Hey guys! Thank you so much for your support on the last chapter, it's so encouraging! Small reminder to check out this story's Instagram page , the details are in my profile (I just wanna talk to you guys!)

On a more serious note, this story is rated M and there is frequent and descriptive mentions of a suicide attempt in this chapter. Please be safe, and don't read this if you feel like it may upset you.

I hope you enjoy this chapter!

A bright light erupts through the room. I groan, squeezing my eyes shut and burrowing further under the blankets, but as I do, I find myself bumping into a solid figure. Who is now also groaning.

My eyes fly open and I rip the blankets off me – yet as soon as I do so I'm greeted by a sudden head rush from moving too fast. Before I can gather my surroundings, there's a sudden thud on the bed next to me and I find myself being pulled back down, trapped under someone's arm. I struggle a little, confused and startled, but stop when I hear a quiet whisper.

"It's choosing day."

Immediately, I can tell it's Uri. I must have slept in Zeke's bed all night, which would explain the figure next to me who is now stretching its long limbs.

I turn around in the bed to face my brother. His eyes are wide and concerned, dark circles under each. Did he get any sleep last night?

It occurs to me that I haven't spoken to my brothers at all about today. I haven't said one word about my aptitude test results to them, nor have I made any indication that I will be choosing Dauntless. They must have no clue about how today will go.

They must think I'm going to try and leave them again. Though this time, in a different way.

I smile at my brother. Still weary from sleep, my words come out as a half mumble.

"Don't worry, Uri. I'm not going anywhere."

On the other side of me, I can feel my eldest brother relax.

…

The choosing ceremony is busy as ever, people bustling about and trying to grab multiple seats so they can sit with their families. I can see so many parents with their concerned gazes, fretting about their children in some desperate attempt to make them stay at home. Others appear not to care – as if their children weren't about to make the biggest decision of their lives.

Part of me wonders if I'll see my old parents in the crowd today – though I don't know how I would react if I did. I don't want to see them.

Yet, my eyes still dig through the hoards of people, straining to catch a glimpse of those who hurt me so much. Do they still care? Did they ever?

From where I sit, I tug the sleeves of my shirt down a little further.

I shouldn't care about whether they're here or not. It's been four years without word from them, since they decided they didn't want me any more.

The ultimate selfish act. Suicide.

...

I wake up in the hospital to the sound of a heart monitor beeping next to me. By the ice blue walls and clinical smell, I can tell I'm in the Erudite hospital – for intensive care.

I'm alive. Somebody must have found me – they must have taken me here. Was it mom? Dad? Did someone care enough to drive me to the hospital?

It's night. Only a small sliver of light lands upon my bed from one of the lamps illuminating the street outside my window. The rest of the room is dark, cold. There's nothing warm about the Erudite hospital. The seats next to my bed are empty – in fact, it looks like they haven't been used once, from where they sit perfectly aligned with the wall. Even in death, there's nobody here for me.

Swallowing hard, I go to check my wrists, but as I move them a sharp pain courses up my arm and I let out a shout. Hissing, I clench my eyes shut and wait for the pain to subside. But even as the physical pain passes, I can feel a stab in my heart as I think about those empty chairs next to my bed.

Nobody is here for me. I'm alone.

I lie there with my eyes shut until I hear the door open. By the click of the heels on the ground, I already know it isn't my mother, and don't bother to open my eyes.

"Clara Mckennick? I know you're awake. I heard you shout."

The voice is hard, steel. There's nothing caring about the way this nurse speaks to me. I wonder how many suicide attempts she's seen in her day. I can't imagine it's lots. People are supposed to be happy in their faction.

I blink my eyes open and stare at her. Her immaculate hair is matched by her immaculate clothes – a knee length pencil skirt and a tucked in blouse, both in varying shades of blue. She's not young, the one or two grey hairs an indicator of her age. Despite that, there are no laugh lines on her skin.

"We need to fill out some details about you."

I close my eyes again and sigh. I'm too tired for this. I'm too tired for everything.

"Can't my parents do it?"

She lets out a tsk noise before taking a step closer.

"I assume your parents are the ones who dropped you off? They aren't here," She clips. "In fact, there hasn't been anyone here since you were admitted two days ago. It really is prudent that we receive your details."

"Additionally, I've been told to share some bad news with you." Only now do her eyes soften a little, something which would look a little like sympathy if she didn't immediately regain her steely composure. "Your faction, Abnegation, no longer accepts you as a member after what you attempted."

A strangled gasp escapes me. Twelve years old and factionless. I bite my lip, hard, to stop the sob that is forcing its way up my throat from escaping me.

I guess that's what I get though, for attempting the ultimate selfish act.

…

A hand squeezes my own. My eyes rip open and I turn and stare at my brother, who can somehow always tell what's going on in my mind.

"Sweetheart, you're crying," Zeke whispers, brushing some tears off my face that I didn't even know fell. "They're not here, are they?"

My heart swells for my older brother, whose soft side only ever comes out for me. Around Dauntless his attitude changes completely: he's the hard, slightly intimidating man who will do anything to protect his siblings. My situation, of not being their sibling by blood, has made our bond stronger than I thought possible. We're inseparable.

"I don't want them here," I whisper quietly, leaning my head on his shoulder. To my other side, Uri turns around and sends me a soft smile.

I swallow and look towards the front, where a knife sits on the table in front of the fives bowls, one representing each faction.

"I'm going to have to cut myself with that knife, aren't I?" I breathe to my eldest brother. I don't bother to hide the fear in my voice: I have not used a knife for anything other than cooking since I was twelve. I haven't wanted to since. And now... I'm going to have to revisit that dark place to slit open my palms like I once did my wrists just to pledge allegiance to a faction.

