Ever since I was a small child I was able to predict the most probable outcome of my aptitude test results. It seems bizarre now, whilst I'm sitting here, writing this in my shadowy apartment, dressed from head to toe in a harsh black uniform, various pieces of metal piercing my features and my hair bleached a shocking blue, that I could of ever of been anything other than Dauntless. Despite growing up in the peaceful atmosphere of Amity, I had never felt as though I belonged alongside this harmonic creatures whom valued friendship, kindness and of course, most of all, peace. The sickly sweet wholesomeness of my surroundings had always felt more than a little suffocating to me. The whole nature of my original faction seemed unnatural, and made me spend my younger years feeling uncomfortable and out of place. So on the year I turned sixteen, and the day of the annual aptitude test finally arrived, you can imagine my excitement, and my relief.
In spite of my forthright attitude and daring nature, I still, to this day, do not believe my Mother and sisters believed I would choose any other faction than the one I had belonged to for the first sixteen years of my life. When I was thirteen, my father died in a traffic accident. His job was to deliver the farming crops to a from the city, and one day that spring, he suddenly lost control of the trucks steering wheel and collided with a mass of oncoming traffic. Amity's head doctor, who is in charge of the primary care of all of the factions sick and injured, told my mother that he had died instantly. There was nothing they could of done to save him. Since that tragedy, I think my mother had come to believe as a family, we had become closer than ever before, despite the fact my eldest sister Hope, moved out of our home to start a family with a local farmhand just a little after a month following the event. For some reason, since my father's passing, my ma's faith in Amity's beliefs were as strong and restored as they ever had been. A lot of women would of just given in, would of lost all faith and drained all remaining optimism from their minds, especially if these women were just as besotted by their partners as my mother was with my Da. However, ma took my father's death as a lesson, not a setback, learning not to take life for granted, and to treasure every ounce of positivity thrown upon us.
This all may seem very well, but my ma's optimism came with its setbacks. Sometimes, I feel as though she was so intent on remaining happy and at ease, she could see no wrong, even when wrongs desperately needed to be seen. On the morning of the aptitude test, I remember her braiding my hair, pressing it neatly against my exposed neck, humming a familiar tune that the Amity would often sing whilst picking apples in the orchards. It was as though she was completely oblivious to my extreme differences in comparison to my sisters.
Hope, twenty three and the recent mother of a bouncing baby son, had always been a gentle and kind soul. Ma often would say that if she was not devoted to the Amity, she could easily fit in with the Abnegation, as she is naturally selfless and keen to please. In fact, leaving my mother to marry Joseph, the shy fresh faced farmhand a few doors down, shortly after Da's death was possibly the most selfish thing Hope has ever done to date. Back then, she always used to leave her golden fountain of hair loose, so it blanketed her body from neck to breastbone, often tucking a freshly picked flower for decoration behind her ear. She spent most of her days perfecting being the best housewife she could manage, which, admittedly, was a very sufficient one. She lived, and I suspect she still does, just a street away from our home, and visited almost every day, stacks of delicious baked goods in one arm, and my Nephew, baby Nile, cradled securely in the other.
