Disclaimer: I don't own Divergent.

The lone factionless woman looks back at us, and we all keep looking at her. This back-and-forth staring goes on for so long, it would be like a cheap joke from a bad comedy, if we weren't all seized by terror.

If the woman's afraid of us, we don't have any way of knowing it. She just stands there, completely nude, not even trying to cover the parts of her body that dangle loosely in the air. Her arms and legs are stick thin, her knees and elbows looking almost swollen in comparison. Her torso is so skeletal, it appears as though her papery white skin is stretched over nothing but bone. I can easily count the ribs that protrude from the center of her chest.

That isn't even the first thing someone would notice about her. Ever heard of this method of torture known by its self-explanatory name, "death by a thousand cuts"? Well, it looks like some trigger-happy Dauntless without access to a gun decided to try it on the factionless woman. If the surface area of her body were a piece of land, it would be marred by hundreds of fault lines, each of them oozing sticky brown blood like slow-moving magma. In between the long slash marks, I can see the uprooted soil of her lacerated flesh. The torn pink edges wiggle in place with every slight movement, almost enticingly, as if they like that I'm feeling queasy.

Finally, the woman lifts her head high, her ratty brown hair falling away from her eyes. She shows us the inside of her toothless mouth with a sneering grin. It's the smile of an animal, of an organism that doesn't even know what that facial expression means. Before I have time to analyze the woman's behavior, she stretches her jaws as wide as they'll go and screams at an obscene volume.

I leap back, my mind spinning dizzily.

I can't understand how she - it - made that terrible sound. I won't even call it a scream, no, because that would imply at least one iota of humanity. That noise, that… that primitive roar, that was something that only a demon could've released. Whatever it is that's standing before me, the faintest resemblance to something in the real world is my simulation monster.

Oh Jesus. Forgive me. I knew I was wrong to leave the Dauntless compound unsupervised.

Eric, Mia, and Shauna must share this thought, because we all turn and run at the same time. I look back once and my heart nearly stops.

The creature's body contorts crazily, its arms and legs appearing to seize up. It roars again, then staggers toward us in an unnerving half-run, half-dance. As it does, rivulets of blood run down the length of its body, looking like wet paint on an unfinished surface.

I urge my feet to move even faster, but fear is gluing them to the floor. It's only when Shauna touches my arm that I realize I have to get out of here. Else I'll be dead.

Ahead of us, I see Eric shove the door open and run out. Mia's right behind him. She'll definitely escape in time, but what about Shauna and me? I don't want to look at the creature again, but I can hear it dancing closer and closer.

I lunge for the door and give Shauna an aggressive push, so she'll be in front of me.

We burst out of the warehouse and into the fading sunlight. Eric and Mia continue to run, and so do Shauna and I. We all know that if we stop here, the factionless thing could grab us and drag us away. Just like monster-Marcus from my first simulation.

We've almost reached the end of the block when I decide to turn around for a last time, just to confirm that the creature's given up. Will I have to keep running at full speed, or can I slow down now? I squint at the deformed figure in the distance.

What I see nearly makes my heart stop for a second time, but for an entirely different reason.

The creature's still at the entrance to the warehouse. It's struggling to hold the heavy door open, possibly so it can chase the four of us down. It almost makes it out, but then it stumbles on something, a crevice in the pavement, something, and it crumples.

I stare at it, mostly out of pity. How can such a scary-looking monster be so pathetic now? I actually find myself feeling sorry for it, but then I remember Shauna, Mia, and Eric. They're finally slowing down and regaining their breath after running for their lives.

"Come on, let's go back," Shauna's saying. "We can't let that thing get us." Around her, the other two are nodding and agreeing.

My mouth's open before I can stop myself. "You… you go," I spit out. "Me… I'm going back to the warehouse. I think that thing, I mean, that woman, she could use some help."

Eric, Mia, and Shauna look at me like I'm possessed.

"What?" I defend myself. "I know you all got scared, but we need to look beyond the surface here. We walked into some factionless lady's house without asking, now we're about to leave when she needs help. I mean look at her, it's been a minute and she hasn't gotten up."

I gesture behind me to where the factionless woman's lying. Sure enough, she's gone totally still.

"Toby, she's dead, just go back with us," Eric hisses under his breath. I can tell his patience is wearing thin, but I couldn't care less.

