The Honest

The Choice

White beams pulsed upon the surroundings in the marble layered room with urns laying in the centre, with the factions symbolised whilst in the sun's centre. Loud cheers came from the right; dauntless, quietness with whispers to the left; abnegations though in the midst sat a boy suited with the outfit of the faction. He was invisible between all with the light weighted shoulders and frail frame, he sat choosing to adapt his visions depth toward the five bowls filled with their own suited elements. he glanced toward his own factions bowl which was filled with water representing the ability to see right through all creations; to outweigh truth over lies, Candor. His eyes were dim hearing suited names by most hearing the Eatons boy though to everyone dismay he chose dauntless; his forehead pulsed while his lips laid drenched in anxious saliva, what will his choice be? where does he belong-it seemed everyone knew where they belonged; except for me. Names were flicked from the faction leaders lists until gravely skimming the lists eyeing the boys name; the candors representative tongue was filled with pausable disgust, matthew to everyone was equal to weirdness and oddness which was despised in all factions. The boy was called up with a snap from the faction leaders whilst his forehead beaten uncontrollably, glassy vision from the infinite tears shunned his face finding himself sitting by the small staircase walking down toward the centre of the room; the steps felt like a grand thousand hour walk as the lights stung his eyes walking closer to the bowls. Per the usual his forehead pulsed upon searching life's archives for a single answer; where did he belong? he knew he could never fit within the faction of candor nor abnegation, three bowls remained though he admitted that amitys happiness wasn't who he was though neither erudite as he displayed too many emotions for a intelligence machine; there was one more bowl shunning his peculiar field of vision-Dauntless, he knew that this was the answer determined for so long. As the metallic knife slit into his hand falling to the coals, everything around him blurred except for chants as he knew hearing the sizzling blood; he was free.