Disclaimer: I do not own Divergent. The characters, setting and plot belong to Veronica Roth.
The evening is cold and very windy. I look up at my mother and see her dark hair blowing around her face. It is akin to mine, with a hooked nose and dark bruises around her right eye. This, I know, is the hardest time of the day for both of us. My father is about to come home. And I know that no matter what they say about families loving each other, no matter how many people trust Marcus Eaton, leader of Abnegation, we will all be going to bed tonight broken.
My mother looks down at me. She frowns a little, and then reaches into the wind. She pretends to hand something to me. "What is it?" I ask. This is our game. She makes things out of the wind and I take them.
"It's smile potion," she says. "Drink up. You look down." I pretend to do what she says, and hand the invisible bottle to her. "You too."
She pushes it away. "No, I'm not. Mothers are stronger than you think." I must look skeptical, because she changes the subject. "What would you like tonight? Anything, everything..." She sweeps her hand out into the wind.
"I want a new father. One who doesn't hit people."
The words tumble out of my mouth, small and sure. I immediately regret them when I see the spasm of grief flash upon her face. She turns away for a moment, her shoulders shaking, her forehead resting on her hand. When she turns sround, she takes me in her arms. "I can't do that," she says quietly. "I can't make people."
"You made me," I say. She laughs. "Fair enough. One of the best things I've done." She grows quiet again. "But I can't change people. How about that?"
As I open my mouth to answer, I hear the car drive up to our house.
The side of my face stings as I lie in bed that evening. As I listen to the argument brewing downstairs, a thought occurs to me. I could leave Abnegation. I could leave my family.
I will escape.