The Unlucky Ones

[2] - Static

[Tobias]

HIS VOICE HAUNTS ME. It's like a Static ringing in my ears.

This is for your own Good, Tobias.

I want to leave. I want to break away from him. I want his hands to leave my skin unbroken. I don't want these scars. But yet, these scars define me. The show who I am. I sit up, gasping for air. My skin is clammy with sweat and my bottom lip stings. The woman, Tori, hums in astonishment, not bothering to look at me.

" When you were in your simulation, " She looks over to me. " Did you know it was a simulation? Or were you too busy with that... Challenge to think about where you were? " She asks.

I know what she's asking. I know why she's asking. Divergence has always been a problem within our faction system. And, yet, we had never been warned about this problem before now.

" No. I didn't know it was a simulation. It felt real. If I had known it was a simulation, would I have chewed through my lip? " I lie, using my ability of manipulation to get past her.

Just like I do at home. Believable and straight to the point. Just how I intend it to be. She nods, humming again.

" Congratulations. Textbook Abnegation. " She says.

I look down at my hands.

" Are you displeased with your results? " She asks.

I look up, realizing now that I let myself break from my character. I shake my head.

" No. My mentors will be pleased. " I say.

She sighs, placing a hand on her hip.

" I didn't ask about them. I asked about you. " She says.

I shake my head.

" No. I'm happy with them. " I say.

She nods, biting down on her pierced lip.

" Okay. You can leave now. Do not talk to anyone about your results. They are confidential. " She says.

I nod.

" Oh, and Tobias? " She asks.

I turn around, looking at her. I expect her to say something about my test.

" Be to the Erudite Center by 10:00 tomorrow. " She says.

But, I guess I was wrong to assume that.

* * * * *

When I return home to the small gray box we Abnegation members call home, I sit on the front step and take in deep breaths of the cool mid-afternoon spring air. I will do this for a few minutes before I enter the house. It's my one chance to steal a moment. My mother is the one who taught me to steal moments like these. Moments of freedom. Although she didn't know what that was.

I used to watch her take these moments. Like how some evenings, she would slip out the door, after Marcus had gone to bed. And that moment would extend for a full night. And it wouldn't end until she stepped her foot back inside this house early in the morning when the orange and yellow streaked sky was just being painted. She even took her little moments when she was with us. Like when she would wash the dishes.

She'd stop momentarily, closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath before continuing her task. She was always so distant from us in those moments. So distant that she couldn't hear me when I spoke to her. That was her slice of freedom. I learned another thing from her too.

I learned that every good thing, whether it's a good dream, or a decent meal, or a slice of freedom, all must come to an end. I stand, brushing flecks of cement from my gray slacks, pushing the door open with a momentary sigh.