My other sister, Harmony, is a little more extravert than Hope, but still as peaceful and calm as her namesake implies. She is three years my senior, therefore nineteen at the time, and the definition of a typical hippie. Back then, she wore her hair in neat rows of little plaits, held together by masses of tiny coloured elastic, her natural amber shade enhancing her appearance drastically, and spent most of her free time strumming away at my father's old acoustic guitar down in the orchards, composing soft, melodic tunes with the most basic of keys he taught her as a child, writing overly depressing and overly descriptive poetry or painting with vibrant paints on ivory canvases that stood on the art easel on our front porch. She had a part time job helping her friend run her market stall in Amity town centre, but was also at the time just beginning training to become a guidance councillor. Harmony's ambitious attitude and open mind makes her relatively more interesting than Hope, yet not at all any less Amity. I, however, Hanna Herthrow, the third and final daughter of Henrietta and Jacob Herthrow, could not be any less Amity. Quick tempered and unforgiving, I had always been the 'troublesome' child. For as long as far back as I can recall I would be regularly be scolded for my boisterous approach, lectured about my hot head and impulsive attitude. Being injected with peace serum and being fed extra servings of the bread the serums purposely riddled with. As I got older, and especially since the passing of my father, I had became even more rebellious and chaotic, smoking cigarettes in the orchard and sneaking past the gates and in to the almost always forbidden city, flirting with the farmhands and purposely intoxicating with myself with the serum in order to obtain that exhilarating buzz, and of course, I was reprimanded as harshly as the Amity allow, but, after several meetings with an aggravating councillor, a man named Bill with beady blue eyes and a scarlet face, it was concluded that nothing could be done to divert my behaviour to the standard Amity expects. I am sure everybody in the faction knew by the time I turned sixteen, I would be long gone, racing around wildly with the Dauntless, jumping off trains and flying from rooftops, every apart from my mother, of course, whom had blinded herself from the thought of such shame. She always had a particular distaste for the dauntless. Called them reckless and stupid, the exact opposite of the bravery they claimed to represent. As I stare at myself in the mirror before me, my auburn locks twisted tight, my spring green eyes glistening with anticipation, I say a silent sorry to my mother, whom is now putting the finishing touches to my hairdo, tidying the braid and tucking a flower, sunset orange and fully blossomed, behind my ear. Once I let my conflicted blood sizzle with those dauntless flames tomorrow, there is no going back.
My mother presses a soft kiss on my cheek as I go to leave for the bus stop. "Good luck, Hanna. You'll do just fine, I know it." She puts her pale hand to my breast bone, shoots me with her most sincere and hopeful look, and turns away from me, back into the front room, before I can even issue her any warning. I sling my rucksack that is slumped in the hallway over my shoulder, slip on my sandals, and make my way to the bus stop. Jenny, my best friend since kindergarten, is propped against the wall of the stop, engrossed in her book, as per usual. Just as I had always been intent on Dauntless, Jen had always been determined that one day she would become part of the Erudite. In fact, that was the very thing that had always bound us together, we had both always stood out like a sore thumb. Because of Amity's easy going atmosphere, rarely anybody is keen to leave, and when they are, attention is certainly drawn to the unlucky individuals. From what I knew of, Jenny and I were the only obvious ones to me transferring in our year group, though of course I knew it would not just be us changing factions, choosing day is always full of surprises. "Hey!" I call out to her, startling her and making her jump in reaction. I let out a hearty laugh. She could be such a geek at times. "It's not funny." She groans in response, though I know the amused smile playing on her lips means that she's only pretending to be annoyed at me. I throw her back my most mischievous grin, ready to playfully taunt her some more, just as the familiar apple red school bus pulls in to the stop. The mass of colourfully dressed Amity kids ahead of us immediately file on to the bus. Jenny and I follow, taking our usual seat at the back. We usually take turns in who gets the window seat, and seeing as today is Monday, it is my turn, however, Jenny's family were just as oblivious to her plans to transfer as my own, and it was evident she wasn't as relaxed about this revelation than I was, so I usher for her to sit down. She throws me a grateful grin in thanks. "Hey, perhaps I could be abnegation instead!" I joke lamely, pulling my knee's to my chin and embracing them tightly. Jenny lets out a strained giggle. We spend the rest of the journey in silence.
