I look at each of the bowls, my pulse pounding in my ears as I consider what they represent.

Amity wood, for the kind.

Candor glass, for the honest.

Erudite water, for the smart.

Abnegation rocks, for the selfless.

And finally…

Dauntless fire. For the brave.

All my life, I've lived within the colorless walls of the Abnegation compound. I've wandered through my days as if in a dream, drifting from one pointless task to another, spurred on by a forced obligation to keep my head down and to not think about myself. To constantly smother myself so as to not shine too bright.

But now, for the first time in my life, I finally have the power to choose.

I pick up the knife and slice deeply into my palm. There are a few startled gasps from the Amity and Abnegation sections as blood starts dripping down my hand and onto the auditorium floor. Most initiates simply prick their fingers, but for what I am about to do, I can't afford anything less than total commitment.

For a brief second, I wonder if this is how my brother Caleb felt, right before he spilt his blood into the Erudite bowl. I wonder whether he thought of the betrayal our parents would feel, or the difficulties he would face, starting a new life in a completely new faction.

But then I realize that it hardly matters anymore.

Faction before blood.

I lift my bleeding hand over the fiery Dauntless bowl, and watch as my blood splatters and sizzles over the coals.

"Beatrice Prior… Dauntless!" announces the Abnegation leader Marcus Eaton, prompting a small smattering of confused applause from the auditorium. Everyone seems shocked that someone like me, someone who to this point has been so meek and unassuming, has now signed her life away to the warrior faction. But it doesn't matter what they feel. Because for the very first time, it only matters what I feel. And as I sit down amidst a sea of black, I get a thrill of something that feels remarkably like...

Victory.

As the ceremony goes on, I look around and spot my parents in the crowd. My mom is looking back at me and smiling, but my dad is staring straight ahead, his back rigid and his posture severe.

I also seek out my brother Caleb in the Erudite section. As soon as we see each other, he jerks his head away as if stung. It hurts more than it should. Why didn't he tell me he was planning to transfer?

My hand is still dripping blood, so I tear a piece of cloth from the bottom of my grey Abnegation skirt and carefully tie it around my palm. Everything is suddenly much less certain. I have no idea what awaits me in my new life. Dauntless initiation is largely considered to be the toughest, and as a smaller girl, I've never been encouraged to do anything strenuous or athletic. Would I even be able to make it?

I would.

No, I will.

The rest of the Choosing Ceremony goes by in a blur, until suddenly it ends and the Dauntless around me are racing out of the auditorium. The Abnegation are always the last to leave, but by the time I realize that I'm no longer beholden to the rules of Abnegation, most of the Dauntless are already through the doors and I have to sprint to catch up.

"What's the matter Stiff, lagging behind already?" Sneers a Candor transfer as I catch up to the group in the field outside the Auditorium. He is taller and more muscular than any of the other transfers, with plain brown hair and muddy eyes that gleam with hidden cruelty. Abnegation has little in the way of physical activity, and I am already struggling to catch my breath, so I don't bother responding to his insult.

"Typical Stiff, can't even stand up for herself," he taunts again.

I shoot him a nasty glare, and then turn away to ignore him. My legs are burning, but in a strange way, it actually feels good. I can challenge myself, and challenge my physical limits, because I am no longer obligated to be weak – now, I am expected to be strong.

And I'll show them just how strong I can really be.

I reach the railing of the train tracks right behind the Dauntless initiates, who have already begun scaling the huge metal structure. I've never climbed anything before in my life, but I don't think twice as I circle to the other side and jump to grasp onto the metal grating. My injured hand shrieks in agony, but I ignore the fresh plume of blood on my makeshift bandage and climb steadily upwards, pausing only to see where my next handhold is.

I think I'm doing well, until about three feet from the top, I look up to see that there is nothing left for me to grab onto.

I'm stuck.

The other initiates are all climbing up the other side, and from the pace they crest over the top, there must be some sort of support structure on that side spanning the length of the gap. I nearly growl with frustration. But as I continue to hang there, I realize that my predicament is far more serious than I first realized. My arms are wobbly from the climb, and my grip is slippery with fresh blood from my palm. I have to do something soon, because I might not be able to hold on for much longer.

