Today is the morning of the aptitude tests. Two years ago, I was seating in the kitchen, nervously staring at my breakfast, wondering what my results would be like. I had no idea what my tests results would be, but it did not really matter at the time. I knew this was my last day in Abnegation.
As much as I couldn't wait for the ceremony to come, I was angry at Marcus. Actually, angry could not even cover just a bit of what I felt. If not for him, I would have stayed in Abnegation, and I would have been happy. Of that, I am as sure today as I was two years ago. But I had to leave. To protect myself. How funny is that? Someone is convinced he belongs into Abnegation and quits that faction to save his own neck. To flee his father. Selfishness and cowardice. I might be as angry with myself now as I was with Marcus on that morning. I am as worthless of Dauntless as I would have been of Abnegation.
The aptitude test is supposed to let you know which faction you have an aptitude for. What a joke. But I am pretty sure I wouldn't have been any good anywhere else. Amity? I am too angry for that. Candor? I have too many secrets to even think about it. Erudite? They are too hungry for power for my taste. What does that make me?
"A Divergent," I mutter.
I try to push those thoughts away. They are not helping me right now, and I need to get ready. Tomorrow, new initiates will arrive at the compound, and I will be in charge of some of them. I'll get back to those thoughts after the training is done, and then, perhaps, I'll join the factionless. At least there I won't feel like I am a fraud.
Someone knocks on the door of my apartment. It's one of the assistant of the leaders, handing me a piece of paper.
I grunt. Max again. I toss the paper without even looking at it. Max has been bugging me for two years now.
My choice was clear when I graduated, and it is still the same. Power is… Damn it. Why do I always have to think about him.
But I know why. I have seen what power did to a man. I have seen my father grow from bad to worse as his place into our government grew bigger. Self-absorbed, manipulative, secretive, arrogant… I do not want to become so blind by power… I do not want to be a monster.
Like him.
I also do not want to have anything to do with the brutal leaders of our faction. My current job as an initiate instruction is technically neutral enough. The leaders set the tone for the initiations, and I work on a program within that frame.
Technically is the word that matters here. Eric, the leader most involved with initiations, is so violent that I often have to intervene to make sure nobody will get killed… too easily. And as Eric, a leader, hates me, it makes for a difficult situation. If I had accepted offers to become a leader, I would be able to defend myself better. And probably to protect the initiates better. But I would also have been the only moderate in a government full of people with a reckless, and violent notion of bravery. I would have spent my days arguing, and I would have soon found myself at the bottom of the Chasm. I do not believe the other leaders would have looked so kindly at me if they new what I really thought of their ideas.
No, I am more useful with this job, even though I have less latitude.
This job. Who am I kidding, I am only doing this a small part of the year, the rest of the time, I am overlooking security. And that job is useful for sure. But it's helpful for me and no one else. It's my emergency exit when the time comes. Selfish and coward.
I am a mess.
Only after my shower do I feel slightly more human. I do not usually allow myself this kind of thoughts, but last year was the same. This time of the year brings me back two years ago, when Marcus was still in my life. I hate it that he has that much power on me after all this time.
I breathe in and out until I push the anger away, and my usual resolve replaces it. I know I look colder when I am that way, but here, nobody cares. In Abnegation, my father would probably have beaten me for it, saying I ought to look kinder and more approachable. In Dauntless, people simply think I look fierce and respect me for it. It makes my life a lot easier.
I need to go to the Control Room. Since I am going to be training initiates for a while, someone else is going to be in charge of the computers, and I have to make sure that person knows what he's doing. I am crossing my fingers for an Erudite transfer. Faction rules state that we should leave all traces of our old factions behind, but I know better. It's impossible to completely forget what you have been taught for sixteen years of your life.
In the case of the computers, someone who knows what he is doing, or even someone who learns fast enough, would be greatly appreciated. Last year, my substitute was a Dauntless born who had only ever used a computer to look security camera. Apparently, she was really good at it, and someone higher up thought that was enough to overlook the computers taking care of security. It was a disaster. I ended up spending half of my planned sleep hours teaching her how to actually use the computers, and yet she managed to delete a whole week of security footage. Thankfully, nothing actually happened during that time frame. I'd still rather prefer not to repeat the experience this year.
I go directly to the Control Room, skipping breakfast, too anxious to see the new candidate to the job. I cannot believe how difficult if would have been to involve me in the process. Obviously, the person in charge of the task must not be qualified enough to chose his substitute.
As I walk into the room, I let out a sigh of relief. Sandra sits on one of the chairs in front of me. She is Dauntless born, but she is more than I could have hoped for. Sandra's usual job is to overlook the resources the Dauntless have access to. Food, clothing, weapons, lodging… she is responsible of the inventory, and makes sure everything is well managed. Most of her work depends on computers.
I smile at her.
"Yep," she says. "I figured after last year you would appreciate someone who has actually touched a computer before, so I volunteered for the job. I only did yesterday though, I hope you weren't too stressed out!"
"You have no idea," I laugh. "Thanks though, I guess someone had to take over your own job while you're here."
"Don't worry," she sniggered. "Finding someone for mine wasn't that hard. Everyone wants to know the details of what we have. Go figure!" She winks at me. "And I am not too worried, Mike knows if he screws up he'll end up regretting it. 'Cause I won't be only one after his life if half our stock of cake goes missing!"
I like Sandra. She is always enthusiastic, no matter what the task is. She enjoys life and it shows. She is exactly what I needed this morning.
Please, keep in mind three things.
First, English is not my maternal language, and I am using this story to improve it.
Second, THIS is my very first attempt at fanfiction or even fiction, so please, do not be too harsh. I have just popped this chapter in an hour and a half while I was slightly bored.
Finally, I know a lot of people have attempted the same thing. Honestly, after reading a few pages of them, some better than other, I realised I was often frustrated because Four was not thinking exactly what I wanted him to think... So I figured I'd better stop reading and write it for myself. (Not saying there aren't some great Four POV out there, just saying I wanted to write MY Four before I was influenced by someone else!) So I am not aiming for anything original, just aiming for loads of Four-yumminess.