Chapter 2

I wake up the next morning and shut off my alarm clock. Instead of getting ready like I normally would, I lie in bed for a while, staring at the roof. It is grey, like everything else in Abnegation. Grey, and boring, and lifeless. For some of us, the color grey is a symbol of our selflessness. For others, it is a cloak to hide who we are, for good or bad.
I am one of those people. The grey of Abnegation protects my Divergence, and it hides who I really am. My mother is also one of those people. Her grey clothing hides the side of her only I know; the abusive, monstrous woman who has the audacity to call herself my mother.
Outside of our "peaceful" Abnegation home, my mother is a leader in our city. She ultimately makes the decisions, and is respected more than anybody else. She is known as a perfect Abnegation model; selfless and caring.
Inside these prison-like walls, my mother is a different person. She is abusive. Monstrous. Sadistic. Uncaring. Selfish. Everything a mother shouldn't be. A smile spreads across my face as I think of how my mother will feel when I slit my palm open, and my blood runs on the Dauntless coals. A weight lifts from my shoulders, a weight that I only now realize has been there since Father passed away. After today, I can be free. I can be myself, not who I am forced to be. I take a deep breath and get out of bed. I slip on a grey dress and grey socks, and put my hair up into a bun. I make my way downstairs and begin to cook breakfast for the last time. As I'm buttering toast, my mother walks in. I turn to her. "Good morning, mother," I say. "How did you sleep?" Elizabeth waves a hand. "Fine," she says distractedly, and sits down at the table. I slide a plate in front of her, and take my seat beside her. We say grace together, and I participate for the first time ever. Afterwards, my mother stares at me.
"Beatrice, are you all right?" she asks, and I nod. "Of course. Just a bit nervous; I thought saying grace would clear my head. And it did." I smile her, and she nods. We eat in silence, until she speaks. "You know what I expect today, don't you?" I meet her eyes, trying not to let my intentions show. I nod meekly.
"Of course, mother." She nods to herself. "Good," she snaps, and her eyes narrow. "Now, clean this kitchen and go upstairs. I have to cut your hair before the ceremony."
I nod, and do as I'm told. I make my way upstairs and sit myself in a wooden chair.
After a few minutes, my mother comes upstairs with a pair of scissors. She walks in front of me and presses a button on the wall, and a panel sides open to reveal the only mirror in our house.
I study myself as my mother trims my hair. My face has filled out a bit in the three months since my last haircut. I look closer to sixteen years old, instead of eleven or twelve. My eyes are grey, darker than the grey of my faction. To me, they hold more pain than anybody should have to endure, but I don't know if anyone else sees that. My mother sets the scissors down and twists my hair into a bun. She walks a circle around me twice and nods. "That'll do. Sweep up the mess and we'll catch a bus to the Ceremony." I oblige, and within twenty minutes we are on a bus filled mostly with Abnegation, although a couple members from Erudite, Candor and one lone Amity are with us. When the bus arrives at the building we hold the Choosing Ceremony in each year, (A/N: Which building is this? The Hub? I have no clue.) the Abnegation are the last ones off. My mother leads us into the building, and we climb around twenty flights of stairs. I am forced to hold the door for everyone, and so I am the last one into the room.
I look around. The people who decided to attend the Ceremony are organized by faction, excluding the 16-year-olds that are choosing, who are lined up in reverse alphabetical order to one side of the stage. The chatter ceases abruptly as my mother walks onto the stage. She clears her throat before speaking into the microphone. "Good afternoon," she begins, and a half-hearted greeting is returned. "Today, we are gathered here to celebrate the faction system our city has come to know and love.
We celebrate every year by letting the sixteen-year-olds of our city choose the faction they please. The world outside our city has been torn apart by war and poverty, as you have seen in your history classes." Some people nod, but most don't move. My mother continues.
"Our ancestors decided that it was nothing but human nature that had caused this damage to our planet. And so we were divided into five factions. Each faction blamed some different quality that we all shared for the havoc wreaked upon Earth. The ones who blamed aggression were called the Amity, and have come to be known as the most peaceful of us all. Some of us blamed lack of knowledge, and strove to learn in order to prevent future disaster. These are the Erudite. Another portion of the population blamed dishonesty and lies for our troubles. They are the Candor. This leaves two groups, perhaps the most opposite of us all. The first group is the Abnegation, who blame selfishness, the tendency to think only of ourselves before others. The last group, the Dauntless, blame cowardice."
