Hi there :) how are you all? So I wrote this new chapter. I hope you like it. You guys have been great at reviewing please keep it up :) I love to know what you all think about my work. I try really hard and I know it's far from perfect but I'm glad some of you seem to be enjoying it

as per here comes my "I do not own these characters. The fabulous Veronica Roth made then up and I'm just expanding on Christina because I think she's really interesting. You all an decide your own opinion on that :) Yes I know a lot of the dialogue comes from the book. You know that. I know that. We all know that. There is no way around it. Christina and Tris are both initiates and there is nothing I can do to make it completely different because it's a different pov not a different story.

Sorry to ramble. I doubt your still reading this. write bananas in you r review if you did actually bother reading this and I'll love you forever đź’•

"Since there are an odd number of you, one of you won't have to fight today."

My eyes skim over the board, noticing the lack of a partner next to Tris' name; well at least she gets a break. My eyes slide down, searching for my name. Shit. Molly. Well this won't go well.

"Well this isn't good." I nudge Tris, hiding a snigger when she grimaces in pain.

"Ow." Oops, looks like I hit a sore spot.

"Sorry." I mean it, honest. " But look. I'm up against the tank." The Mollster. The tank. The beast.

"The tank?" She murmurs, her eyebrows drawing together in confusion. She glances at the board, her eyes going wide when she notices who I mean. "Molly."

"Yeah, Peter's slightly more feminine-looking minion." I nod towards her, the monster. The hunk of flesh that formed one of the worst human beings I have ever met. "Those three have been inseparable since they crawled out of the womb, practically." I say, pointing at the offenders. "I hate them." The venom in my voice even scares me, if only a little.

I watch from a distant as Al and Will square up, my attention sending me back into the past. The torment that those bastards put me through. I hate them. I hate all of them. I remember the tears I shed each time they threatened me. How good I felt the day I finally fought back. The day I punched that smirk of the ratbastard's face.

"What's wrong with them?" Tris asks, her question pulling me back from my bitter memories.

"Peter is pure evil. When we were kids, he would to pick fights with people from other factions and then, when an adult came to break it up, he would cry and make up some story about how the other kid started it. And of course, they believed him, because we were Candor and we couldn't lie. Ha ha." I, of course, was subject to that type of behaviour, frequently. No one would believe me. I was that weird freak that didn't always tell the truth.

"Drew is just his side kick." I say, feeling my face contort into a look of disgust. "I doubt he has an independent thought in his brain. And Molly… she's the kind of person who fries ants with a magnifying glass just to watch them flail around." I may not be Candor but I can tell it how it is.

I hear the sharp smack of flesh against muscle, watching as Will stumbles slightly. Much to the amusement of that dick, Eric, he leans nonchalantly against the wall, his presence applying an almost palpable tension. I'm sure he knows how he makes us feel. I think he takes pleasure in it. I turn my head back to the fight, watching as Al takes tentative but controlled moves, hitting Will time and time again, I watch Will's feeble attempts at blocking the punches. Boy if half of us knew how hard this would be I bet we wouldn't all be here. We made our beds…

"I think they know we're talking about them." Tris whispers towards me, drawing my attention to the flock of bullies standing in the corner.

"So? They already know I hate them."

"They do? How?" I ignore Tris' question. Glancing back at the trio boring a hole in my skull with their glares. May as well have fun with this. I wave at the pack, sending them my warmest smile. Tris looks at the floor, a warm flush covering her face and collarbone. Maybe I'm a bit embarrassing.

"Because I told them." I say, answering her earlier question. I am part Candor at heart. " We try to be pretty honest about our feelings in Candor. Plenty of people have told me they don't like me. Plenty of people haven't. Who cares?"

"We just… weren't supposed to hurt people." She tells me, her voice small.

"I like to think I'm helping them by hating them. I'm reminding them that they aren't God's gift to humankind."

"Do you think this is a leisure activity? Should we break up for naptime? Fight each other!" Eric barks. His orders interrupting our conversation.

"But.. is it scored or something? When does this fight end?" Al asks, facing Eric.

"It ends when someone is unable to continue." Eric gruffs.

"According to Dauntless rules, one of you could also concede." Four interjects, earning himself a pointed look.

"According to old rules." Eric glares at Four. "In the new rules no one concedes."

"A brave man acknowledges the strength of others."

"A brave man never surrenders." Eric fights back. They glare at each other and for a moment I feel as if we are at a stand-off. Two alpha males fighting, neither ready to back down. Al wipes sweat from his brow, his forehead creased in frustration.

