2

The empty void of blackness and the spray of water greets me. The wind of my motion sending my hair flying out around me. I'm falling to my death.

But not for long.

I spin round, my fingers just grazing the second bar on the railing. I continue to tumble. I manage to grab the edge of the metal bridge before it's too late. "Nice view." I mutter. The metal is cold and slippery. Wet droplets from the waterfall trickle down my face. One slip and I'm dead. Clambering back onto the bridge I grin at my darer.

"Nice jump Vic." He snorts.

"You never said I had to fall, just jump. I'd like to see you do better, Felix." I ignore him. My brother says that you should just ignore Felix. He says that Felix is a coward. I decide to use my brother's strategy here. I walk casually past him as if he isn't there, Felix is just a big pansycake.

I leave the chasm behind and head to the main part of the dauntless compound. The steep paths have no railings at all. You unfortunately can't jump over railings if there aren't any. I jump onto the path below me, landing with a soft thud on the stone floor. I pump my arms and break into a run. The air whistles past me, making it seem like I'm in the sky. I can run quite fast after sixteen years of practise. I feel powerful and swift, light as a feather, steady like a bird. I sprint through the maze of rocky ledges and serpentine paths, sometimes jumping onto the lower paths.

I find the tattoo shop in it's usual spot on the second level. At least, I think it's the second level. Unlike in the other faction sectors, we have no roads, streets or buildings. We all live together in one massive complex with no real organization. Everything is jumbled up and together. I would like it if things were put in a more practical place, or if there were actual areas or levels devoted to one thing. The tattoo shop is next to a family's room. The clothes store is next to the water fountain. The initiate training rooms are spread out across the compound. Nothing is in a logical place. All it does is make it easier to get lost around here. If I had designed this place, I would have made some real changes, to make things more sensible. But I guess dauntless aren't really the ones for logical, that's Erudite's job.

I open the door of the tattoo shop and walk inside. This is one of my favourite places in the city. My brother works here, he's the closest thing to the dauntless artist. He designs the tattoos and then inks them into people's skin. It's pretty cool. He doesn't draw all of the tattoos. There's another tattoo artist called Tori. Tori drew the tattoo of a fire on my father's cheek. There are several tattoos on display. I roam round the store until I find the tattoo design of a V. The V is surrounded by inked birds of different kinds. The design is inked on a sheet of clear paper that reminds me of glass. My brother designed this tattoo just for me. I have a copy of it drawn on my arm.

"Looking at that tattoo again?" Tori asks.

"Yeah, I guess. I think I'm drawn to it a bit too much. Any new designs?" I wonder aloud.

"Well, not yet, but your older brother's working on one now. We're trying to design a tattoo of each letter." Tori replies.

"Can I see him?" I inquire.

"Sure. I have customers to tend to, but you know where to find him right?" Tori questions.

"Yes," I answer, "Should I just go in?"

"Sure." Tori answers. Then she goes off to help another customer. I pass through some curtains into the back room. My brother Cal sits at a small wooden desk, sketching something on a piece of paper. It looks like a letter R surrounded with roses.

"Hey Vic! How's things?" Cal asks.

"Ok. Can I see?"

"Sure, just be careful," he replies.

"I like it." I say. He smiles at me.

"Thanks, your having your apititude test tomorrow right? Are you nervous?" Cal wonders.

"Yeah, I kind of am." I admit. I don't want to seem like a coward, but I can trust my brother and I don't like lying. Lying just feels wrong, and won't they just learn the truth later? If you lie, your lies backfire on you, and people don't trust you. My friends and family trust me. I don't want to lose their faith in me, or my integrity.

"I understand. I was afraid too. They say fearing stuff makes you a coward, but I think a coward is someone that crumbles under fear. A coward is someone that masks their fear. So, that makes you brave. You have nothing to be scared of Vic. No matter what you pick I'll still love you. But remember, this choice is the one that defines you for the rest of your life, so choose wisely." Cal's giving me good advice, but this stuff feels to heavy to take in. I just nod. "Don't worry Vic. You're a brave girl. You'll figure something out, in the meantime though, I've got work to do. Could you find something to do until dinner? I'll meet you at the pit then, ok?"

