I'm Not Dauntless - I'm Divergent. I

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.

It Doesn't Prove Anything Except That You're Bullying Us. Which, As I Recall, Is A Sign Of Cowardice.

Somewhere Inside Me Is A Merciful, Forgiving Person. Somewhere There Is A Girl Who Tries To Understand What People Are Going Through, Who Accepts That People Do Evil Things And That Desperation Leads Them To Darker Places Than They Ever Imagined, I Swear She Exists, And She Hurts For The Repentant Boy I See In Front Of Me. But If I Saw Her, I Wouldn't Recognize Her.

Half Of Bravery Is Perspective.

I Glance At Tris. She Grins At Me, Then Leans In To Whisper Something To Christina. "are You Here To Help Or What, Stiff?" I Say.