But I refuse to fall down and die. Not here. And not now.

So with an almighty lurch, I bunch up my legs and jump into open air with my arms outstretched. My heart stops, and for a moment I'm positive that I'm not going to make it, that I'm going to plummet to my death…!

I feel the cutting edge of metal beneath my fingertips and grasp onto the ledge for dear life. My deathly grip is the only thing keeping me alive as my body sways with the momentum of the leap. Everything bursts into crystal clarity, and all my senses are hyper aware as I swing perilously over open air.

With a monumentous heave, I pull myself up by my arms and clamber over the edge.

My arms feel like rubber, my hand is bleeding, and my heart is pounding with adrenaline. But I don't have any time to catch my breath – the train is already rounding the corner and barreling onto the platform. The Dauntless-born initiates immediately begin jumping onto the moving train, their movements quick and confident. The transfer initiates begin to follow suit with more hesitation.

Now or never.

I shove away whatever pain I'm feeling and start sprinting towards the tracks. My arms and legs piston to make great leaping strides, each one bringing me closer to the train. Only a few people are left on the platform, including an Erudite girl who is sobbing and trembling like a leaf, and a Candor boy who can't seem to run fast enough to catch up to the train. If I was still in Abnegation it would be my duty to stop and help them. But I'm in Dauntless now, and the train is almost clear of the platform, so I merely pump my arms and run faster.

I am nearing the end of the tracks, and once again, I realize that I might very well die. But at this point, nothing else matters except getting on that blasted train.

So with another death-defying leap, I launch myself into open air towards the final compartment. My knees bash against the bottom of the door, but my bloody hands manage to clutch the side of the railing, and with one final pull, I topple headfirst into the compartment.

I made it.

"Well shit, you sure know how to make an entrance!" states a Candor girl with kind brown eyes and dusky skin. Her tone is appreciative rather than mocking, but I don't bother to respond. Instead, I take a moment to catch my breath and kiss the solid metal flooring.

"What a freak," mutters the same boy who had jeered at me earlier.

"Guys, Brian just jumped!" announces a blonde Candor boy. Everyone rushes to crowd around him by the door, already forgetting about my dramatic entrance.

"Oh my god… Oh my god! Is he dead?"

"What the fuck do you think, Christina?" scowls the boy with cruel eyes. "He just fell like fifty feet onto cement. Of course he's dead."

"Shut the fuck up, Peter!" Christina snarls.

"Can we all just show some decency?" interjects the blonde Candor boy. He is almost as tall as Peter, but his watery blue eyes project an image of compassion rather than strength. "We've known him since Lower-levels. And now he's dead."

The mood turns somber, and Peter rolls his eyes. "Whatever, Al. He wasn't fit for Dauntless anyway. None of you saps are. So while you sit here and cry about it, I'm gonna go find some people who are actually worth my time."

And with that, he stomps off into the next compartment.

"What an asshole," Christina mutters.

"I just don't understand, why did he jump?" Al wonders aloud.

I am about to answer, to tell him that jumping and dying is better than not jumping at all – that it was better for him to have one final moment of strength than to live forever in weakness – but a boy with wavy black hair and blue eyes, an Erudite transfer, answers instead.

"Because he didn't want to be factionless," he states simply.

"What do you mean?" Christina asks.

"Isn't it obvious?" he answers. "This is all a test to weed out anyone who isn't strong enough to be Dauntless. Anyone who didn't make it? They're out. Factionless."

Christina gasps, but really, I don't see what's so surprising about it. Dauntless is the warrior faction. If you can't keep up, then you aren't meant to be in Dauntless. But I know enough to keep my mouth shut, because my thoughts sound remarkably like what Peter had said earlier, and I doubt they would be welcome right now.

"So that girl who didn't jump…" Al speculates.

"Her name is Maria. She is a good friend of mine. Or, was a good friend of mine," the Erudite boy corrects himself. "My name is Will, by the way."

