Look! A long chapter!
I still think over how Four and I got so close. I remember that it did start the night my parents had died.
"I know this will hurt," Four said then. "But can you describe to me exactly what happened?" I did. I cried when the worst happened, and failed at my attempt to smile when I went over on how he saved me. Afterwards, he hugged me and let me rest, but I never did, and we both knew that. I never knew until that night, that he lived right across our apartment. My apartment.
My parents' funerals were held the day after the attack. I didn't attend. I knew the Dauntless leader would say they were "brave for jumping" and a bunch of other lies. The rest of the faction, though? They all knew better, they knew someone was behind it, but they still decided to get drunk and "celebrate" because of it. My faction is sick, but I still love them to pieces.
The week after the funeral, Four helped clean up the apartment a bit. He convinced me to give him a spare key just in case, which he now uses everyday to check up on me. I remember how'd he moved a chair into my room, right next to my bed. He'd talk to me about how his day was, then I'd do the same. He still does. It made me feel like he was a type of therapist or something. I'm not sure if Tris knows about that, but there's a likely chance she doesn't. Luckily there won't be another Choosing Ceremony, another initiation, not until next year.
Two months after my parents died, Four became a little wary of me. I'd understand why, I was hiding blades I got from pencil sharpeners at the time. I'd hide my scars by keeping my sleeves over them. He found out soon enough, just two weeks after I began cutting. I guess he sorta investigated while I was at school...
He was in my room, once I got back from school one day. "Hey, Four." I said. I was surprised to see him right away, but still a bit happy. "Hi." He said casually. "What're you doing here?" I had no idea what was up with him at the time. "Lift up your sleeves, please."
"Why?"
"Just do it." I stood there, frozen.
"Lift up your sleeves or I'll make you." I knew he wasn't trying to do anything like that, but I stayed silent, either way.
He stared at me for a few more seconds then walked up to me. He began trying to pull up my jacket sleeve, but I wrapped my fingers around them. Four stopped fighting me, then began tickling me instead. I laughed and fell on my bed, putting my hands on my stomach. He took that chance and pulled up a sleeve, showing old marks and new ones. I attempted to pull myself free, but his grip tightened. "What did you do," Four asked. I stared at him. "Why are you doing this to yourself?" I stayed silent, he looked at me with pity, then hugged me. A heart-warming, brotherly hug. He pulled back, and took the blades, my blades, out of his pocket. "You're not doing this again. I'm going to dispose these and you are going to stop hurting yourself." He said. I watched him walk out of my room, and heard the apartment door shut. He came back that night, but we never talked about it. Not since then.
The only times he got mad at me is when I try to get to his cake, or disobey him. Very brother-like.
When I turned thirteen, I became more of a trouble-maker. I'd pull pranks on the older kids, but Four found out. He didn't say anything, just laugh when I prospered. I used those sweaters with long sleeves I had to hide my tools for the pranks. That's a bit of how I got a reputation with the other kids my age. I didn't like many of them, it seemed they were stupid daredevils, and that's it. They kept trying to be good friends of mine, but I would never let them. I played a prank on a teen two years older than me, pretty clever and very complicated. But he found out because he was clever, too. We ended up being good friends after that. The guy is Uriah, but I still don't know how he figured out I made the prank. Four swore to me that he didn't say anything, so I got quite confused at that. I'd shrug it off.
I opened my apartment door, and I see Four holding his keys in mid-air. "Kam," he says, putting his hand down. "I was hoping to talk to you today." I raised my eyebrows and gestured him to come inside. "No, I was wondering if you wanted to go through a simulation." I think for a minute. "We can do that? What sort of simulation?" He gestures for me to follow him, and we walk side-by-side. "I know you've been wanting to know about the tests they give you to choose for the Choosing Ceremony." I nod. "Well, I figured a way for you to take the test, and nobody will be able to find out." We walk into a room I'm unfamiliar with, a seat that you see at the dentist, but in the middle of the room. There are tons of stuff that look pretty creepy next to the chair, so I decide not to dwell on it. Four has me sit in it and puts these suction-thingies on my forehead. I feel my eyes are wide. "Now, you cannot tell anyone about this." I nod. He has me drink some liquid, and everything goes black.
