The day of the aptitude test finally arrives, and my veins tickle with anticipation. The Abnegation sit in our grey robes, watching the rest of the school walk by, watch us waiting to face our future. The day has gone painfully slow, the first half being classes that no one paid attention in. The Abnegation were battered again today in the corridor - one girl in particular, long, blonde hair, was pushed to the ground so roughly I thought she would burst into tears. But instead, she stood up, a determined expression clouding her face, and walked on. I admired her bravery - maybe she was Dauntless. Maybe she had no fear, because one day, she would take an apititude test and be told where she belongs. Unlike me. Because I know today I will take this test, and unlike the girl, I won't know where I belong.
All I know it that I belong far, far away. Away from Marcus.
I am called out in a group to undergo the test. Dad had told me what will happen, though no one should know. I refuse to smile, even secretly, as my fellow Abnegation discuss what they will think the test will consist of. They talk in hushed whispers, afraid to be caught, but curiosity gets the better of some of them. Some want the truth - they will be Candor - and some refuse to feel fear over the upcoming test - they will be Dauntless. It's easy now for me to distinguish possible factions in people. Dad has educated me in ways he shouldn't have about this test. I know too much. I won't be Erudite; I dislike knowledge.
It is my turn to be tested. A woman painted with tattoos hardly speaks to me - does she recognise me as my father's son? But she couldn't possibly recognise me. I sit in the chair and she injects me, and the test begins. It is exactly as my father said it would be - a dog, a choice, a bus. But I do not do what he tells me to do. I do not pick the gun, I do not pick the cheese. I see no reason to. I try to stop the girl. I lie on the bus, despite the man's pleas. His anguish makes my jaw set with determination; Dad said I should tell him the truth, but I don't. I do what I would do naturally. I do what I would do if I was Divergent. Which, I am.
"You cannot tell anyone," the woman says. "Being Divergent is... very, very dangerous." She looks bothered by the fact she must tell me this, like I am a burden, or someone who is re-opening closed wounds. She leans forward, her expression suddenly earnest. "It is up to you to Choose were you belong at the Ceremony, but I will give you some advice: no matter where you choose, make sure it is somewhere that will make you happy."
I leave with a nod, knowing, in my heart, that I will never be able to be Abnegation. I cannot be happy here.
At the Choosing Ceremony, we stand according to our current factions. I am enveloped in a sea of grey robes that part for my father who leads the way. He is proud I am his son, for today, in his mind, I will be picking the best faction of them all, Abnegation, and continuing his work in goverment. I lied to him - I lied about the aptitude test, though I was almost certain he would have checked. But he couldn't - not without sparking suspicion in the testers. So he takes my word for it. I am completely selfless.
My name is called and I stand forward to the bowls: soil, coals, stones, glass, water. Marcus has given his speech, told us of the important of Faction Before Blood. As I except the knife from him, an ironic smile crosses my face. I am hurting myself, for him. Or so he thinks. He stands proudly, the entire community watching: the black and whiteness of the Candor, the red and yellowness of the Amnity, the ebony of the Dauntles, the grey of the Abnegation, the blue of the Erudite. They know I am Marcus's son, they know I must be the most selfless person here in this very room. But I am not. I am escaping for myself, to save myself, to prevent myself from being hurt anymore. I am completely selfish - and a little dramatic. I cut my hand, holding it over the stones of Abnegation for a moment. Then, with flourish, I lift my hand to hover over the coals.
My blood sizzles and crackles, dousing the dreams of my father. His face whitens and audible gasps echo through the room. I am escaping, not because I am fearless, like my new faction, Dauntless, but because I am selfish.
I walk to my new faction, smiling maliciously as my father tries to compose himself. He does, because a selfless person does not bring personal matters into the face of others. But I just have. And now there is no way he will regain what he had. Because now he has no son. And therefore, no power.
The Dauntless clap my back, and others join us throughout the ceremony. I have researched the Dauntless initiation phase, and I know these are my competition. But now, amidst all these people, I have to prove I am not Stiff, I am not Marcus Eaton's battered son. I have to prove I am fearless. I am Dauntless.
On the way out of the building as the ceremony ends, I catch many Abengation's eyes, including Marcus's. My ex-faction show no remorse for me. What I did was selfish to them, showing up my father like that. As they stride past, I catch a glimpse of blond hair. Maybe it is not her, but it reminds me of the girl in the corridor. I did not see her at the apititude test. Maybe she's younger than me. I find myself wondering what faction she will pick, eventually, and if I am right. Is she Dauntless? Will we meet again someday? Will I remember her? I thank this stranger, silently in my head, for helping me make my choice.
We run to the train, and my life begins again.
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Divergent: Before We Chose
Fanfiction"I realize that if we had both chosen differently, we might have ended up doing the same thing, in a safer place, in gray clothes instead of black ones." What if Tobias and Tris hadn't met each other in Dauntless? What if fate won over chance, and t...