His introduction sets off a round of introductions, which seem to break the gloom of Brian's death and the knowledge that their positions in Dauntless are anything but assured. Since I already know their names, I tune them out, and instead opt to tear another strip off the bottom of my skirt to re-bandage my cut. I'm relieved to see that it has finally stopped bleeding, and tie it up in the simple gray cloth.

Just as it is my turn to introduce myself, the train starts slowing down, and Christina peeks her head out of the open door. "It looks like everyone is getting off!"

"Well then we better not wait," Will states, walking over to the opening. He looks at Christina, and they wordlessly nod and latch their hands together before jumping off of the train. Al follows behind them. And although I am hesitant to leave the safety of the train so soon after almost dying twice, I force myself not to think about it as I fling myself out and roll onto the gravel-topped roof. It's a painful landing, and I land with too much force on my already bruised knees – but I make it. And really, that's all that matters.

A Dauntless-born girl does not, and we all hear her scream as she falls off the train and down to the pavement below. Her scream is abruptly silenced, and we all know what that means.

The train whizzes by and disappears as it curves beyond the building. The stunned silence is broken by an ear-piercing wail of despair. I instinctively flinch and turn to witness as two Dauntless-born initiates trying to restrain a third, who by the way she's crying out, must be the sister of the girl that just died. All the other initiates stand around somberly, looking at each other and wondering what to do.

"Good to see you all finally made it. Or I guess I should say, some of you," sneers a carelessly malicious voice to my left. I whip my head around and lock eyes with the single most intimidating man I've ever seen. His cold gray eyes bore into mine and shred through my defenses like razor wire. I'm paralyzed by the irrational fear that he can somehow see into my mind. My very soul.

After a brief moment, he looks away dismissively. As if I'm not even worth his time.

The effect is an extreme internal maelstrom of some of the most disconcerting things I've ever felt. Surprise, fear, confusion… but mostly anger.

He judged me to be unworthy.

And that's something I can't allow.

His cold eyes gleam as they appraise the rest of the initiates, lingering on the Dauntless girl who is still sobbing hysterically at the loss of her sister. His mouth twitches in undisguised annoyance. I put two and two together, and quickly realize that he doesn't care if initiates have already died, nor if the remaining initiates have just witnessed it. In fact, he seems supremely displeased by such an open showing of grief.

His casual disdain is so utterly foreign to me that I can't help but stare at him in fascination. In Abnegation, everyone is expected to huddle around and offer sympathy if anyone so much as gets a paper cut. Funerals are long drawn out affairs that the entire community is expected cry at, regardless of whether you actually knew the person or not. But that's Abnegation. This is Dauntless. And from the man's growing sneer, it's clear that he considers it weak to mourn the dead.

He is still sizing everyone up, so I take the opportunity to examine him further. He is obscenely muscular, and his vest does nothing to hide the thick biceps that bulge beneath his crossed arms like they're about to burst through his skin. His body is littered with tattoos, with two mechanical ones running down both of his forearms and two blocky ones that trail down his neck. He has two piercings above his left eyebrow, and his dirty blonde hair is shaved on both sides of his head.

But such things are merely superficial – I've seen Dauntless with tattoos and piercings before, and none of them made half the impression on me that he did.

So what makes him so special?

Maybe it's his stance, and the way he stands so confidently on the ledge of what looks like a very steep drop behind him.

Maybe it's his eyes, and the way that they sized me up so thoroughly before I even had the chance to blink.

Or maybe its just him. He radiates power and ruthlessness. He is a leader, a warrior… maybe even a killer. He is everything I have always imagined a perfect Dauntless to be.

And he found me lacking.

The knowledge leaves an bitter taste in my mouth that is difficult to swallow. I cannot blame anyone else but myself for my failure.

But I also have the potential to get stronger.

And so, before he's even said one word to me, I have decided to do everything in my power to prove myself to this man. To show him that I'm not as weak as the still-sobbing Dauntless girl. Because if he judges me to be worthy, then I will have truly earned my spot in Dauntless.

