My feet trail noiselessly across the dusty path I have walked so many times before. Something bubbles in the depths of my stomach as I realize I will never have to travel down it again. I can't tell if the feeling is one of pure joy or overwhelming anxiety.
Probably a combination of the two.
As I pass the seemingly endless rows of identical gray houses, I bow my head slightly. A final goodbye to home I will never miss.
After a few moments, I lift my eyes to the back of the person's head in front of me, focusing intently on the strands of blonde hair that curl loosely around the nape of their neck. Anything to keep my attention away from the man on my right.
Even his presence, still a good five feet away, makes my throat tighten uncomfortably.
"Tobias," he says in a deep voice. A dangerous one. I quickly recognize the tone, flinching away without bothering to look up.
I know that he won't make a scene at my refusal. Not here, while there are so many others around. So I continue to stare at my feet as they drag me forward, my legs suddenly feeling like lead.
"Tobias," he says again, lower this time. It comes out like a hiss. "I just want you to know, I've already had it arranged for you to follow in my footsteps after you complete your initiation."
I know that he is referring to the Abnegation initiation.
One that I won't be partaking in.
But I am frightened, terrified even, that he will try to stop me from making the decision I've been planning for so long. So I nod. I even manage to make a small sound of agreement as he continues on in describing the duties I will be given in a short month's time.
I wonder if he knows that I've never even considered them an option. One stolen glance in his direction tells me that he's still so wrapped up in his own little world that he has no idea.
What I'm going to do today will surprise him. Catch him completely off guard.
I will be hitting him where it hurts most, and there will be no better pleasure than that.
His one-sided conversation trails off into nothingness as we, along with the rest of the Abnegation crowd we have been walking with, approach a line of busses. These will transport us to The Hub, where the choosing ceremony will take place.
Where I will leave my past behind me. For good.
As we board the bus, my father opts for a seat directly in the front. I, on the other hand, shuffle away from him, towards the back and grab a hold of the support bar for balance. I know that it would be nearly impossible for me to stay seated. My legs itch with nervous energy as they are now.
Thoughts of today's impending events race through my mind, making the trip pass by in what feels like seconds. I don't even realize that we've arrived until a larger man, that I soon recognize as one of my neighbors, bumps against my side as he makes his way to the exit.
"Tobias, let's go," my father calls. I hear a touch of danger in his words. Something that only my trained ears would catch.
I am the last one to exit the bus, putting my father and I directly at the back of the Abnegation group. He seizes this opportunity to curl his long fingers around my wrist tightly, where no one can see his movement. I gasp at the sudden pressure and my eyes round on him.
It's as if his pupils have expanded so wide that I see nothing but darkness when his eyes meet my own.
"I'm sure you will make a wise decision today when choosing," he tells me, as if it's a predetermined fact. But then he raises a single questioning eyebrow. "Won't you?"
"Yes," I respond, drawing in a shuddering breath. I try to hold his gaze as evenly as possible. "I will."
By the time we cross through the threshold into The Hub's main lobby, my father has released his grip on my arm. I can still feel it lingering though, the ghost of his touch sending shivers down my spine.
The twenty flights of stairs we must climb likely take as long as the bus ride did, but this too passes by in a blur. With every landing we pass, I swear my heart picks up its pace, and when we finally reach the top I feel as if it's about to explode.
"Choose wisely," my father reminds me again. It sounds like a threat.
But for the first time, his words don't scare me.
I nod to him as we separate, taking out respective places in the wide room, and consider that those could quite possibly be the last words he will ever say to me.
I do my best to hide my smile and look as collected as the rest of the teenagers surrounding me. However, my insides churn with nervous anticipation that I cannot suppress.
I want to get the choosing over with already.
I want to be free.
It is the Candor faction's year to conduct the ceremony, meaning that it will be their representative who gives the opening address and reads the list of names. Since they will be read in reverse alphabetical order, I know that I have some time before I am called.