"No," I say, making up my mind. "I'm heading back to the warehouse. Go on back to the compound if you want. I'm gonna go check up on that woman."

"What…" Shauna can't believe what she's hearing. I almost can't believe it myself. Shauna clears her throat, then continues. "Are you, like, okay?"

I smile thinly. "Yeah, I am," I say. Then I turn back, intending to walk back to the warehouse.

Shauna suddenly takes hold of my arm. "Don't," she practically pleads with me. Her fingers squeeze tighter. "If you go back there, you'll get yourself killed."

"No, I won't," I say. I pry her fingers from my arm and keep walking.

"Come back!" Shauna calls, sounding desperate, but I block out the sound of her voice. I don't know, something in me is telling me with an insistent voice to go check on the woman. Maybe it's just the shame I feel at thinking she was some supernatural being, something inhuman, and then realizing she is a person after all. Besides, she can't hurt me now, not after taking a nasty fall.

While I'm walking, I hear someone else's footsteps behind me. It's Eric, I know. "Don't try to talk me out of it," I say without looking at him. "Just trust me. Please."

Silence. Eric's considering what I said. Finally, I hear him speak. "Fine," he replies. "But I'll tell you just this once. If you get killed, neither me, nor Shauna, nor Mia's gonna come to get you." He turns on his heel and goes after the two girls. Leaving me to carry out the most foolish plan I've ever devised.

Yeah, it stung a little when he said that, but at least he let me go without much of a fight.

With that distraction gone, I focus on the distant figure of the factionless woman. She has yet to move from her prone position. When I get close enough, I stick out a foot and nudge her bony arm, trying to be gentle. Not a blip of a response from her.

A chill overtakes my heart. Did we really kill her?

I'm praying we didn't. I get down on my knees and put my ear next to her halfway-open mouth. She might still be breathing. Then I'll have some reassurance that she's not dead.

I'm listening hard, feeling for the smallest puff of breath, when she suddenly opens her eyes and lets out a snarl right next to my ear.

Oh Jesus! Fear explodes inside my chest. I scuttle backwards on all fours, like a scattering cockroach.

Yet I know it's already too late. I stupidly chose to go back to the person who almost killed me and my friends. Now I'll die like Shauna said, and I won't even get a funeral.

My eyes close tight and I wait to feel a knife at my throat, or in my stomach. But when a few excruciating seconds go by and the deathblow isn't dealt, I reopen my eyes.

What's… going on? The factionless woman is completely calm now. She's just sitting before me, not trying to start a fight, or make any more ungodly sounds. She almost seems like… a civilized person.

The fact that this was the monster that chased us is hard to fathom. I must be doing something weird to show how stupefied I am, like blinking over and over, or staring with my jaw slack, because the factionless woman calls me on my discomfort.

"Look at you, little boy," she rasps. Her vocal cords must've been damaged somehow, because it takes a whole lot of effort for her to talk. She grins at me. "I see a shiver running down your spine. I can hear your teeth chattering. Are you scared of me?"

I just look at her. She sits there, patiently waiting for my answer.

I am scared, but I don't want to insinuate that. That would likely offend the woman and possibly set her off. So I slowly shake my head, not daring to utter a word.

The woman's not happy with my response. "Come now, little boy," she says almost mockingly. "You can speak, can't you? Won't you give me a 'yes' or 'no'? Come on, speak to me."

I'm so scared by this point that I'm forgetting how to speak. I try in vain to move my tongue. I probably just look like an idiot.

"Come on, I promise I won't bite," the woman mocks. A second later she adds, "Hard, that is." She chuckles at her own joke.

At long last, I'm given my voice back. "No," I lie, trying not to stutter, "I'm not scared of you."

The woman eyes me for a moment, then she releases a sickening, phlegmy laugh. "Ha," she snorts. "Ha, ha. You, not scared of me? Just a moment ago, you wouldn't dare touch these old bones with anything but the bottom of your shoe. I can feel you shaking in your boots, that's how scared you are."

My cheeks get hot. It's unreal how quickly your fear can turn to anger when you hear the right, or wrong, words. "No," I repeat, louder this time. "I'm not scared."

And it's the whole truth. I'm no longer afraid, just pissed off.

