The Choosing Ceremony takes place at the top of the Hancock Building. We take the elevators to the top, crammed in together with some other Candor like a can of sardines. I'm edgy, which is a bad thing, because that means I'm also itching to hurt someone. I trip an Amity girl as we walk past - just a small sweep of the foot to the back of her heel. Just hard enough to tip her off balance. She wobbles precariously, comically, on one foot and stumbles back a few steps. I fight to hide a smirk. It's fun to watch people struggle. It's a powerful thing to be cruel, to be able to hurt people. I'll feel guilty later, but it won't change anything. It's like a drug. If you don't do it for a while, it feels like you're suffocating - like you're dying. And you have to release the energy. But the more you do it, the more you need it. Just a powerful drug within your own mind. I stand with Molly and Drew. They would return to Candor if it weren't for me, I'm sure. But my power over them is strong. I'm the cruel, dangerous, awed, and feared leader to them. And I've used it to my advantage. Only now do I wish I could ditch them. Wish I could tell them to take their own paths and leave me to start a new life, but that will never happen. They feel secure with me, after all these years of manipulation. I could've told them to join the wrong faction. But then I would be stuck with Drew, and if I'm going to be stuck with one moron, I might as well bring both so they can keep each other busy when I don't want them. I also wish I could use some subtle movement to tell them what faction I'm joining. It would've given me more time to think everything through, consider what I'm doing and what it will lead to. But they're too stupid for that. I told them last night, as we burned Candor symbols. We threw a wooden scale, a Candor flag, and a copy of the Candor manifesto into the bonfire. A final, physical rebuke of our faction, our home. I don't listen to the Abnegation leader's introduction. I don't listen as they start calling names. Molly's name is towards the beginning: "Atwood, Molly." She goes up, slices her palm, and quick spills her blood in the bowl. Nearly a third of the way through, someone calls "Hayes, Peter." The Abnegation leader gives me a small smile as he hands me the knife. He has interesting eyes - a dark blue with some lighter spots. And in those eyes I can see that he is not Abnegation through-and-through. He is pleased with his life, with himself. And I can also tell by the slight glimmer in the back of his eyes that he is in pain. Not the pain you feel because of a total loss, but the pain of disappointment and retrospective sorrow. I take the knife and move towards the bowls. I know where I will go from here. I also know that I cannot honestly choose any of the factions. The earth of Amity. I do not believe in kindness. I am a cruel, cold person. I hurt others for enjoyment. The glass of Candor. I do not believe in honestly. I've lied for nine years. Nine years, and I do not plan to stop. The water of Erudite. I hesitate at the bowl, already a pale brown-red color of sacrifice. I do not believe in knowledge. It simply aids me. Another tool. I move on. The grey stones of Abnegation. I do not believe in selflessness. I do not help people, I hurt them. I don't serve people, I use them. The burning coals of Dauntless. I do not believe in bravery. I do believe in strength, but that's not the same thing. I slice into my palm. I don't believe in any of it. I don't support any one faction. I'm factionless. I push deeper in my hand, remembering how I sliced my arms to shreds those nine long years ago. The blood wells up on my palm, threatening to spill over. I'll have a scar, to remember this decision. This new life. No, not a new life. A new chapter. Just a continuation of the survival games, with new rules, new ways, new faces, new cruelty. I let my blood sizzle on the coals, the smell of burning blood filling my nose. And I stand strong. I feel myself freeze inside. I will be Dauntless. I will never be brave, but I can be strong. Strong in my own, cruel way.