I take this opportunity to survey those around me. From what I can see, they are all staring forward, listening intently to the speech being given. I wonder if any of them are considering their upcoming choice the way I am. By the placid looks on all of their faces, even if they were, I'd have to assume that it wasn't affecting them the way it has been doing to me.
Then again, I can almost guarantee that none of them have had to ensure what I have in my short sixteen years.
My eyes drift slowly over to the large bowls in the center of the room, where an Amity girl has just made the decision to leave for Erudite. I breathe out a heavy sigh.
I will not be the only transfer this year. A least one of my concerns has been calmed.
I watch carefully as the droplets of her blood splatter into the water, giving it a now slightly red hue. Slowly, I gaze into each of the other bowls: earth for Amity, lit coals for Dauntless, glass for Candor, and gray stones for Abnegation.
My eyes linger on the last – the representation of my faction. By the end of the ceremony, these stones will be speckled with rust colored blood.
None of which will be mine.
Not once do I let my eyes leave those stones, not even when the space in front of the bowl remains empty and the sight remains the same. And when another faction member does step into my line of vision, I imagine that I can see straight through them, the image of the stones engrained onto my retinas.
My impending decision doesn't waver though, no matter how long I stare. Perhaps a part of me, albeit a small one, hoped that I would lose my determination and shed my blood over the stones after all.
I was born an Abnegation and it would be selfish of me to leave. That would mean I'd be going against everything my faction supported.
And that's how I knew I no longer belonged.
The time, which had seemingly passed so quickly this morning, is dragging now. It feels like a thousand faction members are called before me, rather than just a hundred or so.
But then I hear it. "Tobias Eaton."
Did his voice suddenly get louder? Or maybe the room got quieter. Either way, it seems as if my name has been amplified, resounding in my ears and reverberating throughout my entire body.
I can't even feel my feet touching the floor as they propel me forward. I get a peculiar sensation, like I've been detached from my body and watching from somewhere else.
It doesn't feel real.
That is, until the dark haired man presses the knife into the palm of my hand.
I take it, squeezing the handle tightly to stop my fingers from visibly trembling, and in one swift motion I drag the blade across the palm of my left hand. I pause momentarily to watch the crimson blossom across my skin.
In those few seconds, I'm able to recall my entire thought process leading up to this point. I can remember carefully considering the beliefs and practices of every faction, other than Abnegation, as I tried to make my decision.
That sort of information-processing behavior would probably suit me well in Erudite. But as hungry as I am for knowledge, I know all too well that curiosity is oftentimes better hidden. The Erudite are dangerous. I can tell just by looking at them, and their leader especially. I swear that I can almost see her watching me from the corner of my eye too.
Definitely not Erudite.
The honesty of those in Candor, while annoying, is also rather frightening for me. I learned quickly, at a young age, that there are some secrets better kept hidden. And my past is never something I desire to reveal.
Amity, while peaceful, never attracted me either. Violence has always been something I aimed to escape, and yet, I truly didn't believe I would belong.
In all honestly, I'm not happy or at peace enough with myself.
This, of course, left Dauntless. But even still, I questioned whether or not I would fit in. I'd never been daring or without fear, the way they seem to be. And I wasn't sure it'd be possible to make a complete change in order to belong there.
In the last half-second that I stared down at my bloody hand, my mind then flashed to the aptitude test. I'd gotten only one result, exactly as expected.
But I'd felt, since the moment I left the test, that something wasn't right.
If my one result pointed to the faction I truly belonged in, I shouldn't even be having thoughts of the others. Not every single one of them anyway.
Faction transfers weren't uncommon. But for someone, like myself, to be torn in so many directions... it was practically unheard of.
Except, I had heard of it.
There was a word I'd heard spoken only once before, in hushed tones by my father and one of the other Abnegation leaders. The way it hung in the air amidst their conversation told me it held dangerous meanings.
And as I screw my eyes shut and thrust out my arm, I finally understand its meaning.
Droplets of blood fall rapidly, tiny bits of steam shooting up as they sizzle against the burning coals.
I'd chosen Dauntless. But even that wasn't who I was.
The hiss of the coals whispered my true identity.
Divergent.