[ D I V E R G E N T S T O R Y ]
The plot is from Divergent, but with MY OWN original character, Lily.
MY STORY DOES NOT HAVE BEATRICE/TRIS PRIOR.
I REPEAT, MY STORY DOES NOT HAVE TRIS PRIOR.
MEANING: NOTHING THAT HAPPENED THEN IS HAPPENING NO...
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LILIAN. Eventually, after trying for an hour, my parents and older sister stop trying to get into my door to see what's wrong. It's not that I'm ashamed to have resulted in getting Dauntless, it's just what my parent's reactions will be. Especially my father.
He and I never had the best relationship, snide remarks back and forth and no 'I love you's to each other. I can't remember the last time I said that.
Somehow, my little six year old sister manages to escape the prying arms of my mum, and she knocks on my door. I can tell it's her from where the knock is coming and the footsteps I had heard before she hit the space near the knob. Even though I often don't show it, I care for her quite much. She's the only little child I like, honestly.
When I unlock the door, her black curls (taking after my father) are disheveled and I can tell she's been crying. I scoop her frail frame up into my arms and I close the birch door with my foot.
"What's wrong, Ali?" I ask, using the nickname only I call her. The poor kid sniffles and is close to crying again.
"Y-you w-w-were crying," she blubbers, stuttering with her words as she tries not to tear up. "a-nd I di-didn't kno-know why... that m-made me s-sad."
My heart melts for her words as I set her on my bed, becoming eye to eye with her. "Ali.... the reason why I was so sad.. was-.. because I-"
Her tiny finger shushes me, effectively silencing and surprising me. "Was it t-the test thing?" she questions, all-too-knowingly. I sigh. This child will be the death of me. "Y-yes," my eyes fill as I speak. "I di-didn't get A-mity...." Now it's my turn to try to stop from sobbing, my hand going over my mouth as I feel like I'm going to throw up from the situation in general. "I g-got Dauntless!" I cry out, burying my head in my pillow.
I am not brave, or kind, or honest, or selfless, or smart. I am nothing.
"That's okay. It's up to you what you pick and if they don't like it, so-so," Alanna's high pitched baby voice is loud and clear, smart and no-longer stuttering. Here I am, a supposed person to be Dauntless, crying while a six year old is comforting me.
___
As we ride the elevator on the way to the Choosing Ceremony, I adjust my yellow cardigan that settles over my grey button-up shirt. I thank the gods that we give out food and eat healthy, for I would look odd in this setup if my stomach didn't curve in. Under my red skirt are black leggings that make me feel pretty wearing them.
My hair is braided into a tight bun and for once I'm proud that my hair is longer than most girls', including Helen. She's wearing a completely different outfit than me and if we didn't have the same hair colour, we wouldn't look like sisters, even as we sit together in the Amity section.
