So Small As To Be

Ingenuity Requires Creativity.

My Name Is Four,” I Say. “call Me ‘stiff’ Again And You And I Will Have A Problem.

He Seems Designed Specifically For Speed And Deadly Accuracy. But Not Strength, Not Particularly-he Is Smart, But Not Strong. Only Strong Enough To Carry Me.

That Quality Frightens Me Now, Because I Know What He Told Me: That I Was Broken, That I Was Worthless, That I Was Nothing. How Many Of Those Things Did He Make Me Believe?

When I Look At Him, I Don't See The Cowardly Young Man Who Sold Me Out To Jeanine Matthews, And I Don't Hear The Excuses He Gave Afterward. When I Look At Him, I See The Boy Who Held My Hand In The Hospital When Our Mother Broke Her Wrist And Told Me It Would Be All Right. I See The Brother Who Told Me To Make My Own Choices, The Night Before The Choosing Ceremony. I Think Of All The Remarkable Things He Is--smart And Enthusiastic And Observant, Quiet And Earnest And Kind.