Talk About It

I Become a Counsellor

I didn't really know how to start, so I went completely with my gut. "Christina, this is probably going to be really weird for you, but we do stuff like this all the time in our world. We call it counselling. I haven't done it, like, as a job or professionally before, but I don't think I'm too bad at it," I explained. I felt nervous - someone's getting better was hanging on by a thread, and I was the one who had to sew it properly back together. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to do it, but it had to be me - clearly, Christina was sent here for a purpose. This must have been it.

"Okay. What do I have to do?" she asked. I loved and hated how she looked at me: scared but hopeful, like a child before tragedy strikes.

"Well, you sort of just have to talk. To me. About stuff," I said. She looked at me again, and I swear I could literally read her mind: and how exactly will that help? I bit my lip and tried to articulate my thoughts. The best I could do was, "It's a big step, I know, just to open up, but that's a step in the right direction. It will help a lot, trust me." Christina seemed satisified with that, so I settled into my seat and thought about what to ask first. "Christina, what was the biggest decision you ever made?"

"Choosing Dauntless, of course," she said, as if she was reciting answers out of a book. Then she asked, "Wait, you do know about me, right? You read a book or something?"

I nodded. "Yup - The Divergent Series."

"Oh. Good."

"So, why do you think that was your biggest decision?"

"I guess it actually did change my life. Everyone always made a big deal out of the Choosing Ceremony, so I've always known it was a big decision."

"Why did you choose Dauntless?"

"I hated Candor. Well, that's not completely true. I believe in honesty and I love talking, I just hated how extreme they made it. There's a difference between telling the truth and having no filter. Sometimes the truth changes, and you don't need to say every single thing you think or hear or do."

"What you do?"

"Definitely not what you do." I laughed, and she laughed a bit, too. I could feel something good happening - I thought she was getting better already. She'd found her laugh.