Break Down the Walls (Divergent Story)

Chapter 2

Okay, so you guys wanted more! So here's more! I have like over seventy pages written already so i'm planning on updating this every tuesdays and fridays. Hope you enjoy!

CHAPTER 2

THREE YEARS LATER

Today is my choosing ceremony. Yesterday was aptitude tests, and my test administrator told me something: that I was Divergent. My results were inconclusive. It doesn’t make sense. I got four factions somehow: Erudite, Amity, Dauntless, and of course, Abnegation.

Today, I choose which one I want to live in. I already promised Bass I would pick Dauntless. He chose Dauntless. Now it’s my turn.

After three years, three years of being blamed that he left, being beaten until blood was everywhere over the floor, I got used to pain. I will be able to handle everything that the Dauntless throw at me.

I’ve grown a foot, my legs even longer then they were before. My facial features have expanded, my nose long and thin, my eyes a deep hazel, my cheeks thin from malnourishment, and my hair now sways smoothly over my hips when I walk. This morning is the last morning I will ever get to cut it in this house, the last morning I will be able to walk these halls that my mother walked. This is it. There is no going back after this.

I trim only the ends of my hair, letting it fall in a circle around my feet, a halo of brown hair. It is not pale brown, like the sand, but more like the color of black, dark, wet earth. I got it from my mother, and even Tobias wears the color.

Tobias. I will get to see him today. For the first time in three years. This is it.

I am just making breakfast when Marcus comes up to me from behind.

“Catherine, what were your aptitude test results?” he asks me, his tone curious. I turn around from the pan that his heating up so I can cook our scrambled eggs. I am greeted by his stern eyes looking into mine.

“My result was Abnegation, father.” I say in the most polite tone I can muster. Politeness is hard to deliver these days when it comes to handling Marcus. I’ve snapped a lot at him during the past years, my tolerance and patience run short for him. I fought back once or twice and surprised him a few times. I’ve surprised myself too.

“Are you lying to me?” he asks, the distance between us slowly disappearing.

“No,” I stammer, raising my voice. He hates it when I lie. I love it when I piss him off.

“Are you sure about that, Catherine? You know about my tolerance for lying,” he warns.

“Fine, Marcus. I am lying to you. I’m not aloud to tell you my results.” I answer, my eyes narrowing, my words becoming venomous.

“I did not raise a liar, Catherine,” he states as calmly as if he were telling me about the weather, yet his eyes, flaming, beg to differ. He takes my bare arm and presses it to the heated metal pan.

I cry out in pain, the burning causing tears to spring into my eyes. It makes my skin bleed and go red at the edges.

“Get off of me!” I yell, pushing him away, unable to take the pain anymore. I take my free fist and punch his face, sending him away from me. I peel my hand off the pan and set it back on the stove. I curse under my breath, and Marcus comes back to punch my jaw. I stumble a few feet to the left, causing my head to spin a little. I stand up straight, across from him, where he stands rigid. Enraged.

“I won’t feel sorry for you when I leave,” I spit. “I’m going to rat you out to the Abnegation, to the Erudite, to everyone.” I step closer, cradling my flaming arm.

“In fact, I’m going to transfer to Candor. You know what the last stage to initiation is over there? Huh?” I don’t let him answer. “It’s truth serum. I’m going to tell them everything. And you’re going to get arrested, like you deserve.”

I turn around to go tend to my arm upstairs. I turn the cool water on, letting it flow all over my forearm. I sigh in relief, the coolness washing over the blood and erasing the pain.

I grab the wrap that I have used multiple times before and bandage the wound so it won’t rub against the wool of my jacket. I can’t wait to see his face when I choose Dauntless. I can’t wait to forget his face when I leave.

PAGE BREAK

I take my seat amongst the other sixteen year-olds, scanning the crowd for my brother. He might have shown up to see me transfer; he might just want to make sure I’m alive like I promised him. My palms begin to get sweaty. He isn’t here. It’s the Amity’s turn to host this year, which means their leader, Johanna Reyes, must give the faction speech, which explains why we are here today, who believes in what and such. It’s the same speech every year. I heard it at Bass’s ceremony, and now listen to it at mine. We keep getting closer and closer to when we have to choose, and instead of getting nervous, I’m getting giddy and excited. I’m going to see Bass. I’m going to leave Marcus. I’m going to lead a happy life. I can feel it coming from my bones, a slow rumble through my body. I hear the train horn in the distance, I hear it or I imagine it, and I know that it is the Dauntless calling me. They’re calling to me.

The names are called from reverse-alphabetical order, so it will begin with ‘Z’ and end with ‘A’. That means I will be one of the last ones. I don’t think I can wait this long.

“Joshua Yuzik,” Johanna announces. A boy dresses in gray clothes goes up. He slices his palm with the knife and holds his hand over the stones. Typical. All Abnegation usually stay in Abnegation. Except for me. And Beatrice, and Caleb, who chose Dauntless and Erudite last year. Everyone said it was probably because Andrew and Natalie abused them, like Marcus, but I didn’t believe it. I knew that Beatrice didn’t belong here. She belonged in Dauntless. Maybe she met my brother.

“Amanda Nardoni,” Johanna calls. The young girl in Erudite blue takes careful steps toward the choosing bowls. Her hands shake as the knife penetrates her sweaty palm. She debates where to drop the blood, then raises her bleeding hand over the glass. A mother cries out.

Parents habitually get emotional when their kids transfer. I know I don’t belong in the Candor. My aptitude test ruled it out (and I got an aptitude for every other faction) and I rule it out. I don’t tell the truth. I lie at all costs.

The names dwell on and on. Why can’t this be a private event? Why can’t we just do it electronically or something? Then just leave when it comes the time? Why haven’t the Erudite thought of that? It would save so much time and nervousness. It would shorten my anticipation and my giddiness.

“Catherine Eaton.”

My breathing stops. My heart stops.

I feel numb when I walk up. Wait, when was I holding a knife? My body is responding without me telling it to do anything. It knows, it knows that I need to go to Dauntless. This is the gateway to my brother. This is the gateway to a safe haven. This is where I will be free. I slice my hand. I walk up to the glass, just to tease my father. Just as the blood is going to drop into the glass, I shift my hand to the coals.

The blood sizzles.

People gasp.

I smile.

I was a trapped bird, flapping over and over against my cage. Now, I am finally set free.

Okay! So i'm probably going to just post the third chapter than wait until tuesday to update again. thank you for reading and spread the word!

DFTBA,

-Kathleen