"Sure. I think I've got something to do." I say.

"Good. See you later!"

I leave the tattoo shop and head to the hub. I know that I can catch a train from there to the mixed sector. I climb the stairwell and end up on top of the roof standing next to the train tracks. The roof that I'm standing on is just under the hub. The hub looks almost like a giant glass room sitting in the sky, looming over me like a sinister figure.

The tracks shudder. I can hear the thundering roar of the approaching train. These sounds send nervous shivers down my spine, and my body tenses in anxious excitement. I love this feeling. I feel strong and powerful, as if I could conquer anything, as if nothing could stop me. Nothing can stop me catching this train, or revealing in this feeling. Nothing. Up here, I feel calm. Here I am free. Here I don't have to be anything, here I can be Vic.

The first car speeds past me. Darn it! I wasn't ready, but I'll catch the next one. The handle comes hurtling towards me, I reach out, trying to wrap my hands round the door handle. I merely graze the cold metal. Vic focus! The next train car nears by the second. This time, I watch the handle, aligning my hand so their paths will intersect. The cold metal collides with my skin. Despite the throbing pain in my fingertips, I manage to curl my hand round the handle. I feel the train starting to drag me away, the speed of the moving train makes my eyes water, and my vision blurs. My sweaty hand is slipping from the handle. I lift my other hand to the handle and grasp it with both hands, holding on for dear life. The train begins to clatter over the rails, over the city. There is no longer a roof below me, there is only empty air. The train keeps on accelerating, and the increasing speeds thrill me, increasing my heart rate and adrenaline rush. Using my grip on the handle, I throw myself onto the train. One mistake here and you're dead. Seven stories up and there'd be nothing to catch you. That makes this method of transportation, dangerous and impractical. That makes me stupid for attempting it. I know that, but I still do it.

The passenger car is empty and there are no real seats, but even if there were, I wouldn't use them. I poke my head out the open door, enjoying the rush of the cool air.

I read a book about wind and air once. I always wonder why we call it air when it's moving past us so fast. Why not call it wind in this sort of case? It certainly feels the same. But it is not the same. This is not wind. This is air, being pushed by the trains high speeds. Some people call this wind, but I know that this is really air. I wish I was fast enough to push air this way. I can make some of the air move, but not in this way. Not as much as this. I long to be this fast. I long to be faster. Faster than this train.

I'm passing the Erudite sector now. The sun gleams off the glass buildings and solar powered vans. I wonder what it would be like to be Erudite, to be someone without adrenaline rush, someone without dares. Would it be better to always think logically? It would certainly be safer. Could I live that kind of life? A life without dares, a life of practicality, a life of knowledge. A life that my family couldn't share with me. I need my family, they are a part of me. A part that I need. What will tomorrow's aptitude tell me? Who will I be? Who is Vic?

I'm approaching the mixed sector now. This is my stop. I jump onto the track next to me. I graze my knee slightly, but that doesn't matter. The next train will be here soon, so I have to get off the tracks. I watch my train chug past me. I climb down the long silver strips of metal holding up the tracks. It's a long way down, at least eight stories up. The metal is cold and sharp, perfect for supporting trains but not so good for supporting teenagers.

I leap from the track's supporters as soon as I'm close enough to the ground. It hurts my legs a bit, but I manage to stand. The cool air of evening sends shivers down my bare arms. I'm only wearing a black t-shirt. The library isn't to far though, and it's not that cold. I sprint forward, my feet pounding on the cracked stone road. The centre of the city is in the best condition, but even this area could do with renovation. I pass several old broken down buildings that serve no purpose, except maybe housing the factionless. 

