𝑭𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑨𝑵𝑻 . Tobias Eaton

*ೃ༄ 4 ༄ೃ*

I stare at my reflection and trace my fingers down the peacock-coloured outfit I have on representing erudite. A faint tap on the door causes my head to turn where I see my mum leaning against the frame.

"You ready?" She smiled.

Mum, Parker and I walked out into the street alongside many other people from our faction but also from other factions. Entering the ceremony building, we wait for our turn to enter the elevator to take us up. Abnegation on the other hand couldn't wait and volunteered to take the stairs.

The crowd presses me forward, out of the elevator and into the room where I will decide the rest of my life. The room is arranged in concentric circles. On the edges stand the sixteen-year-olds of every faction. We are not called members yet; our decisions today will make us initiates, and we will become members if we complete initiation. We arrange ourselves in alphabetical order, according to the last names we may leave behind today.

Not even a single hug or goodbye from my family was given as we departed into the separate sections of the room. Rows of chairs for our families make up the next circle. They are arranged in five sections, according to faction. Not everyone in each faction comes to the Choosing Ceremony, but enough of them come that the crowd looks huge.
The responsibility to conduct the ceremony rotates from faction to faction each year, and this year is Abnegation's. Marcus will give the opening address and read the names in reverse alphabetical order, something I'm sure my mum will talk about later in her next report.

In the front middle there lie circles of five metal bowls so large they could hold my entire body, if I curled up. Each one contains a substance that represents each faction: grey stones for Abnegation, water for Erudite, earth for Amity, lit coals for Dauntless, and glass for Candor.

When Marcus calls my name, I will walk to the centre of the three circles. I will not speak. He will give me a knife. I will cut into my hand and sprinkle my blood into the bowl of the faction I choose.

My blood dissolving in the water. My blood sizzling on the coals.

I stare at my mum and Parker where they are smiling as they talk to the other leaders in erudite. My jaw clenches and my fists tighten. Why did I not belong?

The room gradually comes in order as each sit fills. Marcus stands at the podium between the Erudite and the Dauntless and clears his throat into the microphone. "Welcome," he says. "Welcome to the Choosing Ceremony. Welcome to the day we honour the democratic philosophy of our ancestors, which tells us that every man has the right to choose his own way in this world."

"Our dependents are now sixteen. They stand on the precipice of adulthood, and it is now up to them to decide what kind of people they will be." Marcus's voice is solemn and gives equal weight to each word. "Decades ago, our ancestors realized that it is not political ideology, religious belief, race, or nationalism that is to blame for a warring world. Rather, they determined that it was the fault of human personality—of humankind's inclination toward evil, in whatever form that is. They divided into factions that sought to eradicate those qualities they believed responsible for the world's disarray."

My eyes shift to the bowls in the centre of the room. What do I believe? I do not know; I do not know; I do not know.

"Those who blamed aggression formed Amity."
The Amity exchange smiles. They are dressed comfortably, in red or yellow. They seem kind, loving, free. All to which I never learnt.

"Those who blamed selfishness made Abnegation." 
Ruling out Abnegation was the only part of my choice that was easy.

"Those who blamed duplicity created Candor."
I have never liked Candor.

"Those who blamed ignorance became the Erudite." 
I blame ignorance; I do.  

"And those who blamed cowardice were the Dauntless."
But I am not selfless enough. Sixteen years of trying and I am not enough.

My legs go numb, like all life has gone out of them, and I wonder how I will walk when my name is called.

"Working together, these five factions have lived in peace for many years, each contributing to a different sector of society. Abnegation has fulfilled our need for selfless leaders in government; Candor has provided us with trustworthy and sound leaders in law; Erudite has supplied us with intelligent teachers and researchers; Amity has given us understanding counsellors and caretakers; and Dauntless provides us with protection from threats both within and without. But the reach of each faction is not limited to these areas. We give one another far more than can be adequately summarized. In our factions, we find meaning, we find purpose, we find life."

My mother's words echo through my head, 'faction before blood.'

Marcus adds, "Apart from them, we would not survive."

The silence that follows his words is heavier than other silences. It is heavy with our worst fear, greater even than the fear of death: to be factionless.

Marcus continues, "Therefore this day marks a happy occasion—the day on which we receive our new initiates, who will work with us toward a better society and a better world."

One by one, each sixteen-year-old steps out of line and walks to the middle of the room. The first girl to choose decides on Amity, the same faction from which she came. I watch her blood droplets fall on the soil, and she stands behind their seats alone.

The room is constantly moving, a new name and a new person choosing, a new knife and a new choice. I recognize most of them, but I'm faced with the shadow that my own mother is the leader of Erudite.

I hear my name and a shudder propels me forward. Halfway to the bowls, I am sure that I will choose Erudite. I can see it now. I watch myself grow into a woman in the lab coats belonging to Erudite, where I dedicate the remainder of my life to the fulfilled talent and knowledge I have on science and research. The certainty that I will be safe, and if not good enough, better than I am now.

Marcus gave me my knife. I look into his eyes—they are dark blue, a strange colour—and take it. He nods, and I turn toward the bowls. Dauntless fire and Erudite water are both on my left, one in front of my shoulder and one behind. I hold the knife in my right hand and touch the blade with my palm. Gritting my teeth, I drag the blade down. It stings, but I barely notice. I hold both hands to my chest, and my next breath shudders on the way out.

I open my eyes and thrust my arm out. My blood drips onto the carpet between the two bowls. Then, with a gasp I can't contain, I shift my hand forward, and my blood sizzles on the coals.

Despite my inner desire to share my wisdom, I am selfish, and I am brave.

I train my eyes on the floor and stand behind the Dauntless-born initiates who chose to return to their own faction. I find myself taller than a lot of them, something I did not expect.

But I must see my family one more time. I look over my shoulder at the last second before I pass them, and immediately wish I hadn't. My Mother's eyes burn into mine with a look of accusation. At first, when I feel the heat behind my eyes, I think she's found a way to set me on fire, to punish me for what I've done, but her face yet remains emotionless.

Beside her, my brother is smiling.