So Now We All Know,"

What Did You Do?” I Mumble. He Is Just A Few Feet Away From Me Now, But Not Close Enough To Hear Me. As He Passes Me He Stretches Out His Hand. He Wraps It Around My Palm And Squeezes. Squeezes, Then Lets Go. His Eyes Are Bloodshot; He Is Pale. “what Did You Do?” This Time The Question Tears From My Throat Like A Growl. I Throw Myself Toward Him, Struggling Against Peter’s Grip, Though His Hands Chafe. “what Did You Do?” I Scream. “you Die, I Die Too” Tobias Looks Over His Shoulder At Me. “i Asked You Not To Do This. You Made Your Decision. These Are The Repercussions.

When You're A Writer, You Hear Your Internal Critic, And That's Really Hard To Get Over. And Then Sometimes You Hear Critiques From Classmates And Stuff. But When A Book Comes Out, It's Just Hundreds Of Opinions And You Have To Learn To Separate Out The Ones You Want To Listen To Or Figure Out Many You Want To Listen To.

And He’s Right To Say That Every Faction Loses Something When It Gains A Virtue: The Dauntless, Brave But Cruel; The Erudite, Intelligent But Vain; The Amity, Peaceful But Passive; The Candor, Honest But Inconsiderate; The Abnegation, Selfless But Stifling.

Beatrice," She Says. "beatrice, We Have To Run." She Pulls My Arm Across Her Shoulders And Hauls Me To My Feet. She Is Dressed Like My Mother And She Looks Like My Mother, But She Is Holding A Gun, And The Determined Look In Her Eyes Is Unfamiliar To Me.

I Choose Him Over And Over Again, And He Chooses Me.