After a few days of playing Truth and Lie Detecting and Make Your Social Life Awkward, we were made to go under simulations to test our honesty. Before that, though, I went through a slight mental and emotional problem.

For some odd reason, I just started to get into a foul mood, and couldn't help but speak harshly to everyone. Sometimes, I would get pounding headaches, and undergo anxiety attacks. Sally got horrendously concerned (being the caring and kind lady she is [I mean, she ironed our socks every evening as a sign of devotion to the initiates]), and took me to the hospital part of the city. She made me wait in a waiting room to talk to a counselor.

The counselor was an Amity lady. I recognized her, though I never knew her personally.

She recognized me, also.

"Why, hello, Lennon," she said. "When I didn't see you at church after the Choosing Ceremony, I quickly figured that meant you transferred factions."

How on earth did she find out my name? I didn't quite know hers… Cary? Clary? Cassandra?

"What's your name?" I asked. "Sorry, but after sixteen years of living in the same community, I never quite learned what you were called."

She smiled kindly.

"My name is Katie," she said. "Anyway, have a seat."

I sat down in a chair, and she sat down in a chair in front of me.

"Your initiation caretaker has told me you've been experiencing random spouts of anger and stress," she said. "Is this a new sensation for you?"

"Pretty much," I said. "I don't know what's happened. Normally, I'm pretty laid-back. I guess it's made everyone uncomfortable, because Sally sent me here. I don't want to be here. Actually, to be honest, I want to estivate and sleep it all through."

"Have you stopped consuming anything you normally eat or drink?"

"Not necessarily. Lately, I've been trying to stick to the black food instead of that awful, bleached white stuff. I need my nutrients. Also, I've never been on prescription meds, so I can't be missing them. Maybe it's just that I'm in a new setting, that's all."

Katie seemed to be thinking about something.

Finally, she said, "I think you're going through withdrawals, and, due to the chemical imbalances, it must be related to drugs."

"Drugs?" I asked. "Like, the illegal stuff? Like crack and heroine and snort-your-nose-out and pot and stuff like that? Goodness, no! I'm sober!"

"Peace Serum is a drug, technically, though perfectly legal."

"What?"

"All of the bread in Amity is laced with Peace Serum. You left Amity, so now you're going through withdrawals from the Peace Serum."

"That… makes sense. I forgot about the bread."

Katie gave me suggestions on how to deal with the withdrawals.

Finally, she said, "I know you're not Amity anymore, but, if all else fails, remember the ways you were raised to act. What would everyone back in your old faction think if they saw you playing the part of Oscar the Grouch? Often, the way we've been raised to see the world is how we'll view things the rest of our lives. Remember what it was like living in Amity."

After some more advice and good ideas for not being the crankiest of initiates, she told me I could leave. I thanked her, and walked out the door.

When I arrived back in Candor, (I confess to have dawdled some along the way, watching the birds and kicking at patches of grass in the sidewalk), the other initiates were all wondering what had happened while I was gone.

"Sally said she took you to a counselor," Alexandra said. "What did the counselor say? Do you have a mental illness?"

"She just says I'm going through withdrawals," I answered. "My body is used to the Amity Peace Serum, and I haven't been consuming it since I came to Candor."

"What's the Peace Serum?" Rashad asked. "Does it make you more peaceful? Why would people who are already peaceful want something that makes them even more peaceful?"

I started to feel irritated by the questions. Why couldn't they just look at the obvious and be content with those answers? Also, why on earth were they crowding around me? They only left me three cubits of space! It's like they were trying to crush me with their weight, as if they were evil clowns, or something.

"Lennon?" Matthew said. "Are you okay?"

"Shut up, Matthew!" I exclaimed, trying not to sound too harsh. That turned out to be quite a chore, since I was feeling fatigued and stressed, and really wanted to just sit down and eat ice cream. I wanted to be comfortable, and this moment was not my most comfortable.

"Everybody, just please move!" I tried to inch my way through everyone. "Sally, I'm not feeling well. Could I please go to the barracks?"

"Well, we have plenty more to do…" she started to say.

