Cold Hearts | Tobias Eaton

°1°

THERE IS AND always was only mirror in our house. It is behind a sliding panel in the hallway upstairs. Our faction allows me to stand in front of it on the second day of every third month, the day my mother cuts my hair.

But today is not that day. My sister Beatrice sit on the stool and our mother stands behind her with the scissors. The strands fall on the floor in a dull, blond ring. One of the many things me and my sister don't share. 

When our mother finishes, she pulls her hair away from her face and twists it into a knot. I note how calm she looks and how focused she is. She looks so abnegation. One thing I feel not even my siblings share with her.

I see Beatrice sneak a look at her now prettier reflection when our mother isn't paying attention - But could anyone blame her? Seeing your own reflection, your appearance in three months. That's something that just doesn't sit right with me at all. While looking at her, I also take a quick look of my reflection, I see a pale face, big eyes, and a smile that everyone called "the fox smile". Then I look at Beatrice. Her smooth blonde hair, small face, thin and sharp nose—She somehow still look like a little girl, even though she already turned sixteen. The other factions celebrate birthdays, for example amity receive baked apple pie, but we don't. It would be self-indulgent. And what even is apple pie?

"There,"  says our mother when she pins the knot in place. Her eyes catch mine in the mirror. It is too late to look away, but instead of scolding me, she smiles at our reflection. I frown a little. Why doesn't she reprimand me for staring at myself?

"So today is the day," she says.

"Yes," I reply.

"Are you nervous, girls ?"

I stare into Beatrice eyes for a moment. Today is the day of the aptitude test that will show us which of the five factions we belong in. And tomorrow, at the Choosing Ceremony, I will decide on a faction; I will decide the rest of my life; I will decide to stay with my family or abandon them. So will my siblings.

"No," Beatrice say. "The tests don't have to change our choices."

"Right. The test is just for little help," I look at our mom. "It's about what our hearts want, not our minds."

"Right." She smiles. "Let's go eat breakfast."

"Thank you. For cutting my hair." Beatrice looks at her hands.

She kisses her cheek and slides the panel over the mirror. I sometimes wonder how in faction can someone be so beautiful. Her body is thin beneath the gray robe that seems to swallow her. She has high cheekbones and long eyelashes, and when she lets her hair down at night, it hangs in waves over her shoulders. But she must hide that beauty in Abnegation. Abnegation believes that beauty is the starting point of selfishness.

We walk together to the kitchen. On these mornings when my brother makes breakfast and shakes my hand in our secret handshake,and my sister changes some parts of her food that I don't eat with me, and my father's hand skims sometimes my or Beatrice's hair as he reads the newspaper, and my mother hums some interesting song as she clears the table—it is on these mornings that I feel guiltiest for wanting to leave them. But if I'm selfish enough to think about that, I may be too selfish to stay. Unlike my sister Beatrice who fits here or my brother Caleb who's going to stay here no matter what, I feel like I just don't fit here.

The bus stinks of exhaust. Every time it hits a patch of uneven pavement, it jostles me from side to side, even though I'm gripping the seat and my brother's arm to keep myself still.

My older brother, Caleb, stands in the aisle, holding a railing above his head to keep himself steady. My older sister Beatrice is gripping the same seat as me. We don't look alike. He has our father's dark hair and hooked nose and our mother's green eyes and dimpled cheeks. She has our mother's hair and our father's eyes. I however don't look like anyone - maybe it's because I was found on the street or because my siblings already inherited our parent's looks. If my siblings weren't Abnegation, I'm sure everyone at school would stare at them. Although sometimes they do.  Only a blind man wouldn't notice the amity girls looking at my brother or the boys from all these factions staring at my sister. While she wouldn't believe it, she is beautiful.