The school is just how it always is. Swarming with adolescents from every faction; Abnegation, Candor, Amity, Erudite and Dauntless. The day doesn't seem any different to any other, however, of course, it couldn't be more dissimilar. Me and Jen dart through the crowd, her icy fingers locked around my wrist, as we make our way to our lockers. I am searching for my geometry book when I feel those very fingers tap my shoulder. Jenny's childlike face is streamed with tears, and her bottom lip is trembling furiously. Without thinking, I pull her in to a fierce bear hug, stroking her soft, straw like hair with the palm of my hand, unaware of how typically amity I must seem. The jeers coming from the mouths of some Candor boys brings me back to reality. I pull my friend away from me and hold her at arm's length. "Don't cry. Okay? It's going to be fine." I say, more demanding her to be okay than reassuring her. Never less, the approach seems to work, as Jen nods feebly and begins to re gather the books I notice that blanket the floor behind her.
Somehow, I manage to make it through faction history, double chemistry and geometry without falling asleep. Though I would never admit it, even to this day, the fear of the next couple of days had forbidden me to sink in to oblivion last night, and therefore I was in desperate need of rest. I stupidly hoped perhaps I'd be able to take a nap when our year filed in to the cafeteria to wait for our tests after lunch, however, it is too noisy to even hear what Jen is mumbling about, let alone to completely switch off my mind for a little while. Instead, I follow Jen and a couple of other girls from our year over to one of the benches laid out for us. Vaguely familiar figures dressed in our required colours, yellow and red, are already sitting at the bench, chattering excitably. On the flooring area to my left, a group of giggling females are playing pointless hand clapping games. Jen and I do nothing.
She is called a little before me, by an elderly abnegation volunteer dressed in trademark gray. Without her I feel lost. Alone in this battle of confusion. What will I do if the results don't come back dauntless? What will I do if they do? How would my mother react when she discovers my betrayal? Will she forgive me? Will I even care if she doesn't? What I said to Jen on the bus was most definitely a joke, I could never in a million years be abnegation…"Hanna Herthrow." I force myself to stand upright. Its as though my blood and organs have been replaced with lead, I feel so heavy and moving is so much effort, but it's not as though I have much choice in the matter. A volunteer from abnegation, this time a young man dressed in a gray sweatshirt, leads me and several other various faction members through the door and down a narrow hallway. Behind the cafeteria waits ten rooms, each separated with not the commonly used glass panes, but mirrors. As I stumble in to the second room, I think I catch a glance of Jen exiting one of the rooms further down, but I am to unfocused to be sure. Waiting for me inside the room, is a middle aged man, dressed from head to toe in Erudite blue. He flashes me a humble smile and indicates for me to lie down on the metallic chair, hooked to a humming machine, in the middle of the room. Mirrors blanket each wall, forcing me to look at my disorientated reflection. I am embarrassed by how scared I am. "I'm Harrison, I'll be administrating your test today." The man in blue says to me, as he writes something down on his clipboard. Evidently noticing the fear coating my face, he quickly adds. "Don't worry, it doesn't hurt." I swiftly nod, keen to show that I am not afraid as I may seem. Harrison smiles at me again as I begin to hoist myself on to the chair. He then attaches an electrode sprouting from the machine to my forehead, and then another. He then attaches one to his own, and reaches for vial of clear liquid balancing on a small table next to the machine. "Drink this, okay?" I nod again. I shouldn't ask questions if I'm not sure I want to hear the answer. Within seconds, I allow myself to be taken.
Occasionally, when she had self meditated with peace serum with her friends down at the orchard, Harmony spoke about her own aptitude test exspirence with me. "No two tests are the same, they change every year, just in case information about the stimulation is leaked." She'd explain. "They don't want you to be to prepared. The idea is to put you on the spot, so you can improvise. " This revelation aggravated me, because I like to be well prepared and organised. However, no amount of information about the test could of prepared me for what was to come.