My anger doesn't have any effect on the woman. She laughs again. I realize how much I hate her toothless grin. Why won't she put in an effort to take care of her dental hygiene? Does she know no one wants to look at the inside of that mouth?

As if she can sense what I'm thinking, she scoots forward, so she's in my immediate proximity. "If you're not scared at all," she challenges, "then prove it. Show me how Dauntless you are. Come and sit with me." She pats the spot directly adjacent to her mangled body, a spot close enough to her that, if I were sitting there, I'd have to touch her. "Sit here and let me give you a hug." She follows this up with another phlegm-filled laugh.

I'm utterly disgusted. But she's right when she says I'm Dauntless. We aren't the type to refuse a dare.

My teeth so tightly gritted that I fear they might break apart, I move and settle into the spot the factionless woman pointed out. I try to ignore the awful feeling of her bloody, sticky skin against my own. "What's the point of all this, huh?" I ask her. "You playing mind games with me? Messing with my head? That why you acted so weird, like you weren't even human?"

The woman's eyes glitter mischievously. She laughs once again, and a spray of phlegm shoots from her mouth. This one's the loudest, most obnoxious laugh of them all, and I want so badly to cover my ears against it. "Ha!" the woman shouts boisterously. "Ha, ha, ha! You and your ilk always fall for my little act. You always do. That's why I do it time and time again. I love it when you get scared and run for your lives." She titters, and I blush because she just described in perfect detail what Shauna, Mia, Eric, and I did.

For a factionless person, she sure knows a lot about what goes on in our minds. This revelation puts me on edge, and I don't like it.

"But why?" I demand. I'm angry again, and I don't care if she knows. "Why screw with us like that? Why not just talk to us, like a normal person would?"

"I would, if you would do me the same courtesy," the woman rasps. She pokes me with a bloody fingernail. "Don't show up uninvited in my house. Tell your friends with the big guns to leave us alone. Send your old pal Max here and let me sic my attack dogs on him." After this last bit, the woman cackles loudly, startling me. She seems to like laughing at her own jokes.

I'm completely bewildered looking at her. She surprised me so many times, I actually forgot why I came back here in the first place. "Look, I don't get why you're behaving like this, but you need medical attention," I say. "I could drop you off at the nearest hospital, or…"

"Save it," the woman suddenly snaps. I stare at her. Now she looks as enraged as I feel. Man, it's impossible to predict this lady's behavior.

I try again. "Come on, just let me help. I can talk to the hospital staff and…"

"Save it," the woman repeats, with even more acidity. I grow frustrated with her attitude.

"You're injured, you got a ton of stab wounds everywhere, they could get infected," I point out. "You could end up with blood poisoning. Don't be so immature, just come with…"

"Save it!" the woman screams. A giant drop of phlegm lands with a splat on my cheek. That shuts me up, but the woman's only just begun. She gets right up in my face, so I can smell her sour breath. "You're a real pain in the butt, you know that, kid? You're like an invasive species that won't go away. Well, just to let you know, I can cull this infestation with a single blow to your throat."

She crawls onto my body, straddling me, her hands lightly squeezing my neck. It's all I can do not to grimace or squeal. For God's sake, why did I believe I could help this mentally unstable freak?

I try to appease her. I force out a fake laugh and pull my lips up into a smile. "Okay, okay, I get it," I say to the woman, who's still on top of me. "I'm not gonna try to help. If you wanna die of infection so badly, I'll just sit back and let you."

Much to my relief, the woman lets go of my neck and unseats herself from me. "That's more like it!" she says with a grin. "You're learning, kid. It's sad that your compatriots in black never will."

"My… what? Oh wait, you mean the Dauntless," I say, sputtering a little. I need time to recover from the woman climbing on top of me. I hold out a hand to prevent any further advances. "Don't worry about the initiates, they aren't that bad. We're not even really Dauntless yet. I'm originally from Abnegation."

I expect the woman to soften when I say this. Dauntless doesn't have a good reputation among the factionless, but I think Abnegation does. My old faction's always provided the factionless with charity. But when I reveal where I'm really from, the woman's eyes narrow and she jumps back like I'm a live wire.

"By God, you're one of those bleeding hearts!" she exclaims. Her eyes are like two saucers on her head. "Don't tell me you're still fond of them. They're nothing but a bunch of snakes, and some of the most venomous snakes at that." She spits on the ground. "That's right," she reiterates. "Snakes!"

