Trigger warning: child abuse - I've tried to keep it as non-graphic as possible, but I didn't want to completely pass it over - it's quite a bit less graphic than my first version of the chapter, but still enough.
When I wake up, it feels like a completely normal day. The sun is shining, something I liked a long time ago. I have never said anything about it - what would be the point? - but sunrises remind me of Evelyn. She was the one who first taught me how to appreciate the beauty of our planet; the one who showed me the sunrise and the sunset, the beauty of fire and trees and sky and so many other things.
When she died, my appreciation of them died with her.
I know that she is not dead; but in my mind, she is. If I will never communicate with her again, never see or speak to or hear her, what is the point of her being alive?
My son is a walking copy of her; not his eyes, which are as dark blue as mine, contrasting with Evelyn's light brown eyes, but they both share a hooked nose, and very long fingers… and in the deeper things, the ways that matter - their way of walking, their smiles - straight, close-lipped Abnegation smiles, rarely seen…
The same as Evelyn; the woman who left me.
The woman I loved.
Tobias is moving just as slowly as I am; dressing slowly, taking a freezing shower, walking to his bedroom to get the hair clippers. There is only one length of hair acceptable for an Abnegation male, and it has been a while, too long, since it was cut. As he stands in front of the mirror to cut his hair, I take the clippers from his hands. 'Let me,' I say, using my gentlest voice - which is not much. 'It's your Choosing Day, after all.'
I start to buzz his hair. My fingers stabilize his head perhaps a little too hard, and I see him wince slightly. Is he remembering yesterday evening? I am not, but I cannot say the same for him.
This is rank with self-indulgence! It poisons the house with its selfishness!'
Old fragments of a computer, glasses without lenses, stubs of pencil, pieces of string; he has stored everything away in the trunk that I always assumed was for blankets. It is self-indulgence, and I did not raise my son to be self-indulgent. This deserves punishment.
I push him against the wall, determined to give him a lesson that he will not forget, but then he shouts, 'The Choosing Ceremony!' and I pause.
I know that it will be a scandal for the main government representative's son to go out with bruises on his face. I stop. 'Fine. Stay there,' but I can't leave it at that. If I do, he will never learn his lesson, and it is my responsibility as a father to teach him what he needs to learn. My son is a self-indulgent liar, and he needs to be taught what is right and what is not.
So I take the belt, and know that he will never tell. He is as much of a coward as he is a liar. After everything is as broken beyond recognition, I open the door and walk out; he can clean up the mess on his own.
'You know what to expect,' I say, back in government representative mode. I barely remember what happened before; he was self-indulgent, and I taught him not to be. What else is there to remember?
Tobias should already know what to expect; he has watched Choosing Ceremonies since he was old enough to walk; he knows that the Abnegation cut their hands and let the blood fall into the right bowl, where they make the right choice.
'You'll stand in your place; when your name is called, you'll go forward to get your knife. Then you'll cut yourself and drop the blood into the right bowl.' I don't bother telling him that there is no other option but Abnegation. He should know that already.
He stares at me, our eyes locking in the mirror, neither looking away. I do my best to smile, though I don't think it works. 'The knife will only hurt for a second,' I continue, 'then your choice will be made, and it will be over.' He'll make the right choice; I know he will. He'll make the one best for him, for his own good.
Suddenly, there's a strange emotion flashing in his eyes, something I have never seen in him before. 'Don't worry about me handling the pain,' he says. 'I've had a lot of practise.'
It was for your own good, I want to say. He never appreciates how much I have taught him. But I only give him my death stare; it is not worth retaliating. He falters, fear in his eyes. I control my anger with an effort, switch off the clippers, cover up the mirror and set them on the ledge.
He can clean up the hair; he needs to learn how to depend on himself. Another thing I've been doing for his own good.
I read the Erudite news to him; nothing interesting; and leave him to wash the dishes. We silently walk out of the house, towards the Hub.
Why am I worried? He will choose the right bowl. I told him what to do in the aptitude test; choose the cheese over the knife, but don't show too much disdain for the knife; that will point towards Amity; throw yourself in front of the dog, and tell the man you know him. You'll know what to do. He promised that was what he did, and that the woman administering the aptitude test barely looked at him on the way out.
It's okay. He will choose Abnegation, for his own good. He knows what the right choice is, and I trust that he will make it.
It takes us a long time to get to the Hub. The stairs are steep, and we all have to stick together. I see Tobias press his lips together and try not to breathe too hard; we would not want to be seen as complaining.
The ceremony goes slowly. After a typical Dauntless speech where I try not to outwardly show my disdain; I feel that my speech three years ago was much better; the children begin to choose.
Amity, Candor, Abnegation, Dauntless, or Erudite; the choice is theirs. Most go by what their results were in the aptitude test, though some do not. I know Tobias will; years ago, I chose Abnegation, and that is what Tobias will do.
The names are called in reverse alphabetical order. Eaton, Tobias. I straighten up; I want to watch him make his choice.
He receives his knife from the Dauntless man; Max, I think; and I try to quell a sudden flash of worry. He will choose Abnegation. He is too volatile for Amity, not intelligent enough for Erudite, far too much of a liar to be in Candor, and the idea of my son being the first Abnegation-Dauntless transfer in decades is almost laughable. He is not going to fit in anywhere but Abnegation.
Tobias cuts into his palm without a blink. Too deep, I want to tell him; he has cut so deep I'm surprised that he doesn't flinch at all. He looks at me, meeting my eyes. I nod. The right choice. He curls up his palm into a fist to collect the blood, and then he makes his choice; but it is not the grey stones that stain with red.
I watch as his blood sizzles on the coals.
Dauntless?
A/N: Aaaaaaaaaaaaaand the second chapter is revised! And it's now one that I'm pleased with! What do you guys think of it? I've actually kind of enjoyed getting into Marcus's head - I think that in some twisted way he cares about Tobias and wants to protect him - he's just doing it in all the wrong ways. Do you know what I mean?
A review would mean everything, especially from the people who have read the original chapter and who can compare the two! Thanks! :)