I find myself thrown in to a rocky wasteland, high above in the mountains. In front of me, balancing on one of the rocks, lay three objects; a rope, a sword and a hunk of red meat. "Choose." Soothes a female voice from somewhere behind me. Immediately thinking dauntlessly, I grab for the sword. As I do so, the rope and the hunk of meat vanish. And then I hear a scream. I can tell it had came from down below, a significant amount downwards from where I am standing, and can identify that the owner of this scream is deeply scared. "Hello? Is anybody down there?" I yell to the wind, listening to the boom of my echo that the sky throws back at me. Another scream. This time sharper and seemingly more pained. "Where are you? I need to know where you are so I can…" And then I hear an almighty growl, so powerful I feel the impact of it vibrating beneath my feet. Somebody is being attacked. Without anticipating for another second, I begin to grab hunks of jagged rock in my hands and carefully climb downwards. Within minutes, I spot them. I don't know what I expect, perhaps a hungry wolf, a clumsy brown bear, but definitely not what I actually see, which is a young man, who doesn't look much dissimilar to my brother in law, dangling a small child by her feet from the cliffs edge.
I don't stop and think about what to do next, which I suspect an Amity would be expected to do, but instead charge towards the man at full force. "Let her go!" I yell. The man sneers and releases a cold cackle. The echoes of it suffocate me. Infuriated, before I know what I'm doing, I am plunging the steel sword in to the man's calf, causing him to let go of the child. Somehow, she manages to hook one of her feet on one of the rocks, but it's evident she will be unable to hang on for much longer. Instead of gasping in horror or crying out, I dash to the cliffs edge and grab the child's leg, hoisting her weight upwards and over my shoulder. When her body is out of danger, I carelessly slam it back on to the rocky surface, exhausted. Completely forgetting her attacker is still very much alive…The man pulls the sword from his calf and charges at the child, I go to stop him, running at his chest and planning to tackle him to the ground, but before I know it, he is plunging the sword in to the child's breastbone, and there is nothing I can do. Nothing I can do but watch as he removes the life from her. I do not cry. I do not feel guilty. I feel saddened, of course, she was only a child, but there was nothing I could do, there was no way I could of stopped him…
When I wake up back in the stimulation room, the electrodes have been removed from my forehead and I see Harrison in the line of my vision, hurriedly scribbling away on his clipboard. When he see's I am awake, he puts the clipboard on the table and flashes me a congratulatory smile. "There's no doubt about it. You're as dauntless as anything." He says, patting me gently on the shoulder. I beam back at him, the relief flowing in to my blood stream, unclenching the tension that had been building up inside me for all those years. "I go out the front door, right?" I ask, as composedly as I can muster in such circumstances. Harrison nods, and holds the door for me as I leave.
Jen is sitting crossed legged on one of the benches when I re-enter the cafeteria. Her strained and perplexed expression immediately indicates her own test didn't go as successfully as my own. "What's up?" I ask, taking a seat next to her, attempting to act concerned and serious, when all I really wanted to do was scream with excitement. "I got Amity." She whispers.
"What? Are you being serious Jen, why? How? I mean, you were made for Erudite…"
"Obviously not." Jen snaps back at me. "I don't know what I was supposed to do to that man in order to seem intelligent, but obviously trying to reason with him was certainly not it." I could see how Jen may think that strategy was clever, but if you think about it, it is a very reasonable and calm way to approach the situation, I don't tell her this though. "Aw, Jen, I'm sorry." I say lamely. "It doesn't mean you still can't pick Erudite though…" Jen shrugs sharply, which I knew from spending many years in her company, is an indication she doesn't want to take this conversation any further. So I don't. But I don't try and start up a new one, because I can't possibly think of anything else other than the latter in that moment. Me, Hanna Herthrow, Dauntless.
About half way through the so far peaceful bus journey home, Jen finds her voice, and begins to subject a petty little rant, disrupting my bliss. I mean, I know she must be pretty cheesed off she didn't get the result she wanted, but it wasn't like it was my fault that this had happened. In fact, she hadn't even asked once about how my own test went, just assumed she was the only one who had something to complain about. I mean, she was, my test went as well as I could of ever wished for, but still, it would have been nice to of been asked. I tell her this, when she is just starting to foolishly poke fun of the Erudite for making such an inaccurate test, and I cannot take her tiresome grumbling any longer. "How dare you speak to me like that, you know nothing, just because your test went to plan…" She fires back.