Elizabeth pauses and surveys the crowd, who is silent. She then turns to the potential members of each faction. "Now you have a choice to make. Choose where you feel you truly belong, where you feel you will fit in. Choose wisely." And she turns and leaves the stage. A cheer erupts from every faction but the Abnegation, who believe cheering is self-indulgent and unnecessary.
An Erudite makes her way onto the stage with a list of names, and begins to call us one by one, but I don't pay attention. I am too busy making my choice.
I know I can't be Amity; I'm not peaceful, or kind. I cross them off my list.
Candor? No. I've been lying to people my whole life about how I got this bruise or that cut; lying comes naturally to me. Abnegation was out from the start. I can't stay here; I don't belong. And I'm a coward.
That leaves Erudite and Dauntless.
Would I fit in with the Erudite? I can see myself with a book in my hands, or in a research lab. Becoming a doctor or scientist. But something about the Erudite just feels wrong to me, which could come from my mothers strong hatred of our enemy faction.
Dauntless is my choice. I've admired the Dauntless since I was a little kid. I always watch with longing and jealousy as they leap off the trains, scale buildings and pick fights with each other in the hallways.
In Dauntless, I can remake myself. I can throw away my past, and become a new woman. I can change. I can be me.
My thoughts are interrupted by my name being spoken into the microphone. "Beatrice Prior."
As soon as my name echoes through the silent room, my hands begin to shake. I'm still afraid of my mother's threats of what will happen if I defect. I know deep down that she can't hurt me anywhere else, though, and I hold my head high as I make my way to the bowls.
I grab a knife in my hand, and the light shines on it, reflecting into my eyes. I study each bowl carefully.
The Abnegation bowl, full of grey stones. The Candor bowl, filled with spheres of glass. The Amity, filled with damp earth. The Erudite, water that is already stained red from the previous choices. And the Dauntless, a bowl of raging embers, burning bright with the fires of courage. I don't think before I slit my palm and my blood sizzles on the Dauntless coals. When the sound reaches my ears, I smile, and the Dauntless are roaring, cheering my name, and I'm free.
Finally. I am free. I make my way over to my new faction, and someone hands me a bandaid before clapping me on the shoulder. The ceremony finishes, and the Dauntless are the first people out of the building. We are whooping, and cheering, and I can't stop smiling as I join in their celebrations.
I did it. I left. I showed my mother who's really boss. And I'm proud of it. My ambition served me today, better than it ever has before. I reach up and undo my bun,
letting the wind blow my hair around for the first time, and it's exhilarating. The Dauntless exit the building, and we sprint towards the train tracks. Somehow I manage to keep up with the older members and Dauntless-born initiates, but I stop when the train comes around a corner and members begin jumping on. A girl walks up beside me, staring at the passing cars. I turn to look at her. She is tall, with dark skin and even darker eyes. "We have to get on that?" she asks me,
and I shrug. "I guess so," I reply, and a voice yells at us. "Yeah, if you fail this, you don't even get a chance at initiation. I strongly suggest you get on." I turn to look at him, and what I see startles me. The man has no tattoos or piercings, nothing that identifies him as a Dauntless except his black clothes. He grasps a handle with ease and swings himself into a car.
I look at the girl beside me. "Together?" I ask her, and she nods. "Together." We run as fast as we can and make it into the second last car. I slide down the wall, relieved that I made it, and the girl sits down beside me. "I'm Christina," she says, and offers me her hand. I take it awkwardly, and she laughs at me. "My bad. Abnegation. I forgot." I chuckle a little, and I realize I haven't told her my name yet.
I open my mouth to say "Hi, I'm Beatrice," but something stops me. I realize that after my blood dripped onto the coals, I gave up Beatrice forever. I am no longer the quiet girl from Abnegation, who hides the real her behind a cloak of grey. I am... Tris. I am new. I'm me. I grasp her hand more firmly, and smile at her.
"I'm Tris," I tell her, and she nods. "Nice to meet you," she says, and I agree. I think Christina is going to be my friend in Dauntless, which is new to me. I've never really had a friend before, but I have one now.
I'll need one in Dauntless.