He seems to be satisfied with looking us over, because he snorts and starts speaking once more. "My name is Eric, and I'm one of the Leaders here in Dauntless. Since some of you look too pathetic to tie your own shoelaces, I'll remind you of who we are. Dauntless protect the city and keep it from spiraling into chaos. We're the only ones strong enough to maintain order, the only ones brave enough to face danger, and the only ones who put our lives on the line every fucking day!"

I flinch at his profanity. In Abnegation, a Leader using curse words in public is simply unheard of.

His steely eyes dart back to me, and his mouth drawls into a cruel smirk before they drift away again. "The next few weeks will be difficult. You will be pushed like you've never been pushed before. Some of you won't make it. But if you truly want to be Dauntless, if you truly want to prove yourselves worthy of being one of us, you'll have to leap headfirst into the abyss and embrace everything that we stand for. And that starts right now."

He gestures to the empty chasm behind him, and I realize that he means for us to jump down there. It's almost too perfect. Because after all the deathly leaps I've made today, what's one more?

This time, I'm ready for it.

"You don't seriously expect us to jump down there, do you?" calls out a red-haired Candor girl standing next to Peter. While everybody is distracted by her outburst, I make my way through the crowd and next to the ledge.

"That's exactly what I expect!" Eric spits. "That is, if any of you are actually brave enough to –"

He doesn't get the chance to finish because I have already stepped forward and onto the ledge. I am standing level with Eric now, though he is still so tall that he towers over me, and I am pleased to see a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

"I'll do it," I state simply.

His mouth curls into another taunting smirk. "Well then go ahead Stiff. If you dare."

I look down, and realize that the hole is so deep that I cannot see the bottom. I inch closer, trying to decide the best way to jump in. I notice that the opening is surrounded by jagged metal.

"She can't do it! She's too scared!" Peter jeers, earning a few chuckles from the group.

I tune him out. The sharp metal is worrisome because it could easily catch on my skirt, which is still quite long despite the two bandage strips I tore from it. Deciding modesty is not more important than my life, I reach around and untie my skirt, letting it pool to the ground before stepping out clad in just my dull grey leggings.

"Woo, Stiff! Take it off!" Peter catcalls. I bend down and ball-up my skirt before throwing it viciously in his direction, smacking him right in the face with it.

"Enough!" Eric barks, glaring at Peter before turning back towards me. "I don't have all day, initiate."

He doesn't need to ask twice.

I smile and give him a cheeky two-finger salute, amazed at my own daring, before diving headfirst into the gaping chasm below.

He did, after all, say headfirst.

I hear someone behind me scream, but the noise is quickly drowned out by the whoosh of wind as I go soaring through empty air.

I'm flying!

There is no fear. It doesn't even matter whether there will be something down there to break my fall, or whether these are the last few moments of my life. Because in this moment, I am far beyond my old life and all of its self-imposed rules. I am truly, finally, free.

A joyous laughter bursts forth from deep within my stomach, the sound of it echoing through the empty chasm.

I am still laughing as I belly-flop into the net.

It takes a few bounces for my momentum to dissipate, and then the net is being pulled down to my right, so I obligingly roll in that direction. A stern but attractive man with deep blue eyes helps me down. He looks at me at asks, "What's your name, initiate?"

"Be-" I start to say, before stopping myself. Beatrice Prior was the meek Abnegation girl who was never in control of her own life. And I'm not that girl anymore.

"You can choose a new name," he advises me. "But only once, and then you're stuck with it."

I nod in understanding. I think for a few moments, and then like a spark, it comes to me.

"My name is Tris."

He nods approvingly, writes something down on his clipboard, and then announces, "First jumper, Tris!"

I hear a roar of applause, and I am shocked as more lights flicker on to reveal a crowd of Dauntless surrounding us on a balcony.

"Go wait over there," he instructs, pointing to an area off to the side. I follow his instructions, still amazed that I am actually being applauded. Being the first person to jump must be some sort of special thing.

Once the cheers die down, I wait as one after another, the other initiates jump down into the net. Some only let out a single cry of fear, and some scream bloody murder the entire way down. But none are silent, and certainly nobody laughs like I had.