"This is ridiculous. What's the point of beating him up? We're in the same faction!"

"Oh, you think it's going to be that easy?" Will grins, an easy smile coming to his face. Clearly he understands how to obey orders. "Go on. Try to hit me, slowpoke."

They start a brutal game of catch, Al's frustration written clear as day, he charges at him, swinging wildly. The quarry lasts a few moments, right up until Al smashes his thick fist into Will's jaw. Will's body goes slack, hitting the mat with an almost final thud. His eyes roll back. If it weren't so scary the moment would almost be comical, watching Al's heavy set eyes widen, almost creating the perfect circle, his fist still clinging to the empty space where Will's face once was. I watch as the light leaves both of them. Will's motionless body bouncing slightly until coming to a complete stop. I watch the innocence leave Al's face, his once childlike features becoming harder, weathered.

Suddenly everything is in motion again, Al's large frame leaning over Will's lean one, his hands tapping him in the face, desperately attempting to get a rise out of him. Not likely.

"Get him up." Says Eric's harsh voice, his eyes almost pooling over with pride and greed. A smirk lights his brutal features and he walks up to the board, drawing a circle of victory around Al's short name. A circle of shame. His draws out the moment, as if savouring the change from innocence into adulthood. As if he enjoyed the prospect of survival of the fittest. He probably does.

He flips around, shouting both mine and Molly's names. It takes me a moment to realise he means me. A moment to realise it's my shot to fail. There isn't much I can do.

Before I realise it's even happening I'm in the middle of the ring, tucking my lank hair behind my ear, facing my tormentor. The demon of my childhood. I didn't want to fail, to lose, but I see no other option. My hand shakes before me, as if laughing at me, as if taunting me, offering me a similar outcome as Will.

Molly smirks at me, as if this is just another one of her fights, another chance to beat me into the dirt. Before I know it the fight has started, I look into Molly's small cold eyes, like a hawk, watching my every move. My foot strikes out, fast as a cobra, catching her off guard and causing her to gasp, as if surprised at my bravery. She smirks at me, a sure sign of the pain to come. She flies at me with the power of a tiger, pinning me to the floor. I can't breathe. I can't get this weight of me. I start to see stars at the corner of my vision. I see her strong fist come flying towards my face but I manage to dodge. The movement causing stars to appear at the edge of my vision. But she keeps coming back. Eventually I can barely see. All I know is the sharp pain that follows each thud. The jolt of fear that flies through me every millisecond. I feel thump after thump, her fist against my skin. My skin splits. I can feel the warm wet of my own blood. I feel the continual thud of her fist against my face. As if she were an enthusiastic musician and I was her sick version of a drum. I am done. Done with Molly. Done with pain. Done with being walked over. I drag my arm free, a primal scream rising in my throat. Putting as much power as I can I threw my fist blindly, feeling it connect with a warm wad of human. Stupid Molly. I feel the weight lit of me and I struggle to stand, the phantom feel of her weight stopping me from breathing. I feel my shoulders start to shake, my body filling with huge sobs I just want to let free. I crawl away, my vision still fogged by murky dark shapes. I feel something connect with the side of my body but by this point I'm so disorientated I don't feel the pain. It's as if I'm disconnected from my body. The pain is useless, barely there, just an ache. A whole body ache that I doubt will ever leave me. My skin will probably be a dark purple welt for the rest of my life. They'll have to bandage me up and surround me in bubble wrap. Put me in clouds, blankets. Anything to get rid of all the pain.

"Stop!" I hear myself wail, attempting to throw my arms up to stop the oncoming attack. My vision starts to clear, just a little. " Stop… I'm.." A hige cough fills up my body, clogging my throat as if it was filled with cotton buds. "I'm done."

"I'm sorry. What did you say? You're done?" Eric's harsh voice brings me back to reality, reminding me that I've probably just brought more pain on myself. Definitely.

"Get up." He orders. I attempt to stand, my wet, bloody hands slipping on the worn mat. I feel my blood stream down my face as I stand, holding onto my nose to staunch the bleeding.

He grabs my arm. His eyes amused as if he were teaching a petulant child a lesson. His fierce grip tells me he has worse in mind than a time out. He drags me behind him, pulling me from the mat and towards the door, his eyes harden, his posture changing from that of a superior babysitter to an angry leader.

"Follow me." He barks at the other initiates.

Thank y'all for reading. Please let me know what you think I love to ear your opinions be they good or bad.

i'll try and upload soon.

Byeee