I Want To Cry Because

I Feel Like Someone Breathed New Air Into My Lungs. I Am Not Abnegation. I Am Not Dauntless. I Am Divergent.

Well, I Already Know What Happened To My Face", I Say. "i Was There. Sort Of

Every Tattoo I Got With Them Is A Mark Of Their Friendship, And Almost Every Time I Have Laughed In This Dark Place Was Because Of Them. I Don’t Want To Lose Them. But I Feel Like I Have Already.

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 Hold The Gun Out From My Body, My Arms Straight, Just As Four Taught Me, When That Was His Only Name. I Used A Gun Like This To Defend My Father And Brother From Simulation-bound Dauntless. I Used It To Stop Eric From Shooting Tobias In The Head. It Is Not Inherently Evil. It Is Just A Tool.