Maybe Peter was right. Maybe I am a freak?

Eventually, everyone makes their way down, with some petite Erudite girl being the last to jump. I look up expectantly, waiting for Eric to jump down, but it seems he's not joining us. Instead, a blonde woman with spikey flower tattoos all over her face hops down from the balcony.

"Good job," she says to me. "I would've never guessed a Stiff would jump first."

"Thanks," I say uncertainly, not sure whether to take that as a compliment or insult.

She laughs, and then ambles over to stand next to the stern man, who makes one last tick on his clipboard before launching into a quick speech.

"Welcome to Dauntless. My name is Four, and this is Lauren. I'll be training the transfer initiates, while she'll be training the rest of you. You'll have other chances to get to know each other, but for now, transfer initiates follow me."

And so the group splits up, a mass of about forty kids in black following Lauren, while our motley little crew of nine follows Four. We don't even look like we belong in Dauntless. Only Four looks like he belongs, clad in a black leather jacket and jeans. But even still, he doesn't have any tattoos or piercings that I can see, which makes him rather clean-cut as far as Dauntless is concerned. It suits his stern personality quite well.

As we walk, Four starts giving us a tour and a rundown of the rules we are supposed to follow. No murder, rape, theft, or vandalism seem rather obvious, but I listen intently all the same.

"And finally, do not fight with each other outside of training!" Four lectures, scowling intensely. "You'll have plenty of opportunities to fight while I can supervise you. The last thing I need is one of you getting hurt because of something stupid. So don't do it, unless you want to piss me off. However, if for any reason one of you does happen to get hurt, the infirmary is right down that hall."

He gestures towards a hallways leading off the main corridor, before continuing onwards. He walks us down a hallway into a large room filled with uncomfortable-looking cots.

"This will be your living area for the duration of your training. You're expected to keep it tidy at all times. If it ever gets messy, you'll be doing push-ups all morning."

There are no walls or anything to separate the girls from the boys, and I wonder how exactly we are supposed to dress or undress.

"In back are the toilets and showers. I don't care how often you shower, just don't show up stinking to high hell or I'll hose you down myself. Are we clear?"

I nod my understanding, but I am in the process of having a small mental meltdown. The toilets and showers are all completely open! There are no dividers, no curtains, just a line of toilets and sinks on one side and a row of shower heads sticking out of the wall on the other. What am I supposed to do, go to the bathroom and shower naked in front of boys I don't know?

Despite my growing panic, I am smart enough not to say anything. Christina, coming from Candor, is not.

"You mean there aren't separate bathrooms and showers for girls and boys?" she asks, clearly aghast at the idea.

"You're not girls and boys anymore," he snaps. "You're adults, and now you're Dauntless adults. So yes, you'll be shitting and showering together. Anybody else have a problem with it?"

I certainly do, but I keep my mouth shut. Instead of complaining, I'm already thinking of ways to get around it, like getting up early and showering in my bra and underwear.

Nobody else speaks up, so Four starts walking again. We all follow like ducklings behind their mother.

"Up ahead is the training room. You're expected to be there at 7am sharp every morning. If you're late, don't even bother showing up that day," he threatens ominously. "You'll be sleeping and training separately from the Dauntless initiates, but be warned – you'll be ranked together."

"Ranked?" Al blurts out. I cringe, but Four doesn't seem to mind the question.

"Yes, ranked. There are three stages of your training, and you'll be evaluated during each of them. All of the initiates will be ranked together, and after Stage 1 and Stage 3, the lowest ranking initiates will be cut."

"Cut?" the red-head next to Peter exclaims. "I wouldn't have signed up for this if I knew only some of us would make it!"

"Then you signed up for the wrong faction!" roars a voice, but it's not Four. It's Eric, who has somehow met up with us in the hallway. "A true Dauntless isn't afraid of failing! The survival of everyone in this city depends on you being strong enough to protect it. If you can't keep up, then we're not going to risk people's lives, or waste our time, trying to catch you up. You chose us, but now, we get to choose you."

