Disclaimer: I do not own the Divergent Trilogy.
Prologue
TOBIAS
CHICAGO IS GROWING. A few years ago, people from the outside asked to move into our city. They were looking for resources, a stable government, and peace. Despite our efforts at the Bureau of Genetic Welfare, unrest was still present at the fringe. Mostly from Gds who were unwilling to forget the less then kind treatment bestowed upon them for so many years.
When the request was made nearly 5 years ago, our newly formed government put it to a vote and decided to let them in slowly, at a rate of just 5 people per year, so our resources wouldn't be depleted too quickly. These outsiders had to prove they could contribute to our society before they were allowed in. So farm 20 people had integrated within our city, all different ages and skill sets.
Some were builders, who set to rebuild our broken city in order to make room for growth. Some were agriculturists, increasing our food supply in order to feed the increasing population. Some were protectors, already specifically trained in combat and weapons, placed within our city and along the fence in order to keep the peace. This year, however, our government was looking for a different set of skill sets. Doctors, which we never seem to have enough of, and teachers, to train our children with the knowledge of the outside world.
Today 5 more people were chosen to integrate. Tonight, will be the Greeting Ceremony, an annual celebration the entire city has learned to look forward to. Tonight our newest citizens will be introduced and ranked, according to their skills, in front of the entire city. Afterwards, there will be drinking, dancing, and all around merriment.
I have never gone to these celebrations. This time of year holds a different meaning for me, darker and melancholy. I cannot celebrate. I cannot be happy. It is too close, almost to the day, to the anniversary of her death.
Tris.
My heart clenches as I think about her. It's been almost 7 years, and still I feel no relief from the pain of her absence. To celebrate now would be a betrayal, an admission that I am happy without her. I am not, and I have a sinking feeling I never will.