"You don't know that though, do you? You never asked, not once." I say, raising my voice and causing a few turning heads. "Oh shut up, Hanna, everybody always knew you were made for dauntless, you're far to attention seeking to belong anywhere else…" I get up from my seat then, certain if I stay any longer I will have no control over my actions. My cheeks burn fiercely as I pick up my rucksack and move down towards the front of the bus, after giving her the middle finger, of course. We are only a few streets away from our stop, and I can't deny I began to feel a little regretful. If I could of kept my temper for a couple more minutes, then perhaps I wouldn't of made a significant, and perhaps unfixable, dent in my one and only friendship. Not that it matters, not now. Not now that this time tomorrow, I will be in dauntless headquarters, and unlikely to ever even hear her name again, let alone see her. Besides, since she has been informed is best suited to Amity, her appeal to me was fast fading. Now she wasn't an outcast like myself, as cruel as it sounds, Jen sort of became just like every other kid in my year group.
Harmony is on the deck, splashing paint on to a canvas when I arrive home. When she sees me, her eyes immediately light up, and she is quick to gather me in her lanky arms. Amity's tradition to hug as a way of greeting had always been one of the things I loathed most about the faction, however, in that moment I was so thrilled, for once I welcomed my sisters embrace. "So…how'd it go?" She asks when she's finally finished with squeezing me to death. "Fine." I reply, suddenly reluctant to discuss the test with my family, and aware that it is very much against the rules to give too much away. "Fine? Is that it? Come on, give me some more descriptive vocabulary!" I laugh at her eagerness. "We're not as good with words as you, Mony. " I tease, scooting past her in order to reach the front door.
Inside, my mother sits in her arm chair, feet curled in to her rear and arms crossed to her lap. Hope is perched on the sofa, baby Nile gurgling cheerfully on her knees. A pot steaming puffy grey clouds, probably containing my mothers favourite herbal tea, is positioned in the middle of the coffee table, next to a china yellow plate, which my mother only uses for the most special of occasions, holding row upon row of neat little cakes. I try and ignore the pang of guilt that aches in the pit of my stomach. "Here she is!" I hear ma say as I cautiously make my way over to them. Nile gives me a gummy grin as I take my seat next to him and his mother on the sofa. "Is this all for me?" I say eventually, determined to break the uncomfortable silence. My mother nods eagerly. "Of course, silly! Who else would it be for?" I give an casual shrug, which somehow manages to trigger ma to erupt in a fit of ridiculous giggles. I just smile simply though, because I don't want to hurt her anymore than I have to already. "Thank you, it's lovely." I say quietly, whilst allowing Nile to play violent games with my fingers. "Nile, stop that, for goodness sake!" Hope raises her voice, frustration foreshadowing her face. It is not very often my eldest sister gets angry, so when she shows even the littlest glimpse of aggravation, people tend to be a little taken aback. "Would you like some bread, Hope?" I offer cautiously.