It might seem harsh, but his words ring true to my ears. Because while it is intimidating to be pitted against the other initiates, I can't deny that it'll motivate me even more. I was already determined to do whatever it took to earn my spot – to show that I wasn't weak or pathetic. And now, I actually have the chance to prove that I'm better than them. I smile at the realization, which earns me a sharp look from Eric.

"Eric, what are you even doing here?" Four asks wearily.

"Nothing in particular," he shrugs, his tone switching from hostility to cold nonchalance in the blink of an eye. "Seeing as my part in this whole intro-shindig is done, I was just on my way to the Pit for a drink. Mind if I tag along?"

I have no idea where he has entered from, or whether our corridor does happen to be in the path from there to the Pit, but from Four's suspicious glance, it seems unlikely to be the case. Still, Eric is a Leader, and while I don't yet know Four's rank, it is clearly below Eric's, so he answers with an equally nonchalant "Sure."

"Excellent," Eric replies, his chilly smile obviously fake.

Four continues his tour, I guess deciding that the best way to proceed is by pretending that Eric isn't there. Eric obliges him, and lingers near the back of the group. Without really thinking about it, I lag behind to walk next to him. But as soon as I'm beside him, I realize that I've made a terrible mistake. Danger leaks from his every pore and surrounds him like a storm cloud. This close to him, there must be at least a hundred different ways that he could kill me, if he so chose.

I wonder if I'm suicidal, or just stupid, for willingly exposing myself to his presence.

"You're a smartass," he suddenly comments without looking at me. As if I'm too far below his notice to merit eye contact. "You've got no muscle, no fighting skills, and I'm sure you've never even killed a bug."

He is silent for a few moments, and I wonder how exactly I am supposed to respond to this, when he surprises me by saying, "But I like your style. So you better not fucking disappoint me."

I turn to him, my gaze intense enough to make him glance at me. His cold grey eyes connect with my hazel, and I do my best not to flinch.

"I won't," I swear to him, the words uttered with fiery determination. "But you're wrong."

He snickers, as if the very thought of him being wrong about something is amusing, but he humors me by asking, "Oh yeah? How so?"

I hesitate, but only for a moment. "When I was a kid, I used to burn ants with a magnifying glass," I admit, unsure of why I'm doing so. I doubt he will be horrified like my father was when I made the mistake of telling him, but I'm almost positive he's going to mock me for it.

Instead, he chuckles loudly and deeply. I tense at the unexpected sound, and then feel perversely comforted when I realize it retains a cutting edge of menace to it.

"No shit?" he asks.

"No shit," I affirm, the curse-word slipping from my mouth as easily as water, despite it being the very first time I've ever used one.

He is still grinning when we exit the corridor into a giant subterranean villa. A river spills from a gap in the stone and down into a chasm below, with a rickety metal bridge spanning the gap. After the bridge the path trails down in a long spiral, with several shops and hallways branching out, and ends at what looks like a bar and general hangout area near the bottom of the pit. Other than the slippery bridge, there are no railings along the path, which is rocky and full of treacherous stairs.

"This is my exit," Eric announces. For a moment, I think he is still talking to me, until Four nods back at him.

Eric takes off without another word, sprinting full speed down the path and leaping over an entire flight of stairs like it was nothing. I stare after him in amazement. Of course he didn't bother being careful. Why would he? Being careful would imply that he is cautious, or afraid of getting hurt. And he is neither.

Four is talking again, explaining about the Pit and the chasm, but I tune him out, figuring it's fairly self-explanatory. The Pit is the bar at the bottom, the chasm is the giant chasm the river disappears into, and the shops are the shops. He then leads us about halfway down and then gestures towards a collection of shimmering buildings that start where we're standing and dominate the cavern up to the glass ceiling, beyond which sparkles the starry nighttime sky. "Those are the apartments, and where you'll be living if you make it through initiation. There are some apartments higher up, near the Pire, but those are reserved for Leaders."

Well, at least we get better living arrangements once we get through initiation. I stare at the twinkling amber glass near the top and wonder which of the rooms Eric lives in, before realizing that it's a completely inappropriate train of thought, and force myself to stop thinking about it immediately.