I'm backing up as she talks. Dang, so much vitriol reserved for the most generous faction in the city. Why, I want to ask, but I can't risk provoking an attack. I already nearly got strangled to death.

So I just nod and smile. "Yeah, they're not the best," I pretend to agree. "There's a reason I decided to leave. Other than their leader being a complete dick."

"Oh, yes," the woman cheers me on. "Marcus Eaton. What a hypocrite. Not the selfless public servant he claims to be, but a vulture that worships at his own altar. His fellow council members, too. More useless to this city than a bulldozer in a china shop. I don't care which of them you name, they're all expendable. If they all died tomorrow, I wouldn't give a damn."

I feel my heart rate going up. Initially I agreed wholeheartedly with the woman, now I'm having my doubts. Of course Marcus deserves to be hated. I just didn't know anyone would have a reason to say that about the other council members.

Not all the Abnegation are as hypocritical as Marcus… are they?

"I just wanna know, why do you hate the council so much?" I venture to ask the woman. "I mean, it seems like you hate them more than the Dauntless… why?"

The woman utters a low growl. Still on all fours, she slithers over to the door and, with great effort, forces it open. "Do you truly want to know?" she asks. "Are you brave enough to learn my darkest secret?"

What the purpose of this mind game is, I don't know. But if I don't play along, at least for a little while, I won't be able to get the woman help. I nod at her, and she smiles her trademark toothless smile and opens the warehouse door wide for me.

We walk into the woman's house. The same place Shauna and I decided to have sex. I want to cringe thinking of that now. There are far more important things for me to do here.

The woman's still having some difficulty walking, but I know she'll turn down any attempts at helping. I let her half-walk, half-dance over to the spot where Eric and Mia were earlier. There's a messy pile of old books there, something none of us initially noticed.

My heart relaxes a little. At least the woman's not uncovering a weapon. Also, she can read, she was as civilized as the rest of us once.

I wait, resisting the urge to tap my foot on the floor, while the woman searches through the stack of books, moving some of them around. She eventually comes up with a bunch of badly organized papers. Some of the papers are held together with paper clips, others are just single sheets. No one would mistake any of the papers for official documents, but the factionless woman seems to hold them in great importance.

"Here you go," the woman rasps, smiling proudly. "My big secret. Our big secret, actually. Plans for a factionless revolution." She strikes a mockery of a dramatic pose while holding the papers out, as though this isn't serious and she's just giving me a show.

I can only stare, my eyes bugging out. When she says "revolution", does she mean just her and a couple of her factionless friends, running down the council members with their books and sheets of paper?

"So you plan on usurping the council, huh? That's your revolutionary idea?" I raise an eyebrow at her.

I'm straining not to laugh. I do feel for the woman, but she seems to have no clue how this whole revolution thing works. She's gonna need a lot more planning, a lot more organization, and a few more weapons than that. I won't say anything about her unseen allies, but I bet she needs more of those, too.

The woman tries as hard as she can to look indignant, but it's near impossible with her nakedness, crooked back, and bad hygiene. "Don't mock me," she scolds. She throws the papers to the ground in anger. "If you'd look up from your pointless training exercises, you'd see how desperate this city is for a revolution. Your Abnegation and their little council must be overthrown."

"Why?" I demand, my voice rising. "What the hell's your problem with Abnegation? I can testify that Marcus at least is a shitty person. But the others? I'm willing to bet you'd have starved to death if not for the volunteers handing out food and clean water. Why the lack of gratitude, huh?"

The woman's seething when she looks at me next. I bet she wishes she could throw blades from her eyes, judging from the hateful glare on her face. "You idiot," she hisses. "You have no idea what it's like to be one of us. One of the factionless you despise. You ought to come join us for a day and gain a new perspective."

"And you ought to be a little grateful to the volunteers who work hard to feed and shelter you every day," I shoot back. "Clearly, you didn't even take advantage of their kindness, because you're walking around without clothes and your wounds are dripping blood all over the place. How about you stop being arrogant and just accept the help that you need?"

I'm ranting, and maybe I'm going too far, but that woman's just being purposely offensive at this point.

