Zdrastvoutii! Formally meant to be taken as Hello. I give special thanks to my Papa (ima Russian :)for giving me the benefit of learning at a young age what it is to struggle without the actual pain and giving me the mental strength to sustain what I have. Also to my friends (you know who you are) who light my mixed up world to a better place. I seem like a rude person sometimes but really I easily get attention issues because my fear landscape would be to feel what it is to be alone hence the first scene.

This fanfic is dark romantic complicated and immensely related to the real world and then of course my world. I am about to go all dark on you so that is why my language at the moment is very sentimental. If you want a laugh and see how fun my personality is go read my bio. Hopefully it is posted by now. (Do it anyway after you read too.) I just need to fit the mood of my story.

In this world the government and lifestyle is the same as in Divergent, but it is just a book. Veronica Roth is like the Dan Brown of this world and everyone is debating on whether or not this is realistic fiction of not of if the government actually has issues. Roth also has AMAZING lawyers in this world so she is okay and there are too many protestors and fans anyway.

Daria also has NOTHING TO DO WITH ME! Dasha is to Daria as Katya is to Catherine. Also the meaning is the same but the character is only made quincedense in my brain! If you compare her to me in any way I will kill her off and make her sister die of angst thus ending the story so ha!

Disclaimer: If you want Divergent go read it. I won't tell you my last name but it's not Roth and if it was I would deem myself to be more amazing then I admit.

Chapter 1: Facts I Dare to Infer: Deepest Thoughts

I
am
angst
black
torturous
masked by my own will
DARKNESS...
is what I am and what I see. An illusion, excruciating pain; I suffer, yet I hide and bring myself to feel "normal" towards the people I love for their sake. I am the ultimate sacrifice and inside I belong among the mentally unstable. People in my life don't know this. They don't have to, need to, want to. Even the closest people fail to validate and infer to the fact that I think things I wish I could undo.

I lead a normal Erudite life. Sometimes I am the top of the class but then my insanity peaks out a little and I fall back. I feel like black I feel like light. According to the hollowed out "professionals" it's normal to question myself and feel angst; at least during their class lectures about the sentimentality in "growing up books

"Do I over think? Does my mind need therapy? It does. My thinking brought me to this place. I've always called it "≈." Just the symbol. I only think about it, never say it aloud to anybody anyway. I don't need a distinct word for it. That what my once young mind came up with, too scared to give it a name.

I was in a dark space. No chill, warmth. I feel a hand. Strong, caring. My hair falls in my face. It's short and curly with a constant frizz.
Then colors swirl and a warm feeling comes. Then I remember. I...don't ...have...a..lover. I burst. My body shakes as if I had lost something dear, I cry but feel nothing but warmth on my shoulders. The hand disappears. The soothing colors once again switch to black. The color I despise most.
The space begins to shrink, though there is no perspective or angle, shadow or dimension to distinct as such surroundings to "move." I was scared. Scarred. I wanted out. "But this is a dream, yours I recall." the demon voice wailed in my ears which then began to ring. I felt frail. Useless. Clueless.
No one knew about this place. Who needed to? Why were my thoughts so against it. Is that the only thing I couldn't figure out? I was frightened. My stomach churned. I was back in my room staring at my wall, being scolded for daydreaming. But WAS it a dream at all?

"Calista. Gosh what is it with you and you excruciatingly tedious task of purposefully and freely deciding to corrupt distract yourself and mind from your work by daydreaming?" said my mother with an exceptional level of disgust in the word "daydreaming ".

Of course being me I instantly slapped back to the "intelligent prodigy shining in the back of her name and in the constant habit of success" (Aristotle said success was a habit) according to my teacher. The name "Calista" means "most beautiful " while my sister is "Daria " which simply means "beautiful" so I am supposedly supposed to be superior since I am apparently the "most" of something. Daria is actually very much an equal to me in my sense of perspective and we are practically the same except for the fact that she can focus. She is a very successful type who is now twenty and has a big government job and is about to move up to a higher ranking, but she also wasn't one to influence me very much, but regrets are beginning to occur about that. "Calista" is a name usually portrayed as super skinny, smart, ginger with ravishing looks who obsess over love and attention. That is all untrue except for the skinny part.
I have been pondering much too long for the moment to last and I quickly said "I was inferring on the ravishing fact that I have a denial with my teacher who fails to see the perspective of my very much successful type of signature with a skinny point on the end." I face slapped myself on the inside realizing that I did it again and lied to myself and my mom and I also just used the same words as in my pondering, making my sentence seem misleading with no sense.
"O okay " cheerified my mother. I smiled to myself, "cheerified " is always the word for mother.
"So consider yourself prepared to be ready with undoubting beaming confidence and focus with what you will do which is walk out that door and portray yourself with complete content in your hand-cutting into the Erudite bowl "
I scowled on the inside. I knew I shouldn't complain she is the parent. I am the child. Of course her expectations lie in the first and best sign of succession for me. Well I am selfish and am a total "hollow-head " (crude term used in Amity to refer a dumb ignorant person. Treated as a swear) I know it is wrong not wanting to improve myself but this world no longer needs a hero. Veronica Roth made a big enough mess as it is and the only hero out there has to be the Erudite to sweep everything up and take away the propaganda. What am I saying? Tris is my role model this is only the Erudite side of me that strives to be a prodigy only because that is what I am expected to do. But I am not Erudite . I am the deep darkness within.

O my gosh. If you read this far without putting your reading device down you have passed the test. I know I'm writing about a world with a contriversal book and add more controversy to this world out of my own intrest but this is my imagination so don't judge me unless of course you have something nice to say, the comment button is below ^.^ I wanna know if my magicalness of beuatiousness turned out to me magical for someone cus that's ma job. Kks. Love ya. (notice my use of ≈ everywhere. It is a mathematical symbol that represents about which is very meaningful toward sthe story because its just a bunch og teens with questionable issues)

≈Zaikin is Dashachan