Four then gestures to a building next to the apartments that has a steady stream of Dauntless coming in and out of it. "That's the cafeteria. We have meal times, but there's always something being served if you want a quick bite to eat. Breakfast starts at 5:30am, lunch starts at noon, and dinner is being served right now. There's a welcoming party going on for all the new initiates, so get your food in the cafeteria and then head down to the Pit."

At that, everyone looks at each other excitedly.

"So, any questions?" Four asks.

Nobody says anything, apparently satisfied with the tour and eager to get going.

"Alright then. Just remember, your training starts tomorrow, so don't stay up too late or get too drunk. And once again, welcome to Dauntless."

With that, Four turns around and bolts down the stairs to the Pit. He's quick, but not nearly as quick as Eric. It's clear that Four goes fast because he wants to reach his destination, whereas Eric goes fast as some sort of personal challenge.

With Four gone, the transfer initiates all look at each other, and then break off into smaller groups. Two of the Erudites wander away together holding hands, marking themselves as a couple. Christina starts chattering with Al and Will as they all head into the cafeteria. Peter makes a face at me, and then goes off with his little group of Candor transfers consisting of the obnoxious red-head girl and a boy with caramel skin.

I am left alone.

I feel the telltale sting of rejection, but I roughly shove it down. I've never had any friends, so being alone suits me just fine. Besides, they're being idiots. Our first day of training is tomorrow, and we're going to be ranked against kids who have been in Dauntless their entire lives. I don't know about the other initiates, but I know one thing – I need as much extra training and practice as I can get.

No muscles and no fighting skills, Eric had said. Well, he was right. I have a slim build, and I have never been in anything resembling a fight. I would need someone to help me with fighting skills, but muscles…

I eyeball the path back up to the bridge appraisingly. Eric had treated it like an obstacle, a challenge to be conquered. If I wanted to be more like him, the most logical way to go about it was to start doing the same things as him.

My mind made up, I start sprinting up the path. My muscles protest almost as soon as I begin – I've exerted myself more in the last few hours than I have my entire life, and my body isn't used to such strain. But I know that this is only the beginning. Things will only get harder and harder. So I suck it up and keep moving, clambering up the stairs and slopes as fast as I can, eyes glued to the path in front of me to prevent any missteps. My breathing quickly becomes labored, and little beads of sweat begin forming on my skin.

Good, I think savagely. This is what I want. I want to work the hardest, to hurt the most, to be the best.

It is with this mantra pounding through my head that I reach the bridge. I don't even hesitate before turning around and starting back down. Going down is less physically exerting, but requires greater perception. The rock is riddled with potholes in some spots, and worn down into a slippery surface in others. My entire concentration is focused on making sure my feet land in safe places so that I won't slip and go tumbling down into the Pit. I'm huffing and puffing by the time I reach the bottom, but I am once again exhilarated. The challenge, the ability to overcome my weakness, the power to take control of my own life – I can think of no better way to spend my evening, and it shows in the pained smile plastered on my face.

I run, and run, and then run some more, up and down, until I am flying so high on adrenaline that I can scarcely feel my legs. I barely acknowledge the other initiates walking past me as they head back to the dorm, as I'm too caught up in the movement of my muscles and the pounding of my feet against the rocky stairwell. I am quicker and more confident with each lap I take. I am exploring the possibilities of my body, how it moves, and how to push past the limits that had always been imposed on it.

I can do anything. The thought comes, and with it, a surge of intoxicating glee that threatens to overwhelm me.

I have been what other people expected me to be for so long, that I'd forgotten I could choose to be someone else. Someone strong. Someone dangerous.

Beatrice Prior is dead.

My name is Tris.

Nobody stops me, and in fact, nobody even seems to find it odd that a girl in Abnegation clothes is running up and down the path like a crazy person. So by the time I stop running, at least several hours have gone by, and it is much later at night than I had intended. My legs feel like rubber, and even my abdomen and arms feel a little wobbly. The thought of food is unappealing, but I know from Mid-level biology that the human body needs protein to form muscle, so I set my sights on the cafeteria.

