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Well, here's chappie four!

I am going to update every Friday/Saturday.

Tris POV

My mind felt foggy. I cut my hand, but it felt familiar.

"I think I've already chosen," I said, looking at the crowd. They stared back at me blankly.

"Choose, honey." Mother was at my side. "Choose quickly. Hurry, Beatrice! Please! Choose who you want!"

I looked at the bowls. The sizzling coals, and the grey stones. "But I chose Abnegation," I murmured, "remember?"

She sobbed. "No, Beatrice! Choose Dauntless! You must hide your-" She whispered the last word, "-divergence."

I shook my head. "How do you...?"

"Hurry! Beatrice! Now!"

I swallowed, biting my bottom lip as my arm jerked.

My blood sizzled on the coals, and I realized I should've chosen this.

I jerked awake. "Mom!" I screamed. Tears welled in my eyes. What was that dream about?

I started to move my covers off of me, when a sharp pain shot up my arm. Oh yeah, I thought, remembering the scratch.

Getting up, I went to the bathroom to shower. As I did, I noticed the dried blood crusting on the cotton balls and on my elbow. I threw the cotton balls away, washed off my elbow, and when I was done showering I replaced the cotton balls with one that was lightly dipped in alchol.

My stomach rumbled with hunger, and I looked in my plain grey fridge. I grabbed a bowl and put a little bit of leftover bread I had. I ate it in silence, then washed my dishes and decided to visit my mother and my father.

I would need to take something, though. Looking for something I could cook them, I sighed. I couldn't make another pot of peas. That would be rude.

Choosing Day is weeks away. There isn't a special occasion for anything. That crosses out frozen chicken.

I sigh. I can go tonight, right? That'll give me time to choose. I nod. Yes, yes, tonight.

I will make some bread. It's good enough.

I grab my supplies. I mix them as needed, and pour oil onto a paper towel. I scrub it into my pan, then pour the mixuture into it. I shove it into the oven and turn it on.

As I wait for the bread to cook, I sit on the counter. My feet do not touch the ground. I swing them, smiling lightly.

I must do this for a while, because the oven beeps. I panic, jumping from the counter and opening the oven. I grab a rag, then the pan. I shut the oven and switch it off, then place the hot pan on the counter.

I blow it, then pull out my small pink, plastic fan. It is old, because they are not manufactured anymore. I found it when I was 6, and I hid it under my bed. The foam blades were lime green. The batteries were weak, but they would do.

I switched it on and let it blow the hot bread. I place the fan beside the bread, and search for my small jar of syrup. Mother gave it to me secretetly when I turned 17, as a gift of my staying. She told me to hide it from everyone, since birthdays are never celebrated in Abnegation. They are self-indulgent.

I sprinkle some over the bread to make it sweeter. It smells nice, and I switch off the fan. I hide it back in the smallest drawer, under all the rags. I also hide my syrup in the bottom cabinet, behind the pots and pans.

Placing the bread loaf on a plate, I grab my robe and pull it over my body. I grab the plate as well, then walk out the door. I walk briskly to my parents.

When I get there, I knock lightly. I hear shuffling, then my Mother appears in the doorway. She smiles and ushers me in.

"Beatrice," my father says, "it is nice to see you today."

I bow to both of them. "It is even greater to see you, my family. I have brought bread with me."

He grins. "Why, thank you! We were just talking about the beautiful bread you make."

Heat rises into my cheeks. "No, thank you. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't know how to make bread."

He does not answer- he knows I am right.

Mother bows to me. She walks with me into the kitchen, and I slice the bread for them. I place it on plates, along with a small spoonful of jelly. It is not made from real grapes, like it used to be- it is made from a gel the Amity developed for us. In some ways, they are smarter then Erudite and kinder then Abnegation.

"Andrew," my mother calls, "come eat! Beatrice has served us once again!"

His laughter floats into the kitchen. He walks in, and sits at the table. I sit after Mother, then we all join hands. I faintly remember Caleb once sitting beside me.

We say our prayer, then begin eating. The bread is good, or at least good for an inexperienced chef like me. I feel pride rising in my throat, but I swallow it. Pride is not good. It is for the Erudite and Dauntless.

I scowl at myself, and continue eating.

Hey hey hayy :D

Okay... That was annoying. I apologize.

I hope you enjoy this chapter!

See ya next Friday/Saturday.

~Kitt