"I realize that, Sally!" I felt an angry heat rise up into my head. "There's always so much to do, even though it's mostly the same stupid dumb stuff! Before I rip out someone's hair, though, could I please just isolate myself?!"

I tried to remember what Katie had told me to do.

So I tried to think of what it would be like being in everyone else's shoes, how hard it must be for Sally to make sure all of the initiates learn the rules of her society, how uncomfortable I made the other initiates feel, and how stupid I must look to everyone.

"I'll do what you tell me I have to do…" I muttered.

Stupid, dumb Peace Serum. Now look at the trouble it has gotten me into! If I'd just been raised on a more sober diet, I wouldn't be like this, talking rudely to everyone and hoping they'd just all die in a hole. I would be nicer, and would have something pleasanter to look back upon when I think of these platinum days of golden glee and tearfulness.

I learned how to deal with my newfound frustration, though. I kept my mouth shut when I was angry, and would sometimes squeeze my eyes shut, also. If an initiate asked me a question or made a casual comment, and I didn't reply, she or he figured out I was not emotionally capable of answering at the moment.

A few days after my counseling session, it was time for initiates to start going through simulations. Of course, I was nervous about this… and stressed. What sort of situations would go on in the simulations? My guess was that it would be like a more technologically advanced version of Truth, with Lie Detecting thrown on the side.

The first day with simulations, right after breakfast, all of the initiates were led to a room with a chair similar to the ones from the aptitude test. Next to the chair was a screen.

"While in the simulation," Sally said, "your thoughts will be transmitted onto this screen. Therefore, everyone will see what you're thinking."

Standing by the chair was a young lady, who only looked a year or so older than me. Other than her shiny black hair, the first thing I noticed about her was that her skin was a reddish-brown color. I'd never seen skin like that before. During the summer, I would turn yellowish-brown, but reddish-brown? I wondered if her skin was naturally that way. I guessed so, since a Candor person wouldn't lie about something such as physical appearance.

I noticed how Matthew looked at the young lady. I agreed, she was fine looking, but that was the end of that. People are either aesthetically pleasing or aesthetically not pleasing- that's how things are. But Matthew seemed to think, to feel, differently.

He whispered in my ear, "She's hot."

Hot? Is that a word a former Abnegation person would use? I guess slang attacks and assimilates all but the mentally gated. Still, I would have expected Matthew to use more mature slang, rather than such junior high (not to mention uncouth and, to many, rude) terminology.

"Secrets don't make friends," Elizabeth said, quoting what appeared to be an ancient Candor proverb. "If you have something to say, blurt it out."

Matthew blushed. (Seriously, Candor initiation caused him and me to blush so much that some folks started calling us the "pink faced guys").

"Everyone," Sally said, indicating the young lady, "this here is Ella. She will be assisting me with the simulations parts of your initiation. Also, because I feel so guilty using needles of people, she will be the one doing the serum injections."

Everyone had a chance to lie in the chair and get injected with the simulation serum. We all watched the screen, and observed the "honesty landscapes".

Elizabeth was put in a situation where she had to admit to breaking something. She handled it with ease, and, frightening enough, had no look of guilt on her face as she confessed.

Alexandra had to confess to her mother that she failed an exam. Tears were streaming down her face, and her body lying in the chair started to shake. It was disturbing.

Matthew was in a dilemma- either tell on a friend who did something morally wrong, or keep his mouth shut. Of course, he had to tattle.

Sigurd's landscape was of him telling someone he hated how he felt about them. That was hard to watch, because the person he spoke to had a horrified look on her face. Even though she wasn't real, I felt sorry for her.

When my turn came, I lay down in the chair, feeling nervous.

I must have looked the part, because Ella said, "Don't worry. Even if your first time doesn't go well, you'll soon enjoy these simulations."

The needle was injected into me, and that's when everything around me changed.

I saw myself back at my old home in Amity. Whippoorwill was sitting on the sofa next to my mother, both of whom looked apprehensive. I was standing in front of my father, who was scolding me.

"How many times," he was yelling, "have I told you to shut up?! And, how many times have you disobeyed and gone and insulted somebody?! You are the rudest child imaginable, and everything you say embarrasses me!"

