Swiftly I walk up the garden path to my parent's pristine home. Gravel crunches beneath my feet, making my presence audible as I take more steps. I reach the door and ring the modern styled doorbell. A sweet sounding tune signals and my dad comes to the door. He smiles wirily, the signs of old age approaching. He welcomes me in as he would with any guest and sits down on the sofa; he beckons me over to sit beside him and I do without hesitation.
"It's good to see you again Jeanine," he says warmly. I smile at the thought of being home and reply
"Yeah, it's good to see you to dad"
"So what brings you back here? Shouldn't you be studying?" he questions.
"Uh yeah but its visiting day so I thought I would pay you a visit" I look down sheepishly, not knowing how to proceed with what I want to say. Finally, I come up with the courage to say it, already knowing I might as well face up to the fact that I need to talk to them about my problems. I rub my sweaty palms against my skirt and clasp them together, hoping it will make me feel a bit more confident and calm.
"Look… Dad I want to talk to you about something. I need your advice," I say quietly, ashamed of what he may think of me.
"Well I'm glad you asked me instead of bottling it all up like you used to" he says patting my shoulder. He stands up and walks over to the staircase.
"I'll go get your mother, she should be in the office working again but if something's bothering you I'm sure she will have plenty of time to listen to your worries and help you"
"Uh thanks" Is all I can say. I am nervous about telling them and I cannot help but bite my nails. It is an old habit I cannot get out of and I must learn to stop doing it at some point in my desolate life. My dad leaves the room and it seems like ages until he returns. Curiously, I turn around to face him and as I do so, I see my mum's elegant but stern figure walks down the stairs. She has sharp features and a regal posture, which shows her authority and character on a whole. She sits down beside me and my dad sits on the other side of the open spaced room.
"So what was it you wanted to talk about?" she says calmly.
I look over to her and try to regain my confidence to tell her.
"I have something to tell you but I'm worried about what you might think," I say pitifully.
"Look you can tell us anything. You know that and we won't think any differently of you because we love you" She smiles heart warmly.
I sigh and tell myself not to worry.
"Okay, well I found out I have an aptitude for more than one faction, the test administrator named it as being Divergent. I'm confused and troubled as to what it means" Just after I said that the room falls silently. I scan my parents faces for signs of a response but all I see is the sheer shock and profound devastation at the news I have beared them.
"Mum? Dad?" I question, feeling a pang of regret and disappointment with myself. My parent's faces are bereaved with a completely different emotion I cannot figure out. I know it was wrong of me to say but I need to know what to do. Perhaps I will never be able to sort it, I should never have told them.
Eventually my mum says something.
"Are you sure that's what she said? Are you sure it isn't a mistake?" She says slowly, trying to get used to the idea.
"I'm sure mum. I swear I am not making this up if that is what you are thinking, I know this may be hard for you to get used to but I need your help. Please just try to help me." I plead, sounding desperate for a chance. Nothing is more important to me, at this current time, then this. I need to know what to do.
"I'm going to help you Jeanine because this is a very serious matter. Look at me. You must never tell anyone about what is happening. Do you understand me?" She says with the recognizable tone of authority and seriousness. I nod not knowing what else to do.
"I have heard rumours of these cases for years but I was never certain as to if they where true. Hearing this has now confirmed my theory and I think I already have a solution," She continues saying with the distinctive tone of notion on the possible solution she may have already formed.
"So what's the solution?" I question.
I watch my mother as she stands up. Her lustrous grey eyes gleam in the sunlight protruding through the blinds. I think back to what my father has always told me. He believes I have adopted my mothers' looks and I suppose he is only half-right. Through receiving 23 chromosomes from my mum and 23 from my dad, I have received similar characteristics as my parents, which he is partly correct even though I hate to admit it. She walks to the stairs and beckons for me to follow her. Her delicate hand skims the surface of the railing as we ascend the glass staircase. She walks with confidence and an unidentified power, something of which I would like to acquire for when I am older. She is a respected member of the Erudite community, she has captured my admiration for her, and she is the only possible role model I will ever have. She leads me down the hallway until we reach her office, a small room with a profound feeling to it. Despite the enclosed structure of the room, it is well appointed with luxurious furniture and modern technology well suited for such a person with a laborious job in the top sector of Erudite. Carefully I sit down on one of the leather chairs beside my mother's desk, the feel of the leather cold on my skin as I lay my elbows on the armrests. My mother gives me an inquisitive smile as she crosses the room and sits down in the chair behind her desk.
