Chapter 3

I WAKE TO sweaty palms and a pang of guilt in my chest. I am

lying in the mirrored room. When I tilt my head back, see Tori behind me. She

pinches her lips together and removes electrodes from our heads. I wait for her

to say something about the test—that it’s over, or that I did well, although how

Could I do poorly on a test like this? --but she says

nothing, just pulls the wires from my forehead. I sit forward and wipe my palm

off on my slacks. I had to have done something wrong, even if it only happened in

my mind. Is that strange look on Tori’s face because she doesn’t know how to

tell me what a terrible person I am? I wish she would just come out with it. ``

That,’’ she, ``was perplexing. Excuse me, I’II be right back.’’ Perplexing? I

bright my knees to my chest and burry my face in them. I wish I felt like

crying, because the tears might bring me a sense of release, but I don’t. How

can you fail a test you aren’t allowed to prepare for? As the moments pass, I

get more nervous. I must wipe off my hands every few seconds as the sweet

collects—or maybe I just do it because it helps me feel calmer. What if they

tell me that I’m not cut out for any faction? I would have to be homeless, with

the factionless. I can’t do that. To live factionless is not just to live in

poverty and discomfort; it is to live divorced from society, separated from the

most important thing in life: community. My mother told me once that we can’t

survive alone, but even if we could, we wouldn’t want to. Without a faction, we

have no purpose and no reason to live. I shake my head. I can’t think like

this. I have to stay calm. Finally, the door opens, and Tori walks back in. I grip

the arms of the chair.  `` Sorry to worry you\,’’ Tori says. She stands by my pale. `` Beatrice\, your results were

inconclusive,’’

she says. `` Typically, each stage of the simulation eliminates one or more of

the factions, but in your case, only two have been ruled out.’’ `` If you had

shown an automatic distaste for the knife and selected the cheese, the

simulation would have led you to a different scenario that confirmed your

aptitude for Amity. That didn’t happen, which is why Amity is out.’’ Tori

scratches the back of her neck. `` Normally, the simulation progresses in a

linear fashion, isolating one faction by ruling out the rest. The choices you

made didn’t even allow Candor, the next possibility, to be ruled out, so I had

to alter the simulation to put you on the bus. And there your insistence upon

dishonesty ruled out Candor.’’ She half smiles. ``Don’t worry about that. Only

the Candor. ’tell the truth in that one.’’ One of the knots in my chest loosens.

Maybe I’m not an awful person. `` I suppose that’s not entirely who true.

People who tell the truth are the Candor …and   yourself

on the dog rather than let it attack the little girl, which is an

Abnegation-oriented response… but on the other, when the man old you that the

truth would save him, you still refused to tell it. Not an Abnegation—oriented response.’’

She sighs. `` Not running from the dog suggests Dauntless, but so does taking

the knife, which you didn’t do.’’ She clears her throat and continues. `` Your

intelligent response to the dog indicates strong alignment with the Erudite. I

have no idea what to make of your indecision in stage one, but—‘’ `` Wait,’’ I

interrupt her.`` So you have no idea what my aptitude is?’’ `` Yes and no. My conclusion\,

’she explains.`` Dauntless, She looks over her shoulder like she expects

someone to appear behind her.``… are called… Divergent.`` She says the last

word so quietly that I almost don’t hear it, and her tense, worried looks

return. She walks around the side of the chair and leans in close to me. `` Beatrice.’’

She says, `` under no circumstances should you share that information with

anyone. This is very important.’’ `` We aren’t supposed to share our result.’’

I nod. `` I know that.’’ `` No.’’ Tori kneels next to the chair now and places

her arms on the armrest. Our faces are inches apart. `` This is different. I

don’t mean you shouldn’t share them now; I mean you should never share them with

anyone, ever, no matter what happens. Divergence is extremely dangerous. You

understand?’’ I don’t understand—how could inconclusively test results be dangerous?

