My Tris Should Look Pale And Small--she

Al Walks In, And I Don't Even Have To Ask Him To Help Me, He Just Walks Over And Strips Bedding With Me. I Will Have To Scrub The Frame Later. Al Carries The Stack Of Sheets To The Trash And Together We Walk Toward The Training Room. "ignore Him," Al Says. "he's An Idiot, And If You Don't Get Angry, He'll Stop Eventually.

I Realize That The Decision Might Be Simple. It Will Require A Great Act Of Selflessness To Choose Abnegation, Or A Great Act Of Courage To Choose Dauntless, And Maybe Just Choosing One Over The Other Will Prove That I Belong.

I Think He Came To Die With Me," I Say. I Clamp My Hand Over My Mouth To Stifle A Sob. If I Can Keep Breathing, I Can Stop Crying. I Didn't Need Or Want Him To Die With Me. I Wanted To Keep Him Safe. What An Idiot, I Think, But My Heart Isn't In It. "that's Ridiculous," He Says. "that Doesn't Make Any Sense. He's Eighteen; He'll Find Another Girlfriend Once You're Dead. And He's Stupid If He Doesn't Know That." Tears Run Down My Cheeks, Hot At First And Then Cold. I Close My Eyes. "if You Think That's What It's About..." I Swallow Another Sob. "...you're The Stupid One.

I Feel A Thread Tugging Me Again, But This Time I Know That It Isn’t Some Sinister Force Dragging Me Toward Death. This Time I Know It’s My Mother's Hand, Drawing Me Into Her Arms. And I Go Gladly Into Her Embrace.

He Stares At Me, And I Don't Look Away. He Isn't A Dog, But The Same Rules Apply. Looking Away Is Submissive. Looking Him In The Eye Is A Challenge. It's My Choice.