Prologue

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I wrote this 2-3 years ago (depending on the chapter). I'm sure there are a few grammar/spelling mistakes. If you feel the need to comment on them the few times they occur then please don't bother reading. I'm not going to go back and fix them, and tbh commenting on them is just obnoxious. Thanks!

I sit up straight in the chair panting and sweating. I look around and my face stares back at me from the mirror. The Amity woman behind the computer is staring at me like I have three heads.

"Would you like to know your results?" she asks. She's less chipper than when I first came in. At first I'm taken aback at the question but I quickly remember that now everyone must take the test but it's up to you whether or not you actually know or consider the results.

"Yes please," I reply as I sit up.

She bites her lip and a brief second of worry passes over her face before a forced smile covers it up. "You're Divergent. You have an aptitude for Abnegation, Erudite, and Dauntless. Congratulations."

I smile at her slightly before I turn and walk out of the door. She can smile all she wants but I can tell she's worried for me. Divergents are no longer hunted down but some people still have problems accepting them.

I sit down at the table with the other students from Abnegation. Out of the 23 people I'm sitting with I would only consider one my friend. His name is Nathaniel but we all call him Nate when we're not around adults. Unsurprisingly it's him that first notices that something's up.

"Rebecca, you're sweating. Here, take my jacket to cover it up." Nate quickly takes off his jacket and hands it to me before I can object. I hand it back to him and shake my head.

"It's cold in here. I wouldn't want you getting cold," I reply smoothly.

Nate stares at me smugly before he puts the jacket in between both of us. He explains that if one of us needs it we can take it. The jacket sits there for the rest the day. I know he's cold and he knows I'm cold but neither one of us will touch it just in case the other one needs it. When the bell finally rings he picks up the jacket and puts it under his arm. He's Abnegation through and through. He's the child my parents should have gotten.

"Good afternoon Rebecca," a voice calls out to me from the kitchen. At first that name gave me hope for a new beginning, but now it's like nails on a chalk board. I just want to hear somebody call me by my real name. I want someone to call me Beatrice.

It's been nearly two years since I faked my death and there hasn't been a day since when I didn't regret it.

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