Fractured | Tobias Eaton ✓

01 | We'll Be Okay

Being factionless is made to sound like hell to those "lucky" enough to have been born into one. I often laugh at the thought of something cringing at the mere thought of living as we do. As though there's nothing but poverty and dirt to our names. I suppose that's their fault too, we Fractured lacking the bare necessities.

Even though sometimes I wonder what it's like to be in a faction, my family always reminds me why I'd hate it in the end.

My family of those who couldn't choose, those who failed their initiations, and those who were disgraced from the fragile factions we Fractured work to uphold. I've been confronted with the realization that I'm at the bottom of the food chain purely because I am factionless.

In my opinion, there should be a faction for people like us. For the people who can't choose just one faction because in their minds, being one thing for the rest of their lives is the real hell on Earth. It doesn't make any sense to me how someone can grow up learning to be one thing, to do one thing, for the rest of their lives realistically. (even though some change factions later)

Unlike them, I don't have a choice because of who -- what my parents are. For the rest of my life, I'm supposed to live in the outskirts of the city, a place riddled with horrible living conditions and barely clean tap water. And the only help I will be given is the "selfless" charity from Abnegation.

Even if the Fractured seem weak, the unofficial name of the factionless alone, suggests that we aren't capable. That without a faction, we are but broken shells of the people we could have been if we'd followed the rules. Despite that, the hardships we endure every single day have made us as a whole as tough as nails.

I know no faction and never will, my loyalty is not bound by my personality; it's bound by my blood and my bonds I've made with others... or at least, I thought it was.

—

After the Candor woman leaves, my family leaves me to think. Or, more accurately, my mother forces everyone to leave me alone for the remainder of the evening. I don't thank her, but I'm glad she did that. Tamino looked at me with what I would say was betrayal... probably because I didn't outright refuse the offer.

How could I? I won't lie, it's an amazing offer. The money is what interests me the most. Maybe if I say I did it for the money, then Tammi won't hate me for leaving? "No," I shake my head, "I can't let someone else's reaction be why I make the decision..." Still, the thought of hurting Tammi makes me even more unsure.

My hands are fidgeting, I can't help it. It's always helped me calm down when stressed out, moving my hands. I push back my cuticles, rub my fingertips together, cradle each hand with the other... but nothing helps ease my anxieties about the offer.

Now that I've been given the chance to... do something with myself instead of being pitied by the Abnegation for the rest of my life... I don't know how to think.

Every day for the past fifteen and a half years, I've been lowering my expectations; I never let myself hope for anything because I knew (and still know now) that I'd only end up disappointed again.

Another sigh leaves my lips as I fall backward to lay on my bed. My legs hang awkwardly off the side of it as I stare up at the ceiling. The attic feels strange without Ada making noise to fill the void of being alone so often... and yet, I'm still glad to be alone right now. I bet that if Tammi was up here, I'd be crying into his shoulder.

My twin, my brother, my best friend. I'd have to leave him behind, David and Ada too... my aunts, my parents... I can't imagine us without me even if it sounds selfish to think that.

The weathered posters nailed into the roof are yellow and ripped all over, but they cover up the wood behind them. I can hardly see what the posters used to say because of the roof leaking, but I remember what some of them say.