CHAPTER 3:
Cassie
Mirrors cover the inner walls of the room. A woman in Abnegation grey walks over to close the door. I glance at her.
She has dull brown hair in a neat bun and steel grey eyes. I notice she avoids the mirror.
I suddenly see a reclined chair, like a dentist's, with a machine next to it. It looks like a place where terrible things happen.
"Don't worry," the woman says quietly, "it doesn't hurt." I almost jump when I hear her talk.
"Have a seat,'' she says. "My name is Mary." I sit in the chair and recline, putting my head on the headrest.
I squeeze my eyes shut to avoid the lights hurting my eyes.
Mary busies herself with the machine on my right. I try to focus on her and not on the wires in her hands.
''My name's Cassandra'' I say. Cassie or Cass is what my friends call me. It doesn't feel right to let a stranger call me that.
Mary raises her eyebrows. ''I've never met an Amity who wasn't upbeat.'' She says. I shiver, and goose bumps appear on my arms.
My lack of cheerfulness is a mistake, a betrayal of Amity values.
She passes me a vial of clear liquid. I glance down at it. I press air from my lungs and tip the contents of the vial into my mouth.
My eyes close.
My eyes flutter open. To my surprise, we are in the school cafeteria.
All the long tables that we sit at are empty and I can see through the glass walls that it is snowing. On the table in front of me is two baskets.
In one is a hunk of cheese, and in the other, a knife. I hear a woman's voice.
''Choose.'' I glance at the baskets startled. Does she want me to choose from them? ''Choose'' She repeats.
Slowly I inch closer to the baskets. My hand wavers over the cheese.
Should I choose the cheese though? The knife would be more useful, plus I could defend myself in a fight. I close my hand around the handle of the knife.
I suddenly hear something squeak and whip around to see a dog creeping toward me.
My heart beats and I realise it sees me as a threat.
Slowly I drop the knife and bow my head. I will not hurt it.
With a snarl, the dog leaps at me. I prepare myself for the inevitable pain waiting for its teeth to sink into my arm- I feel the dog lick my face.
I hear a shaky laugh emerge from my throat. I stand up feeling calmer.
I blink and when my eyes open, a child stands across the room wearing a white dress.
She stretches out both hands and squeals, "Puppy!" As she runs across the side I am ready to shout to her but I am too late.
The dog turns about to pounce. Its muscles bunch as it hurtles towards the girl. .
Frantically I search the floor hunting for the knife-a glint of steel catches my eye and I grab it.
I glance at the dog and see it is almost near the little girl.
''No!'' I yell and bring my knife up. I close my eyes and let the knife fall from my hands.
When I open them I glance at the knife. It is slick with blood. I sink to my knees.
''I'm sorry,'' I say to the dog quietly. My eyes flutter shut.
Instead, I am alone—in the testing room, now empty.
I turn in a slow circle and can't see myself in any of the mirrors. I push the door open and walk into the hallway, but it isn't a hallway; it's a bus, and all the seats are taken.
I stumble and grasp onto a pole- it feels odd to be on a bus.
I haven't been on one since I was little. Sitting near me is a man with a newspaper.
I cannot see his face but I notice his hands are scarred.
"Do you know this guy?" he asks. He taps the picture on the front page of the newspaper. The headline reads: "Brutal Murderer Finally Apprehended!"
I stare at the word "murderer." It has been a long time since I last read that word, but even its shape fills me with dread.
Murders are not common among the Amity- we are not told about them as it would ''disrupt the peace''- but even now I still feel sick whenever the word ''murderer'' is mentioned.
In the picture below the headline is a young man. He has a plain face and a beard.
I feel like I know him but would be a bad idea to tell the man that.
A bad idea—no, a very bad idea. My heart pounds and I clutch the pole to keep my hands from shaking, from giving me away.
If I tell him I know the man from the article, something awful will happen to me. But I can convince him that I don't.
''No,'' I say trying to muster some Amity spirit. The man stands and I see his face. His face is scarred-like his hands- and his mouth is curled in a snarl.
"You're lying," he says. "You're lying!"
"I am not."
"I can see it in your eyes."
I curl my hands into fists. ''You cannot.''
"If you know him," he says in a low voice, "you could save me. You could save me!"
I set my jaw and meet his eyes glaring at him. ''Well, I don't''
Then everything goes black.