Post by Snowyrunner on Mar 27, 2018 2:46:06 GMT -5
Snowy's note: I had the urge to write and so I decided to explore this. It begins at the Choosing Ceremony, where Tris will begin her life differently. I wrote what first came out, without any plans. It is a slow beginning but hopefully it is still interesting.
I hold the knife in my hands. The decision I make now - my choice - will define me.
Will I be brave?
Will I be selfless?
...Isn't it the same thing?
I watch the glint of the knife's metal as I turn it, trembling, to my palm. I take one last look at my brother before it is done - and hear the faintest plop onto the rocks.
It could have been the sizzling of coals.
There are mixed voices among the crowd of Abnegation: lingering fury of the betrayal of one of their own, as well as the soft relief that another remained. But it sounds jumbled, confused, like they're not sure what exactly to feel now.
All I know is that I am numb.
My hands shake, sweaty, and I wipe them on my gray slacks, turning toward my parents, and the motion feels like wading in water.
I can feel Caleb's gaze burning into the back of my head; I do not meet it.
The walk home is quiet, too quiet, and I can feel the thought buzzing like a fly that what I've just chosen for the rest of my life might have been wrong. But maybe not.
I had watched my own brother abandon his family. The choice was easy; I couldn't have done the same. Could I...? Was selflessness the reason why I stayed?
I shake my head to clear it; before I have realized it, we're home. I have been too dazed, too trapped within my own thoughts to notice, too focused on myself.
Selfish.
How could I have thought that one act would make me who I want to be? How can I expect to be anything short of factionless?
The only Abnegation-born initiate to fail initiation. It will be me, I know it.
My father opens the door for Mom and I, while we dip our heads thankfully. I almost forget to. 16 years of practice, and I almost forget.
My Dad makes dinner tonight, because Caleb is not home. I sit on one of the little gray wooden chairs in the small living room, and my mother is beside me, and I only talk when I am prompted. I am not prompted much. The house is filled with a thick silence, one that weighs down on me and makes my throat tight.
We all sit at the dinner table once the food is ready. I look from my mom to my dad and wait for something to be said. Finally Dad speaks first, and looks at me with an expression deep with some emotion, one I have never seen and one I hope never to see again.
"Thank you," he says, and I find myself wrenching my gaze away. That should not have been his first words.
"Get a good rest," Mom says suddenly, and when I look at her I find something I was not expecting: a small smile that is almost forced, and the faintest hint of concern in her eyes.
Of disappointment.
I press my mouth into a line, trying not to frown, as she finishes her statement.
"You have a long day tomorrow."
I hold the knife in my hands. The decision I make now - my choice - will define me.
Will I be brave?
Will I be selfless?
...Isn't it the same thing?
I watch the glint of the knife's metal as I turn it, trembling, to my palm. I take one last look at my brother before it is done - and hear the faintest plop onto the rocks.
It could have been the sizzling of coals.
There are mixed voices among the crowd of Abnegation: lingering fury of the betrayal of one of their own, as well as the soft relief that another remained. But it sounds jumbled, confused, like they're not sure what exactly to feel now.
All I know is that I am numb.
My hands shake, sweaty, and I wipe them on my gray slacks, turning toward my parents, and the motion feels like wading in water.
I can feel Caleb's gaze burning into the back of my head; I do not meet it.
The walk home is quiet, too quiet, and I can feel the thought buzzing like a fly that what I've just chosen for the rest of my life might have been wrong. But maybe not.
I had watched my own brother abandon his family. The choice was easy; I couldn't have done the same. Could I...? Was selflessness the reason why I stayed?
I shake my head to clear it; before I have realized it, we're home. I have been too dazed, too trapped within my own thoughts to notice, too focused on myself.
Selfish.
How could I have thought that one act would make me who I want to be? How can I expect to be anything short of factionless?
The only Abnegation-born initiate to fail initiation. It will be me, I know it.
My father opens the door for Mom and I, while we dip our heads thankfully. I almost forget to. 16 years of practice, and I almost forget.
My Dad makes dinner tonight, because Caleb is not home. I sit on one of the little gray wooden chairs in the small living room, and my mother is beside me, and I only talk when I am prompted. I am not prompted much. The house is filled with a thick silence, one that weighs down on me and makes my throat tight.
We all sit at the dinner table once the food is ready. I look from my mom to my dad and wait for something to be said. Finally Dad speaks first, and looks at me with an expression deep with some emotion, one I have never seen and one I hope never to see again.
"Thank you," he says, and I find myself wrenching my gaze away. That should not have been his first words.
"Get a good rest," Mom says suddenly, and when I look at her I find something I was not expecting: a small smile that is almost forced, and the faintest hint of concern in her eyes.
Of disappointment.
I press my mouth into a line, trying not to frown, as she finishes her statement.
"You have a long day tomorrow."
