CHAPTER FOUR

1:14am

My eyelids are heavy with fatigue as I mutter an incoherent 'goodnight' to my mother and groggily trudge up the stairs towards my bedroom.

Despite my loud protests, my birthday party went much later than I ever planned it would. The last guests just left half an hour ago, and the past thirty minutes have been spent clumsily attempting to clean up the house. In my sleepy state, I was making more of a mess than actually helping, so much to my relief, my mother dismissed me.

It was a pretty standard Candor party, with ice cream and dancing and partying. I invited the entire Candor that sat at our lunch table, even though I never talked to more than half of them. It was Poppy who did most of the planning anyways. If it wasn't obvious by now, parties and social gatherings were not my forte.

I felt like bursting with joy as I flipped on my bedroom light and spotted my glorious bed, still neatly made from this morning. It had been a long day. And tomorrow would be even longer.

I flopped down onto my bed, my face buried in my sweet-smelling comforter. My mind began to erase itself of all thoughts as I drifted off into an unfathomable sleep, the lights still on and still fully dressed.

Mid-Afternoon of Choosing Day

"Will you stop squeezing my arm like you're in the middle of the ocean and I'm the life preserver?" Poppy exclaims as we step into the elevator of the Hub.

I loosen my death grip on her arm a bit and cringe. "Sorry."

"Are you really that nervous?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Um, let me think. Yes! Aren't you? You're about to make the biggest decision of your life." I make sure to emphasize the last part.

Poppy makes a face like she just drank sour milk. "Well, now I am!"

I laugh, but it sounds foreign. My throat goes dry, like it always does before I throw up and bile starts to creep its way up my throat. I clutch my stomach, groaning.

The elevator dings as we reach the level that holds the Choosing Ceremony each year. Poppy drapes her bony arm across my shoulders, keeping me steady as we're pushed and shoved into a sea of red, yellow, black, white and blue. I swallow the bile, because I really don't feel like throwing up on the bright yellow t-shirt in front of me.

My mom is lost in the crowd, somewhere a few feet ahead, but I keep losing sight of her.

The Choosing Ceremony space was built in rings in a circular room. The last ring in the center holds the five glass bowls, each holding a substance that represents a faction; smooth grey stones for Abnegation, rippling water for Erudite, moist soil for Amity, sizzling coals for Dauntless and shards of glass for Candor.

Panic begins to claw at my chest and the puke threatens to make an appearance once again. My eyes feel heavy from lack of sleep and my legs feel heavy as lead as Poppy leads us towards a couple of empty chairs.

3:00pm

"Hello, everyone, and thank you for joining us today, for this is a very important occasion," Johanna Reyes, Amity representative, stands in the center of the crowd, addressing us into a microphone.

Every year, the factions rotate on who will host the ceremony, and this year it is Amity's turn, just like next year it will be Abnegation's.

"As you know," Johanna continues. The long thin scar running down her tanned face seems to glow in the fluorescent lighting of the building. "We have gathered here today because the sixteen year olds of our wonderful city will be deciding on which faction they will make home of for the rest of their lives."

I stand in a crowd composed of hundreds of other anxious teenagers, squeezed together like a mouse in a trap. I'm squished between Poppy and an Erudite boy, the same one who I spotted yesterday before my Aptitude Test.

Johanna's voice drones on about how the factions were created and why. My toes tap lightly on the floor as I try to keep my feet from cramping.

"Those who blamed selfishness for the world's evil founded Abnegation."

I do believe that selfishness is to blame, but I am not Abnegation material. I would rather not live the rest of my life carrying old ladies' groceries and wearing the same drab outfit every single day, which just further proves that I am selfish, and a hypocrite.

"Those who blamed ignorance created Erudite."

I shake my head without even realizing. No, I'm not like Noah. I'm not smart enough to make it in Erudite.

"Those who blamed violence formed Amity." I notice she smiles extra wide when she says this bit.

I would love to live in Amity. Honestly. The peaceful orchards, being close to nature, working on a farm for the rest of my days… I could see myself living a happy life there. But when I think of how many fights I get into at school and how rude and sarcastic I am sometimes, I know Amity is also out of the question.

"Those who blamed cowardice created Dauntless." This statement causes the sea of black clothed, pierced, tattooed Dauntless to cheer and pump their fists in the air.

How the hell could I have aptitude for that? Their appearances are rough and frightening, so unlike any other faction. Maybe a part of me admires that they're different, that they don't care what anyone else thinks of them. Maybe it would be exhilarating to jump off of trains and be able to shoot a gun and guard the city from the unknown dangers outside the fence.

Too bad I've already made my decision.

"And those who blamed duplicity and deception formed Candor."

I stand up a little straighter, proud. This will be my faction. I will stay here to protect my mother, to serve my duties as a true Candor.

Johanna clears her throat and begins to read the names of the soon-to-be-initiates in alphabetical order.

"Isabel Adams, from Candor."

Isabel is the first to choose. She trots daintily up to Johanna Reyes in her white and black polka-dot dress and takes the knife from her open hand. Wincing, she drags the blade over her outstretched palm. Blood blossoms and she smiles nervously before sticking her hand over the bowl filled to the brim with dirt: Amity.

I saw that coming, I think with a faint snort.

I hear Poppy release a scandalized gasp, her eyes almost popping out of her head.

"Sarah Allen, from Erudite."

I see the flash of a blue skirt over the boy in front of me's shoulder before the girl sticks her bleeding hand out over the bowl filled with water. She's staying loyal to her faction, just like I am.

Name by name, transfer by transfer, Johanna finally reaches the J's.

"Eleanor Johnson, from Candor."

I am already halfway through the crowd, elbowing people out of the way. Only the Abnegation move without prompting.

Jeez, I think as I shove an Erudite out of the way. Just because you're not all Stiffs doesn't mean you're forbidden to act polite.

As I reach the edges of the crowd, I run my hands along the hem of my black and white striped dress. I really wish I hadn't worn a cardigan over it. I'll be as sweaty as a Dauntless in church by the time this is finished.

The crowd is completely silent, though there are at least a thousand people gathered here. The blood pounding in my ears is enough to make everything sound deafening though.

Johanna hands me my knife and I grip it tightly, like the rope in Phys Ed. class. This is almost exactly like the Aptitude Test simulation. My heart begins to thump again, but this time twice as hard.

I skim my eyes over all five bowls and gulp as I run the sharp point across my hand. I bite my lip; my hand stings as if a bee had just stung it ten times over.

I smear the blood by clenching my shaking hand, leaving it hovering above the Candor bowl.

I thrust my fist a little to the left and unclench it, letting a sigh be released.

I am not Candor, because I cannot even be honest with myself.

I chose Candor for all the wrong reasons. My mother's voice plays back in my head like a stereo on repeat.

Well, I am not making the same mistake.

I hear a sizzling sound, the same one a fire makes when it is being quenched with water.

Faction before blood.