But I'm not getting through to her. She just gets even more riled up. "Fool!" she spits. "You fool." I back away in case she tries to pounce on me again. Her nostrils flare and her fingers spasm violently. "You may lecture like an Erudite, but you haven't got a brain. Have you ever asked yourself why we need your charity just to survive? Why, no matter how many soup cans you give us, we're still defecating in the streets and just barely scraping by? Is it perhaps because the root cause of our problems is not being factionless, but the refusal of your Abnegation to allocate enough resources to our part of town, so we wouldn't have a need for your charity?" She bellows the last word like it's an ancient curse.

I shrink back a little where I'm standing. I'm intimidated into silence, yet part of me gets why she's upset. It's definitely an affront to one's dignity to have to rely on others for survival. The Dauntless feel this too, to the point where most elderly and disabled Dauntless would rather commit suicide.

But still, I don't think it's right for the woman to condemn my former faction like that.

"Just chill out," I tell her, trying to keep my volume low. "I'll admit, you're right about the factionless not getting enough to eat. But what's the council supposed to do when resources are already scarce, and the majority of them are going to people in factions? Ever think about that?"

A scowl is the only response I get from the woman. I'm thinking I won the argument for Abnegation, when she speaks up again. "I'm honestly shocked that you never considered the possibility of simply getting rid of those factions. That way, things would be infinitely more equal. No more segregation, no more unfair distribution of resources. No more pointless tests, no more banishing kids from their homes! No more labeling of people! We'd all be free!"

During this rant, her focus slowly shifts from me to some invisible audience in the sky. She holds her bony arms high above her head, a radiant light in her eyes. Is she just acting again, or is she so delusional that she thinks she's spreading God's word?

I have to shake my head in disbelief. "Yeah, yeah, okay, so you say the council shouldn't be in charge. That's fair enough, I guess. To each their own, or whatever. But you just said the factionless should start a revolution. As in, you wanna incite violence. Start some riots, maybe. Kill dozens of innocent civilians. You think that makes you any better than us? Just take your concerns to the council, then things could be resolved peacefully."

"No." The factionless woman is adamant. She continues to look at the invisible God she's addressing. "We don't care about keeping the peace."

"Well, damn," I reply. "You're even less worthy of sympathy than I thought. You keep going on about doing the right thing, and yet you're not on the side of peace."

The woman takes several seconds to respond. She lowers her arms and lets her eyes go to the ground. What she mutters next, she says in such a low voice that I could've missed it, if my senses weren't all on high alert. "True peace is not merely the absence of tension," she says. "It is the presence of justice."

If she really believed what she just said, she would've said it in her usual loud, snarky way. But her voice seems to have been drained of energy. I would've sworn she was concentrating more on each syllable flowing from her open mouth, like she was trying her best to remember the words.

Like she was quoting someone else.

So I just roll my eyes at her. "Where'd you steal that from?" I ask her. "A comic strip? A fortune cookie? Something one of your factionless friends said on a random Sunday afternoon?"

The woman doesn't take the bait. She seems so much more composed now, less likely to react to my words with anger. Like her pretend conversation with God calmed her down somehow. Well, I won't make fun of her for that. Turning to God was something I did often during my difficult childhood.

While I'm reflecting on this, the woman turns her attention back to the disorganized pile of books. Once again she riffles through it, this time surfacing with one book in particular. I try to guess how many centuries have passed since its publication. Two, maybe even three? The spine has almost broken down completely and the dusty yellow pages are one touch away from crumbling to powder.

I still can make out the title, though.

Where Do We Go from Here: Chaos or Community?

Given that the city of Chicago is much older than the faction system, I'll bet that the author of the book was writing about a time before the factions. A time when there was no Abnegation, no Erudite, no Dauntless, and no tensions between any of them. No factionless, either. So how could the book's content have any relevance in this discussion between me and the factionless woman?

She's gonna tell me soon enough. "This is the book that gave us our revolutionary ideas," she tells me with barely concealed excitement. "The book that opened our eyes to new possibilities, new perspectives, a new way of living. Best of all, it doesn't go on and on about what a tragedy it is to live without a faction." She then holds the aging copy of the book out to me. "You really would benefit from reading it."

I pluck the book from her hand. I'm pretending to not care, so I can make it known to the woman that I still don't support her "revolution". But I gotta admit, the idea of a completely factionless society awakens my curiosities. The fact that this society was totally real gives me an even greater urge to start reading.

