*All characters belong to Veronica Roth

*Contains the severe corporal punishment of a teenager, please do not read if this makes you uncomfortable

This is my first story ever, so please rate and review! Constructive criticism is always welcome.

Chapter 1: Conviction

They've always said we look alike, my father and I. That we have the same smile; our lips curl the same way. What they don't know is that there are two sides to that smile. He puts on that smile for them when he's at the council meetings, and is Marcus the nice, selfless Abnegation they all think he is. His lips curl in the same way, but crueler, for me when when he is Father and boiling with rage and I'm nothing; helpless and at his mercy. I have no mother to protect me; she died long ago. Even if she was still alive, she would not be able to do much. Out of selflessness she would be expected to let Father have control.

Tonight, I went too far. Until I am sixteen I am not to speak unless spoken to at the dinner table, even though there are only two of us. A few more months and I will no longer be considered a child. I fear if I continue to live with my father, he will still to treat me like one.

At dinner he bashed the Erudite for another report they released and I questioned his judgment. I could see his eyes focus on me, the disbelief on his face. We both know what will happen later tonight, perhaps he does more than I .He has been doing the same thing ever since I was about seven or eight years old. The same procedure. The same routine. By now, after 9 years of practice, I've mastered his commands.

"Strip, and wait for me upstairs."

His voice is dead calm and frighteningly even. His lips are ever so slightly curled. He turns around and leaves. I am to follow his exact orders. I always do. Marching upstairs to my room, I regret my actions, my words. I can feel the tears welling up behind my eyes. Closing the door behind me, I slowly peel off the bland, grey clothes I've been wearing all my life. Shirt first, then pants, followed by my socks and underwear. There is no more shame in this, I am accustomed to it–– probably due to frequency.

Growing up in Abnegation I was always, always taught to think of others before myself. So that is how I saw the situation. My father, the strong-willed Abnegation, was doing this out of selflessness and for me, so I could reciprocate it and take the pain for him. That is what I have always thought. Until recently, when he started sliding out his belt and ordering me upstairs even more often. Even for the tiniest little things. I've begun to question his selflessness and maybe think he isn't as perfect as everyone sees him to be. Everyone, that is, except for the Erudite. They've been spreading rumors and releasing local articles about him for weeks now; about how he is cruel and corrupt. Am I a horrible person for agreeing with them?

I am naked, sitting on my bed and beginning to feel cold. I am nervous. I am scared. Sometimes I wish I could be Dauntless. Fearless. Brave. Every time I sit here and await my fate, I grow more and more nervous as the seconds tick by. He never keeps me waiting for more than 10 minutes, but it always feels like 10 years.

He is not the only parent who disciplines their child in this manner. I know others, but their parents seem to be much more reasonable. They do not get beaten for the smallest of infractions. Their parents sit down and talk to them afterwards, give them a hug. They do it out of love, and they share mutual respect with their children. Father does it out of anger, and I no longer respect him. After tonight, I will hate him.

Suddenly, my heart stops, and starts to beat again, faster and faster. I can hear the footsteps coming upstairs. I am ready. I am selfless. I can take this. I can do it, like I've done a thousand times before. But my courage falters every time.

My door opens, slowly, but steadily. He steps in the room, clad in the same grey outfit I was wearing just minutes ago. There is a fire burning in his eyes, and it frightens me. He looks angrier than ever. I questioned his authority, and to him, it sounded like I agreed with what Erudite had to say about him. Isn't this exactly why I'm driven to agree?

"You... you call yourself my son. Why are you so hard headed? You must learn respect!" his voice booms. "How many times do I need to do this before you learn? Always asking questions and disagreeing with me. You are Abnegation, and yet you cannot even submit to the will of our government, of our own faction, never mind that I'm your father!" He sneers at me. I feel small. I feel weak. I feel desperate. I begin to question myself again, my self-worth. He has this effect on me every single time. I hate him for it, and he hasn't even gotten started.

He continues to yell, and I think of the Choosing Ceremony coming up in a couple months. Luckily, it happens days after my 16th birthday. I will not have to wait much longer. I consider my options. Abnegation, the faction I grew up in. Erudite, the faction I have been taught to hate, but yet I agree with what they say about Father. Dauntless, the faction I envy for their fearlessness. Amity, the faction I could never be in. I am anything but peaceful. And Candor. I have no desire to be honest.

He has finished yelling. It is time.