Breakfast

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It's the morning of my Choosing Day.

A tense atmosphere fills the house, even though our father is absent. The sun gleams through my window, casting a ray of light onto my grey sheets.

I hear my brother start to prepare breakfast, like he does every morning.

Slowly, I slip out of bed and grab my grey bathrobe and grey towel.

The shower is short and the water is cool, as it would be selfish to have a long, hot shower.

The clothing on my bed is Abnegation grey. Like everything here. Our house, my clothes, my brothers clothes, our neighbours house. The list is endless. The only good thing about the dress is that it covers the bruises and scars on my body.

By the time I get downstairs, my brother is already waiting for me. I silently take the seat next to him and bite into my toast. As always, toast. Plain buttered toast.

"No matter what we choose today, whatever happens," my brother says quietly, "Remember that I still love you, Catarina."

"I love you to Tobias" I reply.

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