Daunted

Today feels like it could easily be just another average morning, if I didn't know any better. I sit in the early sunlight on my best friend’s porch while she braids my hair for me, decorating the strands with buttercups picked from the meadow down the road. The breeze carries with it the smell of Amity – warm sunshine, rich earth, and sweet apples – and the air is filled with the sound of happy chatter as people skip down the dirt road, most of them headed to work at the gardens.

And yet, just as I’m about to forget about the day’s events, something triggers the memory in my mind. Today is the day of the Choosing Ceremony.

“There, all done,” Hannah says as she finishes my hair. She hops off her stool and comes to sit next to me on her steps, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “Still nervous?”

I nod. “I’m jealous of you. I wish I could be so calm.”

Hannah shrugs easily, looking up at the sky as a few birds fly overhead. “It’s not a big deal. It’s not like anything will change, right?”

I don’t answer her. Today she will go on the stage at the Hub and choose Amity. Tonight she will return home to see her parents and sleep in her own familiar bed. She’s not nervous because she has nothing to fear. I wish I could be so sure of myself, like Hannah.

She gives me a strange look out of the corner of her eye when she realizes I haven’t said anything, but she doesn’t bring it up, if for no other reason than that she knows we’re not supposed to talk about it.

“Valerie, Hannah, come on! Time to go,” calls Hannah’s mother. My parents, who were inside having breakfast with her family, come out with them.

“That braid looks lovely. You did a wonderful job, Hannah,” my mother says, hugging her.

I take my mother’s hand in mine and my father’s in the other, and together we walk to the busses that will take us through the fence and to the Hub. I try not to think about the choice I’ll have to make, because if I do, I’ll have to accept that this might just be the last time I make this trip with my parents.

The other families on the bus chatter away happily, but it’s easy to tell with just one glance which dependents are contemplating a transfer. Their smiles seem painful, heavy, like it drains them just to hold it in place. I wonder if I look like them.

“What do you think the Candor are like before the Choosing Ceremony?” I ask Hannah, who sits in the seat in front of me.

She cranes her neck around to look at me. “What do you mean?”

“Well, they value total honesty and transparency, but they aren’t allowed to tell each other their aptitude test results or which faction they’ll pick. That must be difficult for them.”

My mother frowns at me. “What Candor does is important to no one but themselves,” she says, and though her tone is even, there’s a scolding edge to it.

I bite my lip and look down, my cheeks flushing red. “Sorry,” I murmur.

My mother takes my hand in hers and gives it a little squeeze, letting me know I’m forgiven. I give her a smile, but I don’t say anything for the rest of the bus ride.

The Hub is already packed when we arrive. Some members of Abnegation hold open the doors for everyone, while the others all gather in an orderly line and file up the stairs. I have always wondered how the Abnegation can be so selfless. In Amity, we are taught that you cannot truly love and respect others if you don’t first love and respect yourself, and that you should always show yourself kindness. I know better than to talk to anyone about this, though; if my mother didn’t like me asking questions about Candor, surely she wouldn’t like me saying such things about Abnegation.

“Thank you,” I say with a smile and small bow of the head to the grey-clothed boy who holds open my door.

He returns the small bow, and for a moment I wonder how many people will choose to be like him. How many people will put the needs of others above themselves? How many will wake up tomorrow in plain grey clothes?

I will not be one of them, of this I am sure. I am too selfish. I walk with my family into the elevator, and as the doors close, I lose sight of the grey crowd of Abnegation.

The doors open again after a few moments, and we walk down the hall to the Choosing Ceremony. A few Erudite girls walk next to me, chattering excitedly about the history of the Ceremony and how each faction’s element was chosen. I could not be like them either; though I am fascinated by the mechanics of things around me, I am not driven by a desire to understand them. I wonder if the girls will choose their own faction today, if they truly feel they have found their place in Erudite. They branch off from me as we exit the hall, and I walk with my parents to Amity’s seating section. It takes a few moments, as we have to stop along the way to greet my neighbours and friends with hugs. It is Amity’s standard greeting. I wonder if I will ever be greeted in such a way again after today.

When they find their seats, my parents turn to me to say goodbye, and a lump rises in my throat. “I love you,” my mother says, and I can feel the damp tears on her face as I kiss her cheek.

“We'll always be proud of you, no matter what,” my father says with a sad smile, and I feel my heart jump into my throat. If he thought to say something like that, then he must know what’s been on my mind. I look down, too afraid to meet their gaze, and when I look back up a few seconds later they have already turned away, vanishing into the crowd of red and yellow clothes as they find their seats.
Hannah links her elbow with mine as she waves goodbye to her parents, and she leads the way as we go to stand in the line for all the dependents who are choosing today. She doesn't seem any different today; she is her same vibrant self. She must be certain of what she will choose. I should be, too; I have had sixteen years to make this decision, and my aptitude test has already told me where I belong. But my hands still shake as I clasp them together in front of me.

