There might be a third chapter. Don't get your hopes up.
~DB
Tris thought it was funny that she was in an afterlife. The Abnegation didn't believe in anything, she expected when she died, she would end up floating around in a dense grey fog with other dead Abnegations. But it didn't work that way; she ended up sitting in a house with her mother. She could feel the chair like anyone would feel a chair. When they sat on it, they would get pressure from their tailbone all the way up to their neck forcing them to lean back to take some of the strain off. Then they would feel the hard discordant wood digging into their vertebrate and eventually get off the chair.
Tris felt it similarly, despite the fact that she was not alive. She felt the wood digging into the flesh of her back and all throughout this eternal afterlife; it would be completely and utterly uncomfortable. Even so she was surprised to be sitting in an uncomfortable chair in the afterlife at all. It was considered selfish to think you would be living after the life you had. You should be thankful for whatever conscious life that you got.
"Mom, we need new chairs." She said when her mom was finished making scrambled eggs.
"What made you the boss of heaven's chairs?" she asked, half serious half joking.
"Who says that this is heaven? Tobias isn't here."
"Don't think like that, you can look in a mirror without me scolding you for once."
"Does that mean that when I peeked in the mirror and you yelled at me, you didn't really mean it?"
"I meant it to a degree, you shouldn't be looking in the mirror all the time. But yes, it was a bit ridiculous."
"That's good to know, I've had to look in the mirror to try and style my hair differently lately."
Tris took the fork in her hand (which still amazed her, her hand was completely solid to her) and began to shovel eggs into her mouth. They were a bit bland they needed salt.
"Please pass the salt."
"I know I know I'm still getting the hang of eggs."
Tris smiled and took the salt. She tipped it over her hand, letting the grains fall unto her outstretched palm. She sprinkled it over the eggs and watched it hit and disappear into the damp eggs.
She flashed a brief smile at her mom and picked up her fork. She stuck the eggs with it, and with a small poof, the fork dropped and she was whisked away to what everyone referred to as the 'spawn point'.