At least, I need to know who the author was. It's printed right on the book's cover. Some little-known writer named Martin Luther King, Jr.

"Never even heard of this person before," I say with exaggerated boredom.

It's the woman's turn to roll her eyes at me. "You'll learn once you start reading his work," she says. "You'll also learn why they don't want you to know about him." She smiles at me for what feels like the millionth time. "It's my hope that, once these revolutionary words reach you, you'll return and join our movement."

"Never gonna happen," I assure her.

"Can't know if you never try," the woman rasps. She raises one of her bony arms and uses it to gesture toward the door. "Go now. Take the book home with you. Keep it, actually. I don't want it back if no one else will read it. I'd rather you take as much time as you need to read and understand it."

This sudden turn in the conversation leaves me wanting more from the woman. But she isn't gonna elaborate. She'll want that "revolutionary" book to do the explaining for me. When I hesitate to move toward the door, she shouts, "Go!"

I don't need to get screamed at again. Holding the book carelessly in one hand, I run away from the warehouse for a second time. I note how dark it's gotten outside since I decided to go back to help the woman. I'm not sure I'll be able to recognize my path through the factionless and Abnegation sectors without light, but I won't have much of a choice after sundown.

My fault for deciding to step up and be the person Abnegation would've wanted me to be. My fault for giving the benefit of the doubt to the craziest, least stable person in the whole damn city. I expected to leave behind a whole, healed, saved woman, instead I'm the one loaded down with baggage. I'm the one stuck with the assignment of reading this random book, written by some guy from hundreds of years ago that nobody knows.

Man, choosing to be selfless sometimes backfires on you.

"What'd Amar say?"

Eric looks expectantly at Mia and Shauna as they walk in. They're all gathered in the transfer dorm, where Sean, Jason, and Amy are quietly dozing. Eric couldn't decide whether to go to Amar with news of the crazy factionless woman. Their little adventure in the factionless sector was supposed to stay a secret. They would've never even discussed it again, except among themselves, but what if the city's safety is about to be compromised by more of those savages?

In the end, the girls made the decision to go tell Amar. It's why Eric is completely dumbfounded when they reply, "He doesn't know."

Eric stares at them in silence. His eyes are asking, Why?

"You think we can afford to say something?" Mia argues. "They'll know we snuck out of the compound. That's a major offense." One glance at Shauna's face makes it clear that she agrees with Mia.

Eric finally speaks. "But…"

"Would you like to be factionless?" Mia takes a step toward him, like she's gonna threaten him into staying quiet. There won't be any need for such threats, though. She already asked the most important question.

"No," Eric replies, and the debate is over. Shauna tells Eric and Mia good night, then she leaves the transfer dorm. Thirty minutes later, when Mia's already fast asleep, Eric hears Tobias slip into the dorm from outside. He doesn't reveal much about what happened with the factionless woman. But that look on his face is a telltale sign that whatever he did, he won't be doing it again.

AN: Ok so this is a REALLY weird chapter. Initially I wasn't going to include this, but I felt it was too important to leave out. See, one of my biggest problems with the first Divergent novel, after going back and re-reading it years later, is how hypocritical Tris and the Abnegation are. They called out Erudite for their problematic views on the factionless, yet they didn't realize how problematic THEIR views also were. Sure, they were willing to give CHARITY to the factionless. They voted to give the poor people of the city HELP, but they never at any point saw the factionless as their EQUALS. If it's true that only Abnegation has the power to make decisions that affect the whole city, then they could've adjusted the system to give the factionless something like a guaranteed income, so they wouldn't always be one tier below everybody else. But the Abnegation never did that, which surprised me because aren't they the ones going on about how everyone should be equal and have access to the same resources?

Tris also at one point revealed her TRUE feelings on the factionless, when Will suggested that she'd have to pass the factionless sector to get to her school. She got offended at the mere suggestion that she could've been in close proximity to the factionless. You know, kind of like the liberals who SAY that they stand for racial justice, but then lock their car doors tight whenever a Black man in a hoodie walks by.

Yes, it's a stretch to imagine the factionless woman getting her hands on a book that, in this society, would almost certainly be banned. But there was no way I wasn't gonna mention the book, since THAT was where I got the ideas that the woman used to criticize Abnegation.

Obviously it goes without saying, but any quote in this chapter attributed to Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. does NOT belong to me.