Before I even open my eyes, I can already feel a sense of dread in the air. Today is the day I have been dreading for such a long time, but also have been yearning for.
Pale, watery light seeps through the window. It lights my sparse room and I look around for the final time. Is this going to be my last morning in this bed? This room has been my solitary confinement for years. In the corner, stands a huge oak closet, with deep and twisted carvings and large metal handles. I have no idea why an Abnegation like us has such a marvellous piece of furniture, maybe it has something to do with him being a councillor.
Him. I don't even want to say his name. Him. Not father, not Dad, not Marcus. Nothing. He's been nothing to me, and he will never mean anything to me. For sixteen torturous years I have been at his bane, and this is my last opportunity to escape.
But seizing the freedom might not be right. Do I really want to leave everything I have here? My life, my routine, my faction? It seems alien that I could live in another faction. Abnegation, probably the strangest out of all the factions, follows such a vigorous set routine, right down to our clothing and haircuts, it seems odd to think of any other way. To be kind, selfless, not indulge in any given luxuries.
I clamber out of bed and wearily pull on my grey clothing. I didn't sleep too well last night, given the events today, but now I feel my mind racing. What if they found out?
The aptitude test flashes back to mind. I remember the simulations and how vivid they had been. Not scary of course, and even if they were, in the back of mind I knew it was a simulation. Whatever presented myself to me, I knew I could not die. I thought it was normal in everyone.
The shock of Tori, the volunteer who ran my test, when she got my test back scared me. I thought everyone knew it was a simulation? The way she hung on her words, her lips were pursed, and the quietest whisper of the word - Divergent. I'd never heard it before, despite the endless faction classes at school. She made me swear to tell anyone, lest I plummet myself into great danger, before altering it to say Abnegation. I was so stunned at the time, I should have objected. My goal was to leave Abnegation, not out of choice, but out of necessity.
Cautiously, I tread down the stairs. I pause just before I walk into the kitchen. I hear heavy breathing, and the occasional clang of cutlery on a ceramic bowl. He's in there. I inhale deeply, and walk in.
'Good morning father,' I say, standing tall. My left side throbs from the beating I took yesterday, but I ignore it. Preparation for Dauntless.
He mumbles something I can't hear. I walk over to the counter. Food? I quickly make some cereal and scoff it. I then clear up for the both of us, when he lands his hand onto my shoulder. I wince, and he turns to face me.
'Son. I hope you will not disappoint me today, like you have so many times before. It's for your own good.'
Nodding, I walk away. He mutters a curse under his breath, but doesn't pursue me.
I spend a good 20 minutes in my room, thinking and gazing at the ceiling. This is my last day here. I stand up, walk to the closet, and kick it, multiple times. I picture him there, his back bent, spittle foaming from his angry mouth and his knuckles white with pressure on that belt. I gag at the thought, and continue to kick, until I can't feel my toes.
I can hear the bus chugging along the road. I wait it's arrival, before I feel his presence behind me.
'I have to make sure my son makes the right choice, don't I?' he chuckles, but I cannot mistake that glint of threat in his eye.
We shuffle down the aisle and sit down, before lurching forward. From my bedroom window faces the Erudite faction, and I am constantly marvelled by the architecture of their buildings. Sometimes, when I was about 14, I would sneak out of the Abnegation sector, wary of the Dauntless guards who I wished to be part of, and would see the buildings for themselves. In the centre is the Hub, a colossal plinth amongst the buildings. The Choosing Ceremony will begin in under an hour.
We clamber out of the bus, and begin to walk up the stairs, sacrificing the elevator for other factions. A tsunami of grey clothing slowly trudges up the stairs in sync. It's a long climb up, and I wonder to myself, would I be fatter if I was in another faction?
My father flings the door open, and it's there. The Choosing Ceremony. The large metal bowls loom in the centre, and everyone's eyes are fixed upon them. I shuffle to the outer circle, and slot between an Erudite girl and an Amity boy. At least I am not first or last, instead sheltered.
'He can't beat you up here,' I think. Not here. He has a public reputation.
He stands in the centre of the room. He will hand the knife to us, but before, he makes a speech. It is long, slow and boring, and no one seems to be paying attention. I have my eyes fixed on the intricate flames of the lit coals. Luckily, from the angle I am at, behind is the Abnegation bowl, with lumps of jagged grey stones, so it looks like I am looking at that faction.
Across the room, I catch a girl's eye. She's younger than me, and I frown slightly at her. I recognize her somehow. She's small and willowy, and her eyes are transfixed on the ribbons of flame from the Dauntless bowl. She too, is clad in drab, grey clothing, but she's sitting in the family circle, so she's not deciding.
I get so distracted, I do not realise that his speech is over. He reads out the first name, and a plump Candor girl springs out of the line. She looks so confident, clearly knowing her faction choice. He gives her the knife, and she walks over to the Candor bowl, and we see a shower of blood droplets land on the glass.
Then, name after name, the circle gradually get's slower. Being Tobias Eaton, I have to wait a fair amount of time, so I observe everyone else. A silently weeping Erudite girl with a blue skirt looks over from bowl to bowl, before choosing Erudite again, but looks pained att her descion. A slight sigh is heard from the Erudite side of the room, and she walks out. A tall, lean Abnegation boy, James, who I know because he lives in the same street as me, gets the knife and makes a deep cut, before sprinkling his blood over Amity. A common choice really, as selfishness and peacefulness are quite similar.
Tori's words echoes in my mind. Divergent, divergent, divergent. I wish their was a faction for them, it would make my choice so much easier. A Candor girl, two places away from me, strides confidently. She takes the knife, and cuts deeply, so deeply in fact, I suspect she will need stitches, and sticks her hand straight into the licking flames of Dauntless. She doesn't flinch, I'm instead watches the flames with open, eager eyes before swaggering off. She makes it look so easy.
It's the Erudite boy next. Then me. He stumbles slowly up the steps and makes a cut. He doesn't look nervous, instead walks straight over to the Erudite bowl and he shakes little drops of blood into the water, creating a marbled effect.
'Tobias Eaton.'
I didn't tell my body to move, but I am. I stride to him, and he pokes me ever so slightly with the knife. His eyes glint with aggression, but he plasters a neutral face.
I drag the knife across my skin and walk to the Abnegation bowl. The Dauntless bowl is to my right. My breathing is shallow and the sound in the room is muffled. Stones. Fire. Stones. Fire.
With a graceful movement, my blood droplets spray over the sizzling coal.
I turn away, but I can feel the burning accusation against my skin like acid. He let's out a snarl, but it is quiet, and I think I'm the only one who heard it. The rest of the Abnegation sigh and glare at me, but none compare to what I know is racing through his mind.
The Dauntless sector, although happy to gain an initiate look disappointed, and I hear several mumble the word 'Stiff'. I am so used to name, hearing it echo down the corridors and whispered in classes. I hope my nickname will drop soon enough.
The last choice is made, Candor, and everyone slowly walks out. Candor, Erudite, Amity, Dauntless then Abnegation, who volunteer to clean up. As I walk out, I feel a tug on my shoulder.
Him.
He pushes me into a side room, and lands a slap on my face. It stings, but the adrenaline pumping through my veins helps me ignore it.
'You will pay for this, even if it's the last thing I do,' he spits, before pushing me over.
I climb up and he whispers into my ear
'I know what you are.'