I wonder if the candor would say that that's a worthwhile cause. They would debate it out in large groups, saying nothing but truth. In a way, I want to join them and only speak truth. I prefer to hear the odds and the reality of a situation instead of lies. I love debating too. Maybe I should be candor. When have I last lied? I don't remember a time. Being a candor wouldn't be too hard, all I'd have to do is be honest and I do that everyday. I don't want to leave my family though, and how could I live without dares or stunts? I think I'm thinking way too much about this. Plus, I'm being so selfish about it too. Leaving my family! How could I even consider such selfishness? How could I break their hearts by leaving them? Being dauntless would be easy, familiar and natural. It doesn't matter Vic, whatever you get tomorrow will be what you choose. That simple. If your aptitude test tells you abnegation, then you will choose abnegation. If you get dauntless, you'll be dauntless. If your classified as erudite, then you'll be erudite. If you end up with candor, then choose candor. It will all be fine as long as you don't get amity. You're not peaceful and will never be. You won't be like those pansycake amity girls. You will not become a passive coward.

As I'm walking, I pass a factionless man. His tawny hair is a mess and his wrinkly skin is caked in dirt. His clothes are old and torn. Like most factionless, this man appears timeworn and unloved. This man is one of the people without meaning to others, without a real purpose in our society. He's homeless. He lives in slums and abandoned war scarred buildings, anywhere that could provide some shelter. He drives buses and trains, as well as cleaning the streets, buildings and cars, anything to get some food or clothes. He relies on the abnegation to give him food and water when he can't do the odd job. The factionless do everything that those with a faction don't. Each faction has a single purpose. Dauntless, the brave, protect the city. Erudite, the intelligent, invent new medicines and technology to benefit us as well as documenting and advising. Candor, the honest, are our judges, our seekers of truth and justice. Abnegation, the selfless, care for the factionless and serve as our political leaders. Amity, the peaceful, maintain our farms and supply and transport food. Each faction has it's part, each faction is important. Each faction is needed.

I have a cookie in my pocket, I always carry a thing or two for the factionless. I pull the plastic bag containing the cookie out of my pocket. "Here," I say, "take this." The man stares at me in bewilderment. Dauntless never seem to notice factionless. My friends and family walk past them pretending that they don't exist. I smile at him, and he smiles back showing me his yellow teeth. Poor man. I wish I had more than a cookie to give him. I don't care what others say, factionless are people too.

I break into a  sprint, jogging towards my destination. I pass a building made of glass, wood, stone, marble and grey bricks. Materials from all the faction buildings jumbled together. This is where I will choose my faction. This is where I will make the biggest decision of my life the day after tommorrow. On the wall above the door there are five symbols. The faction symbols. A tree for amity, an eye for erudite, a set of scales for candor, two hands intertwining for abnegation and a fire for dauntless. This is the only place that I've seen all our symbols together. This is the only place that our factions seem to mix. This building will house the choosing ceremony, the ceremony that will decide what I will be for the rest of my life. Here, I must make a choice that must define me, forever.

I jog on until I reach the glass building that I recognize as my school. This place of learning is built like an erudite structure. This is a place of knowledge. I walk into the school and run down the corridors toward my destination. I enter the school library, excited and ready to read. I burst in shouting "Got any new books? If not I don't care, I just want to-"

"Shhh." The librarian says grinning, "I know you dauntless always need your attention and feel like you have to scream to get it, but you have to remember that this is a library. You need to be quiet Vic." The librarian is a real friend, and always seems to know what I'd like. Erudites have a gift for knowing more than they should about everything, including people. No one but an erudite would work in a library. The librarian wears the typical erudite blue. She's clutching a book in one hand and a pair of reading glasses in the other.

"Sorry, I honestly forgot to quiet down." I admit.

She laughs, "Most dauntless don't come here and the few that do never seem to care about my rules. Are you choosing erudite? You're certainly bright enough. You could pass the initation with the amount you've read."

"I'll consider it." I say grinning and I really will. "So," I say, "how about that book? What do you have to read? I'm fairly interested in animals, do you have anything about them?"