"I'm sorry, Dad!" I hollered back. "It was an accident; I wasn't trying to be rude!"

Wait a second? How could I know what I did wrong? This wasn't real. It was just a simulation! Still, I felt frightened to my core.

My father reached for a wooden spoon that was on the arm of a rocking chair.

"Ever since you were younger," he said, "you've insulted people, and you've been a total weirdo! What child in their right mind talks about loving literature class? During parent-teacher conferences last week, your teacher proudly told me how much you liked Jane Eyre because of how openly it depicts economic and social struggles. She thought you were insightful, but I think you're an impudent brat! Turn around!"

He raised the wooden spoon.

I was about to turn around to let him spank me, but I didn't. What right did he have to punish me? What had I done to deserve being chastised?

"No," I said.

"What did you say?!" My father looked furious.

I replied, "You will not punish me for something so trivial as the words that come out of my mouth. I try so hard, every single day, to please you, just so I won't feel the sting of that spoon. Even if I wasn't too old for spankings, the way you do it is entirely inappropriate."

"How so? Aren't I your father, who should punish you however I so choose?"

"A spanking is supposed to be on the butt, but you often miss and hit me on the shoulders and back. You beat me, and I often get marks on my skin from those 'spankings', those 'righteous punishments'."

My father looked ready to strike me.

I then said, "If you dare lay another finger on me, I will get the police involved in this, which will cause an uproar in this otherwise peaceful community. Nobody respects you, anyway, so they won't be surprised that your scandal will finally be made a legal matter."

As if to test my honesty further, the simulation had my father slap me across the face.

So I ran. I ran out of the house, and towards the gates that were near Amity.

I stopped running when I came to one of the gate's Dauntless guards.

"Is there a problem?" he asked, surprised that there would be a need for him in Amity.

For a second, I wondered if I should tell on my father. I mean, I was his son, therefore giving him the right to treat me however he so desired. But, didn't I also have my rights? Shouldn't I be allowed to live a life where I was safe from verbal and physical abuse?

"My father," I said, gasping for breath from all the running, "is beating me. I threatened to get police intervention."

It was all too quick. Soon enough, my father was in handcuffs, and the Dauntless man took him into town for evaluation.

And I was angry. Angry at my father for treating me that way. Angry at my mother and Whippoorwill for allowing him to treat me that way for so long.

And angry at Amity for not doing anything about the problem in the first place, for idly standing by.

The simulation ended. I felt shaken, and intensely disturbed. Before I knew it, silent tears were streaming down my face. Getting up from the chair, I walked over to where the rest of the initiates were standing.

Alexandra walked over to me, and grabbed my hand.

"It's okay, Lennon," she muttered soothingly. "You're away from that situation now."

I glared at Ella.

"How on earth are these enjoyable?" I inquired crossly.

She shrugged her shoulders.

"Maybe my honesty doesn't have as many consequences," she replied.

I rolled my eyes. Where is that Peace Serum when you need it? I felt a strong desire to bite off Van Gogh's ear, or something.

But Ella was right. I got used to the simulations fairly easily. It helped to remember that they weren't real situations at all, just fake ones hallucinogenically induced.

Later, I began to feel guilty about speaking so angrily to Ella. She was so friendly. I would see her every Sunday at church. And, since I knew barely anyone at Candor, I would normally sit with her. She didn't mind, since she really didn't have anyone specific to sit with.

Alexandra started attending the Candor church after a few weeks. She sat with Ella and me.

"I really like coming here," she said after worship service one day. "Back in Erudite, most people are atheists. At least, my parents were, and they didn't think it was a wise idea to let me get involved with people who believe in God. But here, people are so open about what they believe, and no one's ashamed to follow those beliefs."

Sermons in Candor were rather different from those in Amity. For one, they were much more open and direct. (It's no wonder it said in big writing on the wall behind the pulpit, "You shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free.") The Candor preacher was not afraid to discuss controversial topics, such as Hell and homosexuality and henotheism. In Amity, the preacher would sometimes try to sugarcoat things, talking more about Heaven and healing and hallowed days.