"No, I'm quite all right thank you, Hanna." My sister replies, a little more calmed. The atmosphere in the room that day was so out of the ordinary. Usually, my family home was full of life and laughter. Nobody was ever afraid of one another, and the only times voices were raised were to demonstrate our happiness. However, that afternoon, it seemed as though there was some sort of elephant in the room, some sort of secret that Hope and mother knew that I didn't, something they were keeping from me. It also seemed as though they were stepping on egg shells, trying their very best not to do anything to agitate me. At the time, I had no idea why. "What would you like for dinner, Hanna?" Mother asks hurriedly, obviously desperate to return back to small talk. "I don't mi…"
"Joseph managed to get us some meat, turkey, I think, and I think we have enough corn and pea's to make a small meal or two now, so we'll have that, shall we?" She is speaking to fast, like her minds is chasing the words out of her mouth. "And I made a trifle for desert." Hope pipes in, giving a sickly sweet grin. "Really, guys, there was no need…" and I'm not lying. The sweat peas and corn among various other vegetables we grow in our back yard are one of the only recourses that bring us income. Of course, Harmony has her market stall job, and my mother often washes and presses our neighbours clothes for a small fee, but neither job brings in as much money as we need to survive. By growing and selling fresh fruit and vegetables to the local grocery, we are able to live fairly comfortably, but the crops take a lot of patience and work to grow correctly, and my mother hardly ever lets us even taste the tiniest of berries or tomato's. So, as you can imagine, serving up all of the peas and corn we had spent months growing for dinner, was a little suspicious. Also, we hardly ever could afford to have white meat, only red, like pork and steak. White meat was a luxury only the richest among the Amity could afford. "What's the special occasion?" I manage to force out of myself, punctuating my question with a nervous chuckle. I notice Hope and Mother exchanging looks from across the room. "Well, it's your choosing day tomorrow, and mother and I knew you must be feeling a little nervous and…well, we wanted to make you feel a little more comfortable, that's all." Hope replies so softly I have to strain to hear her. My mother nods in agreement. "And…and…" mother looks away from me for a moment, but then allows her gaze to drift back. "We want you to know, that, if…if you don't choose Amity tomorrow, we'll still love you just the same." That blissful feeling of utter relief enters my blood stream once more. I will no longer have to feel guilty about leaving my family behind, they are expecting it, and they are okay with it. I smile widely with gratitude. "Thank you." I whisper. And then I rush upstairs to my room, because I can feel the warm tears brimming in my eyes, and to cry at such sentimentality wouldn't be very dauntless of me.
Dinner is nice. Joseph comes by the house after work with the turkey, which mother and Hope cook to near perfection, ensuring the meat is juicy and tender, just the way I like it. The sweet pea's burst on my mouth as I unravel them from their delicate skin, and the watered down wine my mother allows me to have to assist my meal makes my tongue tingle and my throat roar, but in a pleasant way. The chatter is simple and light hearted, and now things have been let out in the open, not at all awkward. Hopes trifle is deliciously rich and made with extra jelly, probably because she's aware it is a particular favourite of mine, and of course, I am cut the biggest most jam filled slice. Afterwards, mother gives me the day off from my washing up duties, and instead I play with Nile in the front room whilst my sisters slave over the slink.
Nile really was, and I hope still is, the most delightful of children. His sunny beam and happy go lucky attitude is enough to warm even the coldest of hearts, and as you've probably gathered by now, I am not an easily charmed person. As I play with him in front of the television, body sprawled across the carpet, as I make a series of vibrant coloured trucks trek over my arms and shoulders, I wonder what my nephew will be like five years from now. Will he be just as easily impressed and likable, or will this personality merge in to selflessness? Will his curiosity and yearning for adventure give him the same label as I had just gained myself? If I leave, I will never know. In that moment, for the first time in all my life, I begin to question whether or not I am making the right decision. Perhaps I should stay here with these peaceful people, with these people whom love and care for me and would never fail to protect me. But could I ever be truly happy, feel truly alive and liberated, if I decided to keep myself in a category I have always known I have never belonged in? I deserve a shot at happiness, at self expression and freedom, that's what the faction system is all about. Perhaps my family thought that treating me so pleasantly that night would bribe me to stay with them, or perhaps they already knew that nothing they could say or do would convince such a strong willed sixteen year old to stay. I don't know, and I expect now I never will.
When Hope and the boys leave, I feel to drained to stay downstairs socialising with Harmony or mother any longer, so I immediately make for my room. I unbraid my hair, softly fingering the delicate crinkles the style had created, and pull my nightshirt over my head. I slip between the freshly pressed sheets. They smell of soap and lavender, they smell of my mother. My mindset does not falter though. I fall asleep in to dreams of Dauntless.