There's a white room. "Choose." A woman says behind me. I turn around, and their is cheese on one side, and a knife in the other. Being Dauntless-born, I choose the knife. Suddenly, I hear something growl, and see a dog walking towards me. So that's what the knife is for, I think. I don't want to hurt the dog though. I let go of the knife, and I hear it clatter on the floor. It gets closer. I do what my instincts say, and hold the back of my hand out for the dog to sniff it. If it jumps, it'll already be taller than me. I have to befriend the dog. It sniffs my hand, then licks it. I stroke it behind its ear, crouching, but low enough to where I'm still bigger. The dog licks my hand and nudges it. A girl appears behind the dog and she says something that I couldn't hear. The dog snarls and turns toward her. I see the muscles tense. I stand up right away and tell her to run while I kick the dog's snout, feeling lots of guilt. It winces and whines, but does not run from me. "Only a simulation," I mutter. "Nothing is really happening." The dog lunges at me. I dodge it and tackle it from the side. I blink, but when I open my eyes I am holding down nothing.
Instead, I see a bus door. I look around to sit somewhere, but it's full. I decide to stand in the front and hold the pole there. I look around again, and see somebody holding the newspaper. Whoever is holding it probably has some issues, considering how his hands are clenched where he is holding it, burn scars covering his hands.
On the cover it reads: Brutal Murderer Finally Apprehended! I think of my parents again. Suddenly, the man reading the newspaper looks up, making me able to see his eyes beneath dark sunglasses, but that's the only part of his face I see. "Do you know this guy?" He asks, his finger pointing at the picture. Underneath the headline, there is an image of a young man with a beard and a plain face. I know I have never met the man before, but there's a feeling telling me that I do. Something bad will happen if I say yes.
"Well," He says, fire in his voice. "Do you?"
I should tell him the truth, it's the right thing to do. It's just a test, I tell myself. None of this is real.
I shake my head. "I'm sorry but I can't identify the image of the male, having no idea of who he is." I hope saying that in a sophisticated tone helps. The man stands up in front of me snarling. I see that he has more scars on his face. He leans in closer, but I stand still, staring back at him. Looking away shows signs of being submissive. I can't show him that. The man's breath smells like he's been smoking. None of this is real, I remind myself again.
"You're lying," he tells me. "You're lying!"
"I'm sorry, sir," I begin to say standing straighter. "But I am not lying."
"I can see it in your eyes."
I try to put bravery into my eyes. "You're only lying to yourself."
"If you know him," he begins in a low voice, "You could save me." I try to make my eyes harsher. "You could save me!"
I flinch, but only for a fraction of a second. "Sorry, but I do not know him." I say harsher.
I open my eyes, seeing Four with wide eyes. I sit up straight, waiting for him to talk. I pull off the wires from my head.
"Well?" I ask.
"No." He finally says. I sit there confused, my mouth agape. "No," he says again. He stands up and paces around the room, saying, "No." over and over again. I sit there, staring at him like he's a sociopath. I wave my hands around, but still get nothing else from him. I do what I feel will wake him from his daze, and punch him in the gut. "Ow!" he yells. "What was that for?" I shrug. "You wouldn't stop saying 'no' over and over." He puts both of his hands on my shoulders, staring straight at me.
"You are not allowed to tell anybody of what happened. Never." I nod. He doesn't stop there, though. Four takes a deep breath and begins to explain.
"There are people called...people called Divergent. It means that you would be able to belong in more than one faction, it means that you are different. It means that you are dangerous. Everyone who is Divergent is a threat, especially to the Dauntless. Most people that are Divergent get killed." He stares at me apologetically. I think over that last sentence again. Your Divergent butts can go to hell for all I care. None of you belong here.
Four continues. "We hardly ever find people that are Divergent. If you tell anyone that you are, in fact, Divergent, there will be a price to pay," I shudder. "Don't worry, though. You're not alone. Based on that test, I'd say you have the ability to go to three factions. Erudite, for your behavior towards the dog and high vocabulary. Possibly Abnegation for tackling the dog so it wouldn't hurt the girl, which is always Dauntless trait. Only a bit of Abnegation though, you still lied to the man, even after he said you could save him. Dauntless, especially, for being brave towards both the dog and the man. Also since you chose the knife other than the cheese, yet you never used it."
I purposely stare at him like he's speaking a foreign language, yet I understand. I understand completely, and that is not good.
With that happy note, Four leads me to the food room. I sit at our usual table, where Uriah, Tris, Christina, and Will are already eating lunch. I take the worry from my face and replace it with a smile. I should've gotten used to faking smiles by now.
We all joke around, me smiling widely. I still can't forget how much worry Four's expression had.
