Yay!!! Chapter 11!!!!!! Let me know how you like it! i need suggestions!!! Love you guys, thank you for reading -Emberlyn07
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Im sitting in a chair. In the line of 16 year olds waiting to decide the rest of their life. Today I am choosing where I belong. My home. My faction. But where do I go?
The question swirls in my head as, Marcus, our faction leader gives a speech. The ceremony goes by in a blur. I have to get out. The Chant the thought in my head, while I quietly sit and listen to Marcus call the names of the 16 year olds.
Andrew was in a bad mood last night. I feel the ghost of the belt on my back. The sting and feeling of blood trickling down my back. I shake my head to get the memory out of my head and focus on the ceremony.
" Ann Kalamalka" An amity girl a few chairs down stands up and walks to the center of the room. She picks up the knife and cuts her palm. Holds out her hand and lets the blood drop into the candor bowl. She's the first transfer of the ceremony. Gasps and murmurs go around the room and the candor clap. Amity and Candor are enemy fractions. The candor hate Amity because they see Politeness as deception in pretty packaging.
I know that I could never be candor, I never liked them and I lie too easily. My sister and I always said that we would never choose Erudite. They are snobs and think there better than everyone. I am too damaged for Amity, All the pain and insults and bad memories make it impossible to be happy, kind and friendly to everyone all the time. I am not good enough for abnegation, 16 years of trying to be selfless and put others before me, and I still think of myself before others.
Three more people go up and choose. Amity choose Amity. My head snaps up when a Candor chooses Erudite. Then a Dauntless choose Dauntless.
Dauntless.
" Beatrice Prior" Marcus Calls my name. I slowly make my way to the center of the room. I look at the bowls and see that Dauntless erudite and Abnegation are on my Left. Marcus hands me a knife and I cut my palm. Its stings but It barely bothers me. I have had a lot of practice with pain. I think bitterly. Where do I belong? Not Candor. Not Amity. Not Erudite, Even though i have the Aptitude. I look back at my father and he nods. I feel the ghost of the belt. I hear My screams of pain. I Smell my blood rolling down my back onto the floor. I Have to get out.
I Turn back to the bowls and look at the Dauntless lit coals. My blood sizzes on them, and i hear screaming and cheers from my chosen faction.
I am free. I am dauntless.
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Unwelcome: Divergent
ActionHey guys, This is a Divergent Fanfiction! Its takes place when Tris is 16 a few weeks before the choosing ceremony! Andrew ( Tris's father) is abusive and killed her mother natalie when long ago his abuse finally got out of control. Now Andrew abuse...