—but I still nod. I don’t want to share my test result with anyone anyway. ``

Okay.’’ I peel my hands from the arms of the chair and stand. I feel unsteady.

`` I suggest\,’’ Tori says\, `` that you go home. You have a lot of thinking to do

and waiting with the others may not benefit you.’’ `` I have to tell my brother

where I’m going.’’ `` I’II let him know.’’ I touch my forehead stare at the

floor as I walk out of the room. I can’t bear to look her in the eye. I can’t

bear to think about the Choosing Ceremony tomorrow. It’s choice now, no matter

what the test says. Abnegation. Dauntless. Erudite. Divergent. I decide not to

take the bus. If I get home early, my father will notice when he checks the

house log at the end of the day, and I’II have explain what happened.

The buses tend to hug the curb, so it’s safer here. Sometimes, on the

street near my house, I can see places where the yellow lines used to be. We

have no use for them now that there are so few cars. We don’t need stoplight,

either, but in some places, they dangle precariously over the road like this might

crash down any minute. Renovation moves slowly through the city, which is a patchwork

of new, clean building and old, crumbling ones. Most of the new buildings are

next to the marsh, which used to be a lake a long time ago. The Abnegation volunteer’s

agency my mother works for is responsible for most of those renovations. When I

look at the Abnegation lifestyle as outside, I think it’s beautiful. When I watch

my family move in harmony; when we go to dinner parties and everyone cleans

together afterward without having to be asked; when I see Caleb help stranger

carry their groceries, I fall in love with this life all over again . It never

feels genuine. But choosing a different faction means I forsake my family. Permanently.

a Just past the Abnegation sector of the city is the stretch of building

skeletons broken sidewalk that I now walk through. There are places where the

road has complexly collapsed, revealing sewer and empty subways that I have to

be careful to avoid, and places that stink so powerfully of sewage and trash

that I l have to plug my nose. This is where the factionless live. Because they

failed to complete initiation into whatever faction they chose, they live in

poverty, doing the work no one else wants to do. They are janitors and construction

workers and garbage collection; they make fabric and operate trains and drive

buses. In return for their work they food and clothing, but, as my mother says,

not enough of either. I see a factionless man standing on the corner up a head.

He wears ragged brown clothing and skin sags from his jaw. He stares at me, and

I stare back at him, unable to look away.

“Excuse me,” he says. His voice is raspy. “Do you have

something I can eat?”

I feel lump in my throat. A stern voice in my head says, duck

your head and keep walking.

No I shake my head. I should not be afraid of this man. He needs

help and I am supposed to help him.

“Um …yes,” I say. I reach into my bag. My father always

tells me to keep food in my bag for exactly this reason. I offer the man a

small bag of dried apples slices. He reaches for them, but instead of taking

the bag, his hand closes around my wrist. He smiles at me. He has a gap between

his front teeth. “My, don’t you have a pretty eye,” he says. “it’s a shame the

rest of you is so plain.”

My heart pounds. I turn my hand back, but his grip tightens.

I smell acrid and unpleasant on his breath.

“You look a little young to be walking around yourself dear,”

he says.

I stop tugging and stand up straighter. I know I look young;

I don’t need to be reminded. “I’m older than I look,” I retort. “I’m sixteen.”

His lips spread wide, revealing a gray molar with a dark pit

in his side. I can’t tell if he’s smiling or grimacing. “then isn’t today a special

day for you? The day before you choose?”

“ let go of me,” I say. I hear ringing in my ears. My voice

sounds clear and stern not what I expected to hear. I feel like it doesn’t belong

to me.

L

I am ready. I know what to do. I picture myself bringing my

elbow back and hitting him. I see the bag of apples flying away from me. I hear

my running footsteps. I am prepared to act. But then he release my wrist, takes

the apples, and says, “choose wisely, little girl.” 

PLEASE SUPPORT ME GUYS IT WILL REALLY MEAN A LOT TO ME.

AND I WILL UPDATE EVERY DAY( ahhh that will be soo stress full😨😨)

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