Sorry I haven't updated recently, I have finals to study for! Hopefully I can get more chapters up over winter break, thanks!
Disclaimer: I don't own Divergent, still... Sigh...
Later that evening, in the dorms, the score for the fear landscapes are put up the order is: Me, Four, Eric, Will, Peter, Christina, Molly and Drew.
The next morning we wake up, eat breakfast and head towards the training room. The first thing I see when I walk into the room are the guns lined up on tables around the room with targets on the walls. Amar is waiting by the table and has a gun in this hand.
"The first thing you will learn in the physical aspect of training is how to shoot a gun, after that hand to hand fighting and last how to throw a knife." Amar starts talking as soon as we enter the room. After he finishes talking he turns to the table and starts passing out the guns, I feel the gun pressed into my hand, the cool metal so similar to how I felt in my stimulation, I guess I'll see if I can shoot for real.
Amar walks up to a shooting station, loads the gun and shoots a bullet dead straight. He shoots another round and this time I pay attention to how he shoots it, not where it ends up. His feet are planted shoulders width, his arms are straight out, way from his body and both hands are wrapped around the handle. He doesn't hold his breath, but breathes with the gun. The gun twitches a little as he shoots and the bullet ends up in the bulls eye again.
We all go to our shooting stations, Al is at one end, then Four, then me, then Christina and finally Will, the others fall in line on the other side of the room.
As everyone starts shooting, the room is filled with the loudest noise I've ever heard, I think I'm doing deaf, I don't know how I can concentrate with all this noise. I lift up my gun and try to ignore it. The gun is heavy and bulky in my small, childlike hands, I strain to keep the path from wavering and I think of my family and how they would respond to something like this. I take the though and mentally shoot it with the gun in my hand, I seriously have to focus, everyone else has been shooting forever, and I haven't taken one.
I brace myself, and hesitantly pull the trigger, the bang and the recoil make me stumble back and I put a hand on the wall to steady myself. I push myself off the wall, not wanting to look weak and this time. I plant my feet firmer, make my arms stiffer and raise the gun. I shoot of five more rounds each one threatening to push me off my feet. When I'm done and feel comfortable shooting the gun, I study my target, none of my bullets hit even the outer edge. I glance at Christina's and see the same thing, good, maybe I'm not all the far behind. I then glance at Four's target, the whole thing is riddled with bullets and most are now landing in the center.
I sigh and turn to my target, I plant my feet and this time, I am determined to at least hit the target. I do. It takes a couple more rounds, but I can consistently hit the center over and over. I smile to myself and see Four looking my way, I walk over to his shooting station, he and I are the only ones who can reliably hit the center, everyone else is still working at it.
"Nice job, I looked over five minutes in and you were already hitting the target." I look at him in amazement; he's perfect for Dauntless.
"Thanks, not bad yourself, you got it down pretty fast too." He looks down at me and I realize how small I am in comparison, I don't know why this thought strikes me now, I mean, I already know I'm childish, I shake myself from those thoughts and look at Four.
"I guess, I was having trouble keeping the gun straight and my feet planted. I guess one of the effects of being so short." Four laughs a little.
"Well, all things considering, you did amazing."
"Thanks." We can both tell that we're not used to flattery, so instead we survey the rest of our classmates. "How about a competition, between you and me?" I ask Four, knowing I'll probably lose.
"Sure, six bullets each, whoever makes more close or in the bulls eye wins."
"Deal." I shake his hand and move to my station to load my gun. "You first." Four shoots his six rounds all but two landing in the perfect center, the other two only centimeters away, if that. I look at Four and just know I have to do better, he's smiling at me in a way that it's as if he already knows he won. I smile back and pick up my gun to shoot, I take a few deep breaths and start shooting, all but one of mine land on the bulls eye. "Ha, I beat you." I say this in a joking tone, not one that is super bragging.
Four laughs and calls a rematch the next time we practice; we both shake on it.
By this time training is over and we eat dinner and hang out around the pit. This pattern repeats itself for several more days, the competition with Four comes and goes, with him as the winner.
Thank you so much to everyone who reviews, it means a lot to me! Thank you especially to bobo3129, I love constructive criticism!