"You'll be okay," Zeke murmurs, but it sounds more like he's reassuring himself than me. His hand squeezes mine tighter.

Decisively, I wipe my face completely, making sure there is no trace of my tears. I force my face into a neutral expression and remind myself that I am going to choose Dauntless, and become a full member there – with my real family. The ones who would never leave me like my old parents – my old faction – did.

The roar of voices dies down as soon as Jeanine Matthews enters the room. I can't say I often judge people on their appearance, but Jeanine is a special case. With her platinum blonde hair swept up into what could be an elegant, but is so tight it looks strict and scary bun, and her blue pant suit that looks like its been tailored just for her, she is the intimidating kind of woman that I don't ever want to meet. These days most people from Erudite give me a bad vibe – the harsh, unfeeling atmosphere of the hospital I was in and the way they looked at me – me, a suicide survivor – as if they resented my very being. As if I were a blip in their system.

She stands at the front with a cool confidence that radiates through the room. When she speaks, I am paralysed.

"Today, our youth make the greatest decision of their lives," She starts. Her authoritative voice cuts through the room like a knife, but there is no need. Everybody is already silent, still. "May they choose wisely."

Her eyes scan the room, and I swear I can feel them land on me.

"Faction before blood."

The choosing ceremony begins with the call of 'Arthur, Daniel' from Amity, who chooses Candor, and I watch as the apparently permanent smiles on his parents' faces falter slightly.

I try to zone out most of the ceremony, but my attention is drawn by one character, an Erudite. His cold eyes meet mine as he walks across the stage to the knife Jeanine holds in her hand. They don't leave mine as he cuts his hand and his blood drops onto the Dauntless coals.

A shiver runs down my spine, but I try to conceal my discomfort. I'm next, after all.

"Clara...Pedrad," Jeanine barks. I loose a sigh of relief as they use my new surname, instead of my old one. I want no association with my old name.

I stand on shaking legs, and cast one last look at my brothers before I make my way to the stage. I grasp the knife that is handed to me, and I grip it so tight my knuckles turn white. By now my whole body is shaking, it feels as if I am connected to a live wire, and electricity is ripping through me at the speed of light.

It takes every ounce of my self control to press the cool blade to the inside of my palm, and every ounce not to cry out at the pain that explodes in my hands as I drag the knife across my skin. For a moment, I stand, mesmerised by the trail of blood weeping from my cut, before I regain my thoughts and force my hand over the Dauntless coals. The resulting cheer is deafening.

It appears I've made a name, and a home, for myself in Dauntless.

…

It's not the falling that scares me. It's what waits at the bottom.

A whole crowd of Dauntless, who will now recognise me as first jumper – who will put insurmountable amounts of pressure on me to excel from this point forward. A reputation as first jumper always turns out one of two ways – either you do exceptionally well at Dauntless or jumping first is your one high point and it goes downhill from there.

But I'm determined to do well here. I must succeed – there's no other option. So when they ask us to jump, I am the first on the wall, and I am the first to take a step forward into the abyss.

I let out a shriek as I fall, but it's one of delight. I'm entirely weightless for the first time in my life, and there is nothing more exhilarating than dropping from the sky without one of my troubles on my mind.

It's over all too soon, and I hit the net hard, landing once, twice, three times before it stops bouncing. Before I can focus, strong, warm hands wrap around my shoulders and drag me out of my little cradle. I'm placed firmly on my feet and I look up to find Eric, looking down at me grumpily.

"Of course the Pedrad is the first jumper," He grumbles, looking entirely unscathed from our fight yesterday. I, on the other hand, have bruises on my back from where I hit the floor so hard, that now ache from the impact of the net.

"Worried I'll do better at initiation than you did?" I throw at him. His eyes flash dangerously, and it's suddenly a lot more noticeable how proud and tall he stands, his bulky muscles obvious under his uniform. I suddenly don't feel so brave under his piercing stare.

Instead of replying, he shoots me a dark look before turning to the crowd behind us and bellowing.

"First jumper!"

…

It turns out that there will not be separate dormitories for the initiates this year.

There are only three transfers, two from Candor and that Erudite boy who wouldn't stop staring at me throughout the choosing ceremony. Sharing a room with him seems like the least enticing thing in the world to me at the moment, though I suppose I am used to my own room, with a big double bed at home with Zeke and Uri. Internally I chide myself for being so spoilt.

As we make our beds in the dorm, I find myself sharing a bunk with the girl from Candor. Her dark brown hair shines as it swishes around her shoulders as she goes to put on her pillowcase. Her eyes are unusually kind for someone from Candor, and I can already see the beginning of laugh lines at the side of her eyes.

"So you were born here, huh?" Marina asks. Her voice has a sort of melodic ring to it, and I almost begin to wonder if she actually came from Amity, not Candor.

"Yeah," I reply, forcing myself to smile. Unusually, it doesn't come too difficultly. "Born and raised."

She breaks out into a grin.

"You're going to have to give Dean and I some extra pointers then, we're both rubbish fighters."

She inclines her head to the boy making his bed at the bunk next to ours. His head perks up at the sound of his name, and he gazes at us curiously. I find myself noticing that he looks only really at Marina, his eyes full of affection and fondness. A small pang of jealously rings through me, but I ignore it. I already have everything I need.

"That sounds good to me," I say, smiling properly this time.

Across the room, we get occasional glares from the boy from Erudite. I found out that his name is Mason Andrews, and that he jumped straight after me.

He creeps me out entirely, but with any luck, I won't have to speak to him much. I just have to focus on getting through initiation, maybe become actual friends with Marina and Dean. They seem like nice people.

It's looking hopeful.