I jog inside, anything slower seeming abnormal due to how long I've just been running. There are a few middle-aged Dauntless sitting and chatting at a table, but otherwise the cafeteria is empty. I meander over to a pair of metal bins containing the remnants of today's dinner and grab three cold hamburgers and two bottles of water. I chug the first water bottle standing right there next to the water cooler, and although I get the urge to throw it all back up, pure willpower keeps it down. I crumple up the empty bottle and toss it into the recycling bin. I pop open the second, taking smaller sips as I sit down onto a random bench to eat my food.

Suddenly, I'm ravenous, and I realize that I haven't eaten since breakfast. I polish off the first two hamburgers in less than ten minutes, an impressive feat considering I've never eaten such rich food before. Beef was considered too indulgent for Abnegation – instead, we ate boiled chicken and unseasoned vegetables.

I scowl at the memory, my cheeks stuffed with hamburger.

So much of Abnegation was about punishing yourself, about convincing yourself that you weren't worthy of anything but the barest life necessities. The fact that I had considered staying there, even for a moment, almost makes me sick.

Tori, the woman who administered my Aptitude Test, had told me it would be safer to stay in Abnegation since I was Divergent – whatever the heck that meant. But I would choose trembling muscles and the threat of death, over boiled chicken and mindless safety, any day of the week. I could never go back. Not now, that I finally know what it feels like to be alive.

I eat my third hamburger more slowly, savoring the taste of spices that I'm sure were delicious when the beef was warm and juicy. I take sips of water in between bites, forcing it all down. When I finally consume the last crumb, I stand up.

It's late, and I feel absolutely filthy, so the best thing for me to do is to take a shower and go to sleep. So with a new mission in mind, I trot out of the cafeteria and break into a run once I'm on the path again. It's amazing how much easier it is than just a few hours ago. I know where to step, and at what sections I can accelerate. I don't need to slow back down until I reach the bridge and head into the poorly lit hallway where the dorms are located. I creep my way forward in the dark, cursing myself for losing track of time so thoroughly. But the corridor is straight, and there's nothing treacherous about it, so I soon find my way back to the pitch black dorm room where everyone is seemingly asleep.

I grope my way along the edge of the wall, following the wall until I reach the ceramic plating that marks the start of the showers. I quickly shrug off my Abnegation jacket, shirt, and leggings, but leave on my bra and underwear, as I don't want to wander around wet and naked in the dark. The water is icy cold when I first turn it on, but soon it heats up enough to be bearable, and I hop underneath the stream. I don't actually have any soap, so I settle for scrubbing my skin and letting the water wash away the accumulated dirt and grime. My fingers run through my hair to release it from its tight braid. I know my hair will be dry and frizzy tomorrow since I don't have any soap, but I'm happy enough to have a clean scalp.

All the necessities done, I turn the water off, and do my best not to shiver as the cold air hits me. Balling my dirty clothes against my chest, I make my way back towards the room, waving my hands in front of me like a blind person.

"Tris!" someone hisses to my left. It sounds like Christina.

"Yeah?" I whisper back.

"Don't be stupid, follow my voice! I saved you a bed."

I am immensely grateful that I don't have to wander from bed to bed, naked and shivering, to see which one is empty. Instead, I walk over to where I heard her, my eyes adjusting enough to see her form sitting upright in a bed.

"Here," she guides, taking my hand as I reach out. She pulls me forward and then pushes me onto the bed next to hers. "That's yours. Now get some sleep, we have to be up early tomorrow!"

Satisfied that I have found my bed, she lays back down. I feel around, and find a crisply folded outfit has been placed on the center of the bed. I quickly shove my arms into the shirt, and yank the pants on over my damp underwear.

Only once I am properly clothed do I finally untuck my sheets and climb into the bed.

"Thank you," I whisper to Christina.

She doesn't respond, and perhaps she is already asleep. But something tells me she isn't. Instead, I get the sense that we have both already said everything we need to say.

So with a soft sigh and groan, I finally roll over and fall into blissful oblivion.