Disclaimer: I do not own the Divergent series.

A/N: Hello there! Thanks for the reviews so far - I'm glad you guys like the story! Here are a couple more babbles. Fellow fanfic author Robert M. and I have a list of these short, silly situations, and we plan on using these as prompts for stories within the chapters.

If you all have any suggestions, please send them my way! Thanks again for reading.


Mommy Dearest

Chapter 2

Age 6

I used to have a fish before Mom ate it. She said pets were illogical, and I cried.

His name was Popeye, and he was what you would expect him to be: a popeyed goldfish. I first saw him at the Merchandise Mart when Mom and I went there for my voice lessons. Mom had this obsession with speaking and singing clearly and articulately, and even though I always wanted to read and stay in my bedroom, she made me go to these lessons. I went every Saturday morning at seven o'clock, and Mom said she chose this time because the early bird caught the worm. I didn't really understand that analogy since I was human and I was merely going to a voice lesson, but I never said anything. Speaking up was illogical.

After my fourth singing lesson, Mom and I came across a little flea market when we were on our way back to Erudite headquarters. There was a great spread of people from all the different factions, and my eyes marveled at all of the different colors. There was blue, gray, black, yellow, white, red, green; there was everything!

"Don't stare at them, f12g94r." Mom squeezed my hand, and when I looked up at her, she was glaring at them. "Those idiots think they're making some sort of statement. They're not, and we shouldn't humor them."

However, as we rushed by a vendor who dealt with live animals, I stopped when I saw Popeye floating around in his tank. His gills were spread open as he swam and breathed for oxygen particles, and as Mom yelled and ordered me to return to her, I pressed my face against the glass. "Hello, little buddy. What are you doing? My name is f12g94r."

"He's just a swimmin'," said a low, cracked voice, and when I turned around, I saw a factionless lady smiling at me with a toothless grin. "Wouln' ya like ter take her home, love? Only a couple o' dollars will do it."

It took me a long time to convince Mom, but after I fell to my knees and begged her, attracting the attention of every single person in the vicinity, she finally pulled out her wallet and handed over the money. I held Popeye in my left hand while Mom practically crushed my right, and when we got home, she closed the door and turned the lock.

"Now f12g94r," she said, moving slowly so that she was standing in front of me. "Do you realize what you did today?"

My hand playing with the top of Popeye's water bag, I stopped to think. "I had my voice lessons, and then we bought Popeye."

"No." Mom put a hand to her head, and I saw the lines set in her face. "You made a mockery of me in front of those barbarians, and you forced me to buy you that pathetic clump of scales. Do you know how humiliating that was?"

I didn't know what was happening, so when Mom came over to the table and took Popeye, I didn't react. Surely she was just going to put him in a bowl, and surely there wasn't anything I could do anyway.

"Sometimes, we have to learn how to follow the rules." Mom took a pair of scissors from the drawer and cut open Popeye's bag. "Sometimes, we need to do as we are told."

Before I could do anything, Mom stuck her hand in the bag and pulled Popeye out by one of his fins. I cried and screamed for her to stop, but she ignored me. Opening her mouth wide, she slit Popeye's head with the scissors and then devoured the rest of his body, gulping and coughing before finally swallowing.

"I hope you learned your lesson, f12g94r." She bent down and looked me in the eye. "Pets are illogical, and so is disobeying your mother."


Age 6

I remember my first sleepover at a friend's house. When I woke up, Mom was sitting next to me, and afterwards, I never saw Abigail again.

Abigail Huntington is my best friend. Well, Abigail was my best friend until Mom cut her out of my life. At the time, none of us knew what was coming. It was a sunny day in late July, and Abigail asked if I could come over for a sleepover. I'd always heard about these mysterious things called sleepovers where girls painted each other's finger nails and slept in pink-colored tents, but I had never experienced it before. Mom told me that I wasn't missing out on anything, and she assured me that she was everything I'd ever need.

However, this time I didn't want to politely refuse. I really liked Abigail, and I thought we'd have a lot of fun. After I agreed, she had her dad drive us back over to my house, and he came in with me when I went to go tell Mom.

It was precisely 4:49, so Mom was surely preparing nutrients at the kitchen counter. Indeed she was, and as I flung off my shoes and ran over to her, excited at what a wonderful time I would have, I almost didn't notice the look of revolution that crossed her face when she saw Mr. Huntington.

"Hello," he said, following me into the kitchen and holding out his hand. "I'm Abigail Huntington's father."

"I know," said Mom, her smile fixed as she stared over at him. "Thank you for bringing f12g94r back, but may I ask why you've returned? I thought I was picking her up at six thirty."

"Mom, Abigail's having a sleepover!" I sang, pulling at her blue skirt so she'd look at me. "We were having such a good time, so she asked if I could just stay!"

"Did she?" Mom was still smiling, but it was weird. Her gray eyes had that blaze they got whenever she talked about Abnegation, but her smile was so sweet and lovely. "That's great, f12g94r, but we don't want to burden Mr. Huntington, do we? I'm sure he's far too busy."

"Actually, it wouldn't be a problem." Mr. Huntington smiled, and I saw Mom's jugular vein twitch. "The girls were having fun all afternoon, so we wouldn't mind to have her overnight. In fact, we'd be honored."

Usually Mom always gets her way, like when she insisted that she didn't need to have a driver's license to drive the Erudite cars, but I could tell that was going to let this slide. She sometimes got this little line on her forehead whenever something displeased her, and it was there now. "Well, alright then. Let's go upstairs and pack, f12g94r."

I couldn't believe it; it was too good to be true. I was finally going to attend a sleepover! I took Mom's hand and skipped up the stairs, and when we went to my bedroom and got out a blue duffle bag, I felt as if I were flying.

"I'm packing you one day's worth of clothes and one pair of pajamas," Mom explained, her voice tight. "I will be picking you up at six o'clock sharp, and you are to never spring this on me again. Do you understand me?"

Mom was mad, I knew, but I didn't care. I merely nodded and took the bag from her, running back downstairs and out to Mr. Huntington's truck. Abigail and I sang Erudite songs all the way back to her house, and after we ate dinner and then played outside in the grass, we shared a fizzy drink and then changed into our pajamas. We were tired, and it was almost time for bed. It was only logical to lay down and try to fall asleep.

In fact, I was so tired that I didn't even notice that someone broke into Abigail's house. It was around eleven o'clock, and as we were sleeping inside Abigail's pink tent, the zipper slowly began to trail downwards. I really was exhausted, so when I stirred and opened my eyes, I didn't know what I saw. "Who are you?"

I heard Abigail stir, and then I heard a soft, drawn-out shush as something touched my neck. The prick of the needle was familiar, and before I could do anything, I was fading into eternal blackness, hardly aware that someone was picking me up and carrying me out of the house.

When I woke up, I was in Mom's bed. It was strange, no doubt, and as I sat up, Mom was watching me.

"Where's Abigail?" I asked, rubbing my eyes. Mom was sitting on the covers, and her eyes were oddly soft yet fierce all at the same time.

"You don't need to worry about Abigail," she replied, moving to place her hand on my head. She never showed me affection, so I felt myself lulled as she stroked my hair. "You won't be seeing much of her anymore. I'm here, and I'm all you'll ever need."