Jace:
It was early, as in really early. I knew this of course but that didn't make me any less anxious. The day was finally here, the choosing ceremony, the day I have to decide the rest of my life in front of hundreds of people, great. I'd only turned 16 a few days ago and yet I was trapped to decide my destiny today.
It was five o'clock so I didn't have to worry about my mother and father waking up for another two hours, give or take. Grabbing my clothes that were left neatly folded on my bedside table, I walked as quietly as possible to the bathroom, every floorboard accepting my vow of silence as I walked.
The walls of my home are all bare, the same grey walls everywhere I turn, and the bathroom isn't much better. It's a cramp place, housing only the necessities, nothing more. I could die right here and no one would ever know this house had inhabited people. Every thing is cleaned to perfection, sparkling in the yellow light of the dimly lighting bulb.
Abnegation, that's where I was now; it's where I've always been, I'm just another face in a crowd of grey. We have no distinction, sure my hair glows like spun gold, even when cut so sort, and sure my eyes are brighter than any normal brown, but all that hidden behind the haze of grey clothing.
By the time I've washed and dressed in my mundane clothing, grey shirt and trousers, the most unflattering attire. I may not be the strongest boy of my age, that certainly went to any of the dauntless boys at my school, but I knew I was attractive, with my high cheek bones and sculptured jaw. Of course none of this would ever be flaunted, none of it would ever be mentioned, or even noticed. I'm probably going to hell just thinking such selfish things, but that's who I am. My name is Jonathon Christopher Wayland, and this isn't where I belong.
"Jonathon" I hear my mothers voice waft through the walls. It must be later now, six thirty to be precise. "Your breakfast is ready" and then she's gone I can hear her footsteps retreating down the stairs. She's not as agile as me; every step she takes sounds even louder than the last.
I found my mother stood at the stove in out kitchen, her dark brown hair pulled into its usual bun, her dark grey clothing hanging off her shoulders, making her look a lot bulkier than she is. I won't lie, my mothers beautiful. She had dark brown hair that shines even when theirs no light, her skin was tanned not golden like mine was, but beautiful all the same; her cheeks are tinged ever so slightly with a rosy pink, her eyes the most soulful and expressive hazel I've ever seen.
She smiled at me, the action alone brightening her already breathtaking features. She was an angel, my mother, how she ended up in Abnegation I'm not quite sure, she was smart enough for Erudite, Honest enough for Candor and kind enough for Amity. The only place my mother didn't fit was Dauntless, the brave (or the cruel as my father said) She was too caring, she'd never hurt another living soul, and with the bruises I see the Dauntless wear around school like trophies, no, my mother would never be Dauntless.
"Are you nervous?" she asked kindly, her warm hazel eyes boring into my golden ones, searching for the truth, the way the Candor side of her would, even when hidden behind her Amity smile.
"Were you?" I asked, genuinely curious "when you decided the rest of your life" she looks at me, her eyes full of sympathy, I never was a fan of sympathy.
"No" she said, her voice soft and light, the way she always managed for it to be. "I always knew where I belonged" she placed a hand on my cheek, her hands were slightly chilled from washing her dish, her fingers smelling like cotton, everything here smelt like cotton. It was a clean smell, a comforting smell, the smell of home. "And soon you will too" and then she returned to cooking or cleaning, or whatever selfless act she was providing. I should be doing that, today was my turn; if my father found out he wouldn't be impressed.
"Where's dad?" I asked lightly. I often noticed the absence of Michael Wayland in the mornings, but today I thought he might wish me luck, give me advice even. But today wasn't a day for false pleasantries; my father was going to be disappointed, that much I knew, his only son was leaving him, leaving the cold grey of Abnegation behind. There was only one problem; I didn't know where I was going. I could see it now, the cold look in his golden brown eyes that just screamed you are not my son. Would he visit me on visiting day? Would my mother? Would anyone? Or am I destined to be the child their family forgot. Faction before blood. I think too my self, hoping for some comfort in the words, there isn't any.
"Setting up for the ceremony" she said with her back to me "He's conducting it today after all" she gave me a weak smile over her shoulder, she knew this was going to hit me, and it was going to hit me hard.
"He's running the ceremony?" I blurted out, praying for her to be joking, lying even, I wouldn't even be mad, just don't let this be true.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you dear" she said, turning around so she was facing me, her hazel eyes concerned and filled with, once again, sympathy. Sometimes I wish my mum didn't care so much. "We thought it was best for you, letting you make you're own choice" I swallowed, it was one thing for me to see the harsh glare of his eyes from afar, disowning me as his only child, but for him to pass the instrument of choice to me, to actually hand me the knife, I wont be able to avoid his gaze.
A brief silence consumed the room, my mother bent over the sink, me moving my morsel of porridge around my bowl, suddenly not so interested in the usually bland meal. Sometimes my mother would slip me a spoon full of sugar, only when my father wasn't looking of course, then she'd wink at me, a gesture so youthful and playful on her face. I was going to miss her the most.
I looked over at the wall clock, 8:45 the choosing ceremony started at nine, I'd better start walking.
"I guess I'll see you there" I said with a weak smile, hoping my mother didn't see the pain and fear registered on my face. The Abnegation didn't show emotions, it was selfish to burden other with our own feeling. Yet my mask was never quite right, my mother could see through it easily. She walked over, cupping my face between her still cool hands.
"What ever you choose" she said, looking me in the eyes, her voice so sincere it made me want to squirm under her gaze "I'll still love you, no matter what" and then she kissed my forehead, watching from the kitchen as I walked towards the door, towards my future.
