Falling is a weird concept. I'm not a big fan of heights, but falling doesn't frighten me. Everyone screams when they fall. But I don't seem to. Instead, I feel like I'm flying, not falling. Like I'm a bird, soaring high and free above all else. And then it's over, snuffed out as the coarse rope of a net below me catches me. I sink into it, but not by much. Hands fly over to help and I look around at the faces connected to those hands until I find one I recognize. Tobias. Four. My brother. He may have left me with Marcus, but I still love him.
I grab his hand and he pulls me off. "Hey, Four," I say, giving him a quick hug. I pull out as someone's voice sounds around the room.
"Who's that?" someone asks him. He's a man about Tobias' age, eighteen, with multiple piercings and plenty of tattoos. "Is she your girlfriend?"
"Just a friend of mine, Eric," he says.
Eric smiles, piercings glinting in the light. "Well, she's also a Stiff. Don't want to hang around her too long or you may become like her and not as Dauntless." I step away from my brother, my head slightly bowed. "Don't do that," he snaps at me. "Dauntless stand nice and tall, proud. If you can't even do that, then you can leave." I straighten my posture, keeping my chin up. "Better." He starts to walk away as someone else lands. "And take out that hair." I roll my eyes before pulling out the one pin that secures my hair in the tight bun on the nape of my neck, letting it all fly down around my face, some covering a bit of my right eye. I feel it hit my waist gently, reaching its full length.
"You need a haircut." I turn and see Christina, along with all the other initiates, looking at me and Four.
"I know."
"Alright. Listen up," Four calls and I walk to be among my fellow peers. "My name is Four and I will be one of your instructors. First and foremost, there are three rounds. The first will be physical. In the end, four of you will get cut. The second will be emotional. No one will get cut there. The third is mental, combining the first two. In the end, only ten of you will remain. I'll be training the transfers while Lauren will be training the Dauntless-born since I suspect that you don't need a tour." The Dauntless-born leave us, going with who I suspect to be Lauren. "Follow me."
"Seriously, you need a haircut." I roll my eyes at Christina's comment before following Tobias down a dark hallway.
I hear the snip of scissors behind my head, a sound I haven't heard since I was around fourteen years old, before Four left. Christina is cutting it, mainly to get the split ends off, but she says it'll be better if I have my hair around the same length as Tris'. At least it isn't as short as she was originally suggesting. "There's still time to change your mind," she says, snipping off some more of my hair. "Bobs are really cool and they stay out of your face a lot better."
"No thanks."
"Suit yourself."
"Well, if it isn't Stiff number two." I can't turn around without messy up Christina, so I just stare straight ahead, hoping that someone will reveal who it is. "I thought Stiffs were supposed to serve others, not let others serve them."
"Go away, Peter. We didn't need you in Candor and we most certainly don't need you here," Christina snaps, cutting more hair. "And she's long overdue for a haircut like you are long overdue on a lesson in manners. I can't set that up, though."
"No need to hurt anyone before training. That's what it's for, either way." I can hear the smugness in his voice and, suddenly, Christina's bitterness towards him makes perfect sense.
"Shut up before I stab you in the eye with these." Christina drops my hair and turns around. I too turn to see who this "Peter" is. It's the guy Beatrice (or Tris as she's now called) threw her jacket at. Large nose, small, squinty eyes, gelled hair that looks very greasy, and definitely taller and broader than me.
"Why haven't you changed? Don't you know, we have to wear black now."
"I don't want to get hair on my new clothes," I say quickly. "Don't feel like walking in dirty on my first day."
"Learn to deal with it."
"Why don't you go roll in some mud and go deal with it?" That shut him up. I don't know how many people retort like that, but I guess not many.
"I thought Stiffs were supposed to be respectful."
"Not all of us. You know, there are some outliers. In all the factions actually. And, if I'm not mistaken, aren't you that one Candor boy who would pick fights and then lie?" He didn't respond. "That's what I thought. There are many of us who don't entirely meet the criteria of our original faction. I fit the Dauntless, as I assume you do, so that's why I choose Dauntless." I let out a huff of breath and sit back down as Peter and his goons walk away.
"That sounded like an Erudite," Christina says as she starts snipping my hair again. I tense at that, hopefully not noticeably. "But it's really cool. So far only you and Tris have stood up to him. He's been parading around like a king since we were all very young."
"Well, someone will have to again eventually."
"And he will never back down."
"Guns," Eric says, passing the floor before us, behind a table topped with loaded handguns. I've never seen one before, let alone nearly ten of them in a neat row, fully loaded, one of which I'll have to shoot. Repeatedly. "They are your main weapon whenever one is at your disposal. If you are being attacked and you have a gun, use it. If someone wants to fight you and you have a gun, use it. If you have it, you use it. Now, come and take your gun and get ready to fire at the targets."
We all step forward and take our guns and our stance as Four shoots, showing us the proper stance and grip. I mimic it, line it up with the target, and shoot.
A/N: I did the math. Hair grows, on average, half an inch each month. That means six inches each year. Marcus doesn't cut Grace's hair for her, so her hair hasn't been cut since she was fourteen years old (when Four left), meaning two years of no hair cut. Two multiplied by six is twelve. Add that to the (about) two and a half feet that Tris has in the movie (since I'm using that as the Abnegation girl hair norm), you get right around three and a half feet, give or take a few inches. Trust me, that's a lot of hair. My hair is about the length of Tris' and I have a friend whose hair goes to her waist. It's a major difference.
And thanks to all of you who have read/liked/followed and to AmityBlight101 for the comment, especially since this is only chapter three.