The Dauntless leader steps up to the stage and takes his place behind the podium, and the crowd gradually quiets to let him speak, but I can’t focus on what he’s saying. My mind swirls with a thick fog of indecision, a million thoughts all demanding to be contemplated and acknowledged. I hear him call out the names of all the factions, reminding us what they each stand for and what they blame for the war. When he calls out Amity’s purpose, the people of my faction smile and a few reach over to hug the person next to them, all of them proud of their faction and what it serves.

“And so, today we honour our dependents as they choose their factions, and welcome our initiates as they join us in working towards a better society,” the man finishes. Hannah takes my hand in hers, though I'm not sure if she's trying to comfort herself or me.

The first name is called. An Erudite girl steps onto the stage confidently, accepts the knife she is given, and I see the smile on her face as she cuts her hand over the bowl of water. She will stay in her faction; she is loyal. Erudite claps politely; everyone looks unsurprised but proud nonetheless.

The next few names called are also loyal. Their expressions are peaceful as they drop their blood into the bowl of their own faction, and I can feel my uneasiness growing. The longer it takes for the first transfer to be called, the more pressure it puts on the rest of us.

The next dependent to be called up to stage is a boy in grey clothes. I recognize him as the boy who held my door open today, and my stomach sinks as I notice that he wears the same uneasy expression that I do. He accepts the knife given to him and cuts a line of red into his palm, letting the blood drip at his feet for a few seconds. I see his shoulders rise and fall as he takes a deep breath, and then he reaches forward and lets his blood fall onto glass. He has chosen Candor.

I close my eyes, trying to pretend I don’t hear the hushed murmurs that fill the room. The whispers are broken up by the loud claps that could only be coming from Candor, and when I open my eyes again the boy is seated in the front row of the section. His grey clothes stand out from the sea of black and white around him, but the people next to him pat his shoulders and smile at him. His new faction has welcomed him, but the people from his old faction – his parents, his neighbours, his friends – will mourn him.

“Hannah Mallory,” calls the Dauntless leader.

Hannah squeezes my hand tighter before letting it go. She walks up to the stage with an easy smile on her face, though I don’t miss the way her fingers shake as she reaches for the knife. She cuts a little too deep into her palm, making the blood run in a thin stream down her wrist, but she doesn’t seem to notice. Her eyes focus on the bowls in front of her, and maybe I'm imagining it, but I think I see her eyes dwell on the Erudite bowl. She reaches out with her wounded hand, her blood dripping into the bowl she has chosen, and I squeeze my eyes shut as I wonder if her blood has hit earth or water.

“Amity,” the Dauntless leader says, and my breath comes out in a long whoosh. It’s selfish of me, but I am glad that she will stay there. The thought of my best friend in Erudite blue instead of her familiar yellow Amity sundress makes me uneasy.

The relief lasts only a few seconds, shattered to pieces when I hear my own name. “Valerie Noble.”

I bite down on the inside of my cheek to keep my expression neutral. I can feel my parents’ eyes trained on me, watching my every move as I climb the stairs onto the stage. The leader of Dauntless holds out a knife for me, and I take it with uncertain fingers. I cut a careful shallow slice into my hand, watching as my blood seeps out onto my skin. It matches the red of my cardigan, the red of my faction. Amity red; I have grown up wearing it, bearing the weight that this red represents. Kindness and peace; those are the principles that I have valued my whole life. I could continue to live my life like this, spending my days in the orchards or in one of the counselling offices. I could wear red and yellow clothes until the day I die, surrounded by the familiar smell of apples and earth.

But that is not who I am, not what I want for myself. I reach forward and, before the fear can stop me, let my blood fall onto the hot coals, sizzling as it hits the burnt blood of the people who came before me. The Dauntless leader in front of me gives me a small proud smile, and his faction – my faction, now – erupts in loud cheers behind me, stomping their feet on the ground for me. I turn and walk to their section, on the opposite side of the room from Amity, and as hard as I try not to, I can’t help but sneak a glance over to find my parents. When my eyes meet theirs, they are smiling, though my mother dabs at her eyes. I almost turn away, thinking maybe my family understands, but I see Hannah out of the corner of my eye. She frowns at me, eyes narrowed, before turning away.

It doesn’t matter; not anymore. My faction will support me now, I remind myself, though my fingers reach back to feel the buttercups in my braid that she had done so delicately for me just an hour ago. Everything is different now; there's no going back.