I Figured I Would Shoot The Bullets

The Gun Goes Off. I Fall.

I Don't Have A Bullet In My Head, Do I? So I'm Fine.

"what Did You Do?” This Time The Question Tears From My Throat Like A Growl. I Throw Myself Toward Him. “what Did You Do?” I Scream. “you Die, I Die Too. I Asked You Not To Do This. You Made Your Decision. These Are The Repercussions."

I Don't See Any Elderly People In The Crowd. Are There Any Old Dauntless? Do They Not Last That Long, Or Are They Just Sent Away When They Can't Jump Off Moving Trains Anymore?

We Believe In Shouting For Those Who Can Only Whisper, In Defending Those Who Cannot Defend Themselves.