Chapter Text
Grey. My room, my clothes, my neighbors, my family. It was all a maze of concrete and hardened ideals. We called it abnegation.
Abnegation was the group from which I came from and which I was told I belonged. And in order to belong, I had to be selfless, in every sense of the word.
I couldn't describe to you what my face looked like in great detail as I wasn't allowed to ruminate on it for long. If you asked me if I had any hobbies, I would have to tell you no. I didn't have a favorite anything.
My childhood was filled with stiffened backs at the dinner table, learning to keep quiet unless told otherwise and helping at the shelters, hospitals and schools. I would fake a smile for the faction-less that would come in, be quick to help when a nurse called or sit down and teach math to a child.
I would enjoy it at times. It felt good to be needed, to feel like you made a difference. To feel that you are doing the right thing.
But at night, I would curl in on myself and try to scratch away the gnawing feeling on my skin that it wasn't what I was. What a strange thing to reject, I would argue to myself. What I did was good, what I was being was good and everything was telling me it was who I was meant to be.
"Tabitha" my father would say. "Don't disappoint me. You could be a great leader one day." He told me he was trying to prepare me. He told me he wanted to help me. That he was being selfless in his abuse, he was hurting himself just as much as he hurt me.
I tried, for what felt like forever, to be what he wanted me to be. It just never seemed to be enough.
Finally, a day came when I realized that I could no longer be what he wanted me to be. He had found my stash. In a chest full of old blankets, I had hidden away some precious things. To the common eye they were random junk, but to me, they were mine. A selfish things that I had held for myself. A glass dolphin that my mother had given me. A pressed oak leaf from an amity field. A glassy rock I had found once on the way from school.
My father destroyed them, threw them out. Cursed me, lashed me. Said that after all he'd done, I had manage to fail. It went on all night.
It was a week before the test. Before the choosing ceremony. I hid my bruises with practiced skill and my father told me not to go to any of the shelters.
The grey felt more like a cell than ever before. I knew I couldn't keep going on like this. I was being given one opportunity to get out. And I had to take it.
In that moment, it wasn't a question of 'if I was Abnegation'. It was purely survival, I had to leave it behind.
The test came and passed. I was trained on how to react to every scenario to ensure I got Abnegation. I didn't disappoint father then.
Finally, the choosing ceremony came.
My father's hand was tight on my shoulder as we walked through the entrance. He made pleasantries with other council members and I smiled. My dress was itchy on my knees and I ignored it.
"Faction before Blood"
"Tabitha Eaton" my name was called. I stood from my chair and shuffled past the knees of my father, then a girl I knew from school. I walked down the stair case onto the stage in the center of the room that laid 5 bowls in front of me. One for each faction.
Standing before them, it was like seeing all the different possible roads of my life before me.
In Candor, I would be honest. I would be able to finally let go of the baggage of my upbringing, share the load and take it off my shoulders. I could learn to be free of it. I could use it's justice system to expose my father. Expose him for all the cruelty he put me through and convince them that his selflessness is not one Abnegation should aspire to. I could get the revenge I crave.
In Amity, I think I could be happy. I could leave everything behind. I could loosen up and learn to laugh. Be surrounded by the trees I loved as a child. I could learn the guitar, make a friend. Live simply, far away from my father, far away from the grey.
In Erudite, I could finally do something with my mind. My teachers always told me I was smart and I passed school without struggle. I could solve the problems I keep myself up at night with. I could be challenged, I could contribute. I could go on to be a doctor or a scientist.
In Abnegation, I could be comfortable. Comfortable in the way of doing something that's familiar. The grey walls are just a nightlight in the night. I could continue to help people, I could learn to give myself up completely. I could be the leader my father says he wants to be.
In Dauntless, I could become strong. I could learn to be the protector I so craved over the last 18 years. I could learn to protect myself. I would have to face the fear that I have coursing through my veins and do something with it. Maybe I could be free from it.
So many paths. To choose anything but Abnegation went against everything I had been taught, everything I had known. The ultimate selfish act.
But when I glanced at my father and saw his piercing eyes, I rubbed the bruise on my arm and felt my stomach fall.
I took the knife from the table and slide it across my palm. I don't know what the smart decision was, so perhaps it was best that I didn't choose Erudite. The blood rolled down hand and simmered as it fell into the Dauntless bowl.
The room filled with shocked gasps and polite clapping. I staggered away from the stage and into the arms of a boy clad in black leather. He roared something at me with a smile, but my eyes were on the doors.
I only had minuets until the ceremony was over. I was close to the bottom of the list. I rushed to the bathroom, the door slamming behind me.
There was a large mirror on the wall. Clearly this was built without the thought of Abnegation's rejection of vanity in mind. We were always told it was best to keep your eyes down when faced with an enemy such as a mirror.
In it, I found a girl. A girl I didn't recognize. She had long hair pulled back, with a long baggy dress and a long sleeve covering her arms. I didn't know her.
She reached into her pockets of the dress to find the scissors she had stowed away from school. She undid the ponytail and began to cut. Cut and cut and cut. She didn't know what she was doing, all she knew was it wasn't her. She couldn't be her anymore.
It was a mess once I had finished. Choppy and crooked and long at the back but it felt so much lighter. I ran my hands through it and smiled. I almost laughed at how different it felt.
Luckily, I managed to return when everyone was beginning to leave. I found the pack of black and followed it in toe. They ran out of the building, which was all I wanted to do. We ran down the street, hollering and shouting. I yelled and ran, letting the beating of my feet and roar of my chest free me of the anxiety in my chest.
It wasn't until I had hauled myself onto the rickety train line and onto the train itself that I finally began to feel like I had maybe became free.