I'm not going to pretend to know what's going on with you," he says. "But if you senselessly risk your life again -- "
"I am not senselessly risking my life. I am trying to make sacrifices, like my parents would have, like -- "
"You are not your parents You are a sixteen-year-old girl --"
I grit my teeth. "How dare you -- "
"-- who doesn't understand that the value of a sacrifice lies in its necessity, not in throwing your life away! And if you do that again, you and I are done.
The floor is solid metal in some places and metal grating in others. Everything smells like rotting garbage and fire.
"Don't say I never took you anywhere nice," Peter says.
"Wouldn't dream of it," I say.
What do you think they're going to do to us when they find us guilty?" she says after a few minutes of silence have passed.
"Honestly?"
"Does now seem like the time for honesty?"
I look at her from the corner of my eye. "I think they're going to force us to eat lots of cake and then take an unreasonably long nap.
Tags: humor trial cake guilty naps
Okay, okay.” I set my hand on top of his and guide it to my chest, so it’s right over my heart. “Feel my heartbeat. Can you feel it?”
“Yes.”
“Feel how steady it is?”
“It’s fast.”
“Yes, well, that has nothing to do with the box.” I wince as soon as I’m done
speaking. I just admitted to something. Hopefully he doesn’t realize that.
Simulation Tobias kisses my neck.
I try to think. I have to face the fear. I have to take control of the situation and find a way to make it less frightening.
I look Simulation Tobias in the eye and say sternly, “I am not going to sleep with you in a hallucination. Okay?”
Then I grab him by his shoulders and turn us around, pushing him against the
bedpost. I feel something other than fear—a prickle in my stomach, a bubble of laughter. I press against him and kiss him, my hands wrapping around his arms. He feels strong. He feels…good.
And he’s gone.
I laugh into my hand until my face gets hot. I must be the only initiate with this fear.
Tags: four simulation tris tobias
The man running toward me is not a man, he is a boy. A shaggy-haired boy with a crease between his eyebrows.
Will. Dull-eyed and mindless, but still Will. He stops running and mirrors me, his feet planted and his gun up. In an instant, I see his finger poised over the trigger and hear the bullet slide into the chamber, and I fire. My eyes squeezed shut. Can't breathe.
The bullet hit him in the head. I know because that's where I aimed it.
I tell myself, as sternly as possible, that is how things work here. We do dangerous things and people die. People die, and we move on to the next dangerous thing. The sooner that lesson sinks in, the better chance I have at surviving initiation.
Veronica RothIt will be difficult to break the habits of thinking Abnegation instilled in me, like tugging a single thread from a complex work of embroidery. But I will find new habits, new thoughts, new rules. I will become something else.
Veronica RothI am your instructor", he says."My name is Four".
Christina asks, "Four? Like the number?"
"Yes", Four says. "Is there a problem?"
"No."
"Good. We're about to go into the Pit, which you will someday learn to love. It-"
Christina snickers. "The Pit? Clever name."
Four walks up to Christina and leans his face close to hers. His eyes narrow, and for a second he just stares at her.
"What's your name?" he asks quietly.
"Christina", she squeaks.
"Well, Christina, if I wanted to put up with Candor smart-mouths, I would have joined their faction", he hisses.
"The first lesson you will learn from me is to keep your mouth shut.Got that?
Four wanders through the crowd of initiates, watching us as we go through the movements again. When he stops in front of me, my insides twist like someone is stirring them with a fork. He stares at me, his eyes following my body from my head to my feet, not lingering anywhere - a practical, scientific gaze.
"You don't have much muscle", he says, "which means you're better off using your knees and elbows. You can put more power behind them."
Suddenly he presses a hand to my stomach. His fingers are so long that, though the heel of his hand touches one side of my rib cage, his fingertips still touch the other side. My heart pounds so hard my chest hurts, and I stare at him, wide-eyed.
"Never forget to keep tension here", he says in a quiet voice.
Four lifts his hand and keeps walking. I feel the pressure of his palm even after he's gone. It's strange, but I have to stop and breathe for a few seconds before I can keep practicing again.
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