Opening my door into the sunny morning, I saw a lot of the Abnegation houses doing the same. The house opposite me had the front door open, standing there was a girl, a girl I'd hardly spoken to, but I knew her name. Beatrice, Beatrice Prior, the girl a few days older than me. She looked at me and understanding passed through her blue-grey eyes. I may not know this girl but I knew one thing about her, she wasn't staying either.
I felt somehow comforted by that, to know I wasn't the only Abnegation to leave my family behind, to embrace a new life as someone new. Who would I be? Jonathon the peaceful? Jonathon the intelligent? Jonathon the honest? Or Jonathon the brave? One thing was for sure, I could never be selfless. The mere thought of leaving my mother behind proved that.
Beatrice nodded and I nodded back, before we both turned and walked to the ceremony, her with her brother, me completely alone.
Clary:
"Isabelle will you wake up!" I shouted, hitting the girl with her pillow for what felt like the thousandths time. She grumbled something back, something that didn't sound at all ladylike before burying her head in her pillows once again. "You leave me no choice" I said, trying to keep the smile off of my face. I grabbed the bottom corners of her quilt, whipping the heavy material away, leaving my best friend lying on her naked bed in nothing but her black underwear, the tattoo of a flame licking its way up her perfectly curved side.
"Clary" she screeched, standing up to her full height. Isabelle was a beautiful girl, five foot seven with inky black hair falling to her waist, pale, flawless skin and dark brown eyes, so dark they were almost black.
"Get ready" I said, pointing to the bathroom of my apartment. It was the day of the choosing ceremony, the day for Isabelle to decide her life. It wasn't really a big deal, we all knew Isabelle Lightwood, she was Dauntless through and through, nothing would change that. the same for Marlene and the same for Uriah, today wasn't a big deal.
She grumbled at me again, making an obscene hand gesture I gratefully returned before shutting her self in the bathroom. I could hear the shower start up seconds later. Walking around my apartment I began grabbing the clothing I was gong to wear since I was currently wearing only a t-shirt more than Isabelle.
I remembered vaguely what my choosing ceremony was like, to feel the blade slicing along my palm, the thrill I felt when my blood sizzled over the coals, it was a year since I chose Dauntless over Erudite, a year since I said goodbye to the wretched lifestyle and finally lived my life my way. Oh yes, I belonged in Dauntless. When I was finally dressed in my black jeans and vest I began the morning battle of taming my wild, unruly hair. Unlike Isabelle who had hair so straight it made a swoosh noise when she moved, I had a thick birds nest of red curls that increased size after sleeping on them. Where Isabelle was tall, I was not; I was a short and skinny girl with pale skin and green eyes too big for my face.
I wouldn't say I was jealous, Isabelle may be beautiful but she also had an incredibly short temper, a characteristic I was glad to have left behind me. Besides, Isabelle was the popular girl; she was the Dauntless Queen at only 16 years old. She had two brothers, Alec who transferred to Erudite to be with his boyfriend and Max who was too young to choose his lifestyle.
Isabelle emerged what felt like hours after entering, her hair was already dry, her body covered by nothing but I towel. This, for Isabelle, was a very modest cover up.
"Jeans!" she shouted at me now standing in her underwear again, her fiery tattoo (one of my own creations) was shining with red and yellows all up her side. Following her command, I threw her jeans at her, laughing when they hit her face.
Once she'd bombarded both me, and herself, with eyeliner and other makeup, we left the apartment.
"Morning Red" I heard an unusually happy voice say behind me. By the time I'd turned around I was slapped with the image of Isabelle locking lips with her boyfriend. Zeke was two years older than Isabelle, a true Dauntless by my standard. He was a tall man, with dark skin, hair and eyes. He had a younger brother Isabelle's age and they looked practically identical, besides that fact Uriah had a snake tattoo behind his ear.
"Morning Zeke" I said, but he seemed too interested in running his fingers through Isabelle's long dark hair to even hear me. Isabelle was almost as tall as Zeke was right now, purely due to the added height of her boots. No less than seven inches. That's what Isabelle had said to me after asking why she wore the monstrous heels. I however, much preferred the comfort of my black combat boots.
"They at it all ready?" I heard a low voice growl from behind Zeke and Isabelle. Craning my neck to see, which with my height wasn't easy, I caught sight of the voices owner.
"Four!" I shouted, running at the 18 year old boy, throwing my arms around his neck for a hug.
"Jeez, Clary" he breathed out with a smile in his voice. Four was my brother by all ways but blood, the same Isabelle was my sister, he'd guided me and trained me last year, helped me through all the twists and turns that accompanied being Dauntless.
"It's Red, now" I said, puffing my chest out proudly, resulting in Four rubbing a hand through my curls, his blue eyes so bright and happy. Four and I were the instructors for the transfers this year, this meant guiding them through initiation and seeing who made it out in once piece the other end, and who winded up factionless. Since he didn't show his real name I thought it was only fair.
Not many people did know Four's real name, but I revelled in the fact that I was one of the lucky few who did, Zeke being the only other person. Four's only a year older than me, with dark hair and eyes so blue they sometimes hurt to look at, but he was my brother and I loved him, no matter what.
"Of course" he said with faux remembrance "How could if forget" he pinched my cheek slightly, the way a distant grandmother did to a baby. It was the hidden message that said aww look how cute it is! That made me slap his arm away. I was not cute. I may not be beautiful like Isabelle, or pretty like Marlene, but I was Dauntless now, and the Dauntless were note cute.
"We'd best get to the train" I said, excitement filling me when I thought of the train. Everyday I would walk to the tracks, sometimes with Four, sometimes without him, and I would jump onto the train, just for the sheer thrill of it. I'd stand in the door, wind whipping at my face and clothes, it made me feel like a bird, free from any thing that ground me to the earth. "the ceremonies starting soon" I was not Clary any more, the little girl who hid from her family, I was Red and I was brave.