I remember that one Sunday, when the preacher was discussing the joy we have in Jesus, and how our joy contrasts with the emptiness found in the rest of the world.

"You may think you can fill that void," she said to the congregation, "but you certainly can't. True joy and true love only come from God and the acceptance of the salvation which comes through Him. You may wonder why your life feels so meaningless, why you aren't where you want to be in the scheme of things. Your nihilism comes from a complete lack of Christ. Christ is the one who gives us a reason to go onwards."

Alexandra was terrified of meeting the preacher.

"I don't think she'll like me," she said. "I mean, it's not like I'm religious, or anything like that."

"She likes almost everyone," Ella said reassuringly. "She may be brutally honest, but she is in no way judgmental."

After the service with the sermon about joy found in Jesus, Alexandra and I met the preacher. She was walked down the aisle to walk out of the building, when she stopped and stared.

"You two are initiates, aren't you?" she asked.

"Yes," I answered.

"My name is Keysia," she said. "You probably know that already, though."

"Actually," I answered. "I know of you as the preacher, that's all."

Keysia laughed.

"What are your names?" she asked.

"I'm Lennon."

Alexandra was quiet, but then said, "I'm Alexandra."

Poor Alexandra. She was so scared of being judged. Keysia sensed that.

"Have either of you gone to church much?" she asked.

I answered, "Back in my old faction, I went to church. This church is very different, though."

Alexandra was still quiet, but eventually answered, "Before coming to this one, I've never been to church."

"Do you have a religion or faith at all?" Keysia inquired.

"No," Alexandra said. "I wish I knew what to believe, but the truth isn't always black and white."

"It just doesn't look black and white, when it truly is," Keysia said. "If you just learn more about everything, you'll have a clearer picture of the truth."

Alexandra was happy to know that she wouldn't be viewed as "that devilish, sinning nonreligious girl". It makes me wonder what sort of ridicule she's experienced in the past to be so scared of being looked down upon.

I would sometimes go with Matthew to the synagogue. There was only one synagogue in the city, and it was in the Abnegation section. We would have to get passes from Sally every Saturday, as it wasn't normal for initiates to leave the home area of their factions.

Jews from all over the city would come to this synagogue, and, in order not to offend Abnegationers who attended (and, despite the faction diversity, made up the majority of the congregation), would wear gray clothes specifically on the Sabbath. The first time I went with Matthew, he led me to the house where his mothers lived, and we took clothes out of the dresser of what used to be his room. Until I got back to Candor, I never got to quite see what I looked like in Abnegation garb, due to the strict rules concerning mirrors in that faction.

Dov, the rabbi, was just as friendly and nonjudgmental as Keysia, though in a way that made him as inconspicuous as possible. Seriously, I wouldn't have recognized him in a crowd. He would have been some gray blob, like an amoeba living in dental gums with chewed-up spinach. But, as I've said, he was friendly, and was not appalled that my beliefs were different from his.

Of course, reading in Hebrew was a bit of a challenge, at first. Thankfully, some of the prayer books had transliterations. Pretty soon, though, I was able to read the strange, foreign letters. It was like the words were dancing off of my tongue, as if they were in a clandestine, mystical language that only a few elect could understand. Of course, I knew this wasn't true; it was merely my imagination getting to me.

Erudites who attending the synagogue would often speak about their fear of getting caught. If it was found out by the Erudite leaders that they were attending the synagogue in Abnegation (added to that, dressing as if they were apart of Abnegation), they could possibly end up becoming factionless as punishment. They were surprisingly trustful of the Candor congregants, whom they knew would have to tell the truth if asked about the other congregants. So far, no problems had been caused. They must have been extremely comfortable and problem-free to let me in.

It surprised me how people simply don't act the way our teachers at school said they act. Since everyone was young, we've all been taught about the factions and how they define how we act. Looking at the facts, though, I see that isn't true. Amity aren't always peaceful. Erudite sometimes masquerade as Abnegation. Aptitude test results are unclear and indecisive. Faction doesn't come before blood; in fact, it often comes before almost nothing.

And I'm starting to be convinced that Candor, even if it's just in omission, lies.