/Two years previously

/Erudite 16 year old boy POV

As we enter the cafeteria, I realise the significance of these tests on my future. At Erudite, it was always taught to recognise the significance of events and actions. I was never really the type who paid attention in our classes. Erudite never felt comfortable to me either, and I knew in my heart that I had no particular intention to stay with my faction. Dauntless had always appealed to me, but at the same time I feel that Candor is respectable and something which I look up to. My sights, however, are firmly set on Dauntless. I long to be part of the group who thought nothing of jumping off moving trains. I knew that, to succeed, I would have to overcome my morbid fear of owls. My dear girlfriend had said to me that she will follow me no matter which path I take in this life. She is two years my younger, and hence is not taking the aptitude tests with me, but in two years time.

I sit down in the cafeteria, without food as my stomach has told me that I cannot. I sit dead still with the other Erudite boys, and pick up today's copy of the Morning Star. It is a thick newspaper, produced at Erudite headquarters, and I flick to the editorial and try to read. Try as I might, the words do not want to be read and I give up and move on to the picture section. A picture is shown of the red flag being piped up at last years Choosing Ceremony. This year it will be hosted at Amity headquarters, which means that it will be bright and jolly. I cannot bear to think of it, and cannot really think of anything other than my upcoming aptitude test. I know that it is impossible to fail, but my body is not convinced. I am petrified of what lies ahead, as if it will be final. The other Erudite boys are discussing an article heralding increased grain production on Amity farms, but I am to tense to join in. I sit in silence as they chat, their words bouncing off me. The chatter simply makes me more nervous.

The assessors are men and women, all from Abnegation apart from the two Amity men who are assessing the candidates from Abnegation. This is because the rules, which have been drilled into my feeble brain, state that the assessor may not be of the same faction as the candidate. This is obvious really, as an assessor could give a biased result to encourage a candidate to stay with their faction. The tests cannot be prepared for either so I do not know what to expect.

I am called up in the next batch of names. As I rise, my body instantly feels heavy and recalcitrant. My legs shake, so I lock my knees to hide it from my peers. I step slowly along to the end of our table, anticipation flowing through my veins. As I pace slowly down the aisle, I realise to my horror that it would help me had I listened to my teachers more, rather than daydreaming about the beach. An Abnegation boy who had just finished his test, passes me as he heads for the door. His eyes are heavy-set, and filled with terror. I look deep into his eyes and see and see walls closing in. I force my eyes away from his and to the door which I will pass through. Door 10.

The door at the far end.