was only ten. My father had just gotten in a serious argument with my mom. She looked at me with solemn blue eyes.
Blue.
Is nothing like the color red.
I saw red on his face, and in his eyes. I saw red around the whiteness of the knuckles in his fists.
He punched her.
Red gushed from her nose and busted pale lips.
Red.
I hate the color red.
While she was leaning against the railing of the balcony, he stomped closer to her. He grabbed her by her white blouse, stained with red, and lifted her up with both hands.
And threw her off the balcony.
She laid there, on the ground, for two days. He wouldn't let her leave, not like she could if she wanted to. Eventually the neighbors saw her, and reported the incident. My father lied, leading him to being exiled and becoming factionless. I was the one who told the truth against him, even though he threatened me.
Mom was still Mom.
She didn't change. She looked at the bright side, now she was away from him. She could still use her arms, thankfully. And we lived happily together, just us two.
Just us two.
But this isn't where I belong.
I don't belong with black and white and complete honesty. My mind is corrupted by the incident with my father. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't change it. I was helpless when mother was nearly killed. I don't want to be helpless or weak.
I want to be brave.
Mom knows this. She knows that I was meant for more than here, Candor. She's scared, but I think she trusts my decision.
"Eileen", she said. "Don't stay because of me. I'll be okay. I want you to do what feels right to you." I know that she is being honest.
She doesn't know my test results.
The Dauntless lady told me not to tell anyone. I thought it was still a part of the test, so I told her that I was going to tell everyone the truth, because I thought that was what I was supposed to do in the test. Until she convinced me that I was no longer in the test. How embarrassing. I almost got myself killed.
My results were:
Candor, Dauntless, Amity.
But I know I'm not meant for Candor or Amity, and even though Erudite's color is blue, I am not meant for that either. I know for sure what I was meant to be.
Brave.
And as I look into my mother's eyes as we are seated amongst the rest of the Candor at the choosing ceremony, I am reminded, that she loves me no matter what. At that moment, one thought makes my eyes water with the emotional surge and courage I feel.
God,
I love the color blue.