"Firstly I think it's best if I tell you what your condition means," she says with an assuring tone.
"w- What do you mean condition?" I falter nervously.
"To put it simply being Divergent is thought to be a genetic modification made at birth but no one knows for sure what has caused this modification to specific children. So it got me thinking about this and as of recent reporting's of cases such like this I decided to do some research"
Since saying this, she brings out a folder packed with pages of information and sets it down on the burnished glass table before her. I consider what she has just said, the possibilities of what she just meant seems endless to me.
"So what did your research deduce?" I ask wanting to know the full extent of my condition.
Passing me the folder, she says,
"Everything in this folder is my life's work of research starting from when the cases were revealed, it includes everything you need to know included possible ways of how to cure your condition. No one knows as of yet what the course of treatment is but luckily for you I have already found out"
"So why haven't you told anyone about this? It could be a way to establish new forms of treatment and medical procedures to help those with this disease! It could change everything in Erudite history and you would be the one accountable for this groundbreaking revolution," I say with the utmost excitement.
"Maybe so but if the test administrator told you, you would know that being divergent is extremely dangerous and by all means you should not have even told me about your condition" her words slice through my thoughts but I must not stop now, I have more questions that need answering.
"But why is being Divergent dangerous? I do not understand" I lace my fingers together to keep them from trembling. When I first came here today, I did not expect this outcome of what now seems to be my sickness. I thought that everything would be fine considering I told my parents of one of my troubles at least.
"Like I said all you need to know about your condition is in that file, it should answer all your questions but none the less if you do have further questions don't hesitate to ask me. I know what you are like Jeanine and you think you can solve all your problems yourself but your wrong; it surprised me that you have even come to see us about your condition" She says in a surprisingly arrogant tone.
Suddenly I am filled with a type of anger I never knew existed, something that should not exist in a world trying to achieve peace. Hastily I stand up, almost knocking the chair over as I do so.
"Oh? And you never thought to wonder why I have not told you about anything that is bothering me? Well here's why. You were always caught up in work to even listen to me. I always felt that I had to bottle everything up or else I would seem weak in the world of business and intellect. You always told me not to let my emotions cloud my judgment over matters and that includes family worry's. Well listen to this mother! I used my judgment not to tell you anything until now because I knew you would react this way and to be frankly honest I doubted you would even help me because you lack the emotional balance to be able to give proper advice!"
My eyes burn with tears and I curl my hands into fists to stop them from trembling even more. Before my mum can say anymore, I head to the door in hopes of leaving this conversation or what was turning into and argument at a dead end. However, to my surprise my arm is being held back to stop me from moving any further. I struggle to get free but my mothers grasp tightens, I feel the burn of her nails digging into my skin and I fight to hold in a gasp of pain.
Why won't she let me go!
I think in an egger outburst to escape my mother's shockingly strong hold.
"How dare you say that about your own flesh and blood? I raised you and brought you up to be a strong independent women. I did this out of the goodness of my own heart because I know the dangers you will face by going out into the world of work. Your future employer will want nothing to do with your emotions and that's why I told you its best not to rely on them" She replies raising her own voice.
Exhausted I turn around to face my grief stricken mother.
"So that's why you have condemned me to a life of suffering and knowing that I will have no guidance in this labyrinth of preposterous endeavours of growing up!" I shout back, tears falling down face. Without hesitation, she draws her free arm back and strikes my tear-ridden cheek. Pain instantly emerges from where she hit me and I cry out in pain. My legs feel weak with adrenaline and I finally manage to catch her with her guard down, allowing me pull free from her hold. The next few minutes that follow are a haze to me as I run out the house. I hear shouting behind me and I try my best to block it out, I know my mother and father are calling after me but I continue running until I know I have gotten as far away from them as possible. Along the way, I only have one thought on my mind.
I will not let them beat me.