They Died For Me,” I Say. That

I Feel Like Myself, Strong And Weak At Once - Allowed, At Least For A Little While, To Be Both.

I Am A Child. I Am Two Feet Tall, And Asking If She Loves Me.

When You're A Teenager, Everything Seems Like The End Of The World, And I Don't Think That's Necessarily A Silly Thing. You're Waking Up And Becoming Aware That The World Has Problems And Those Problems Affect You, Whereas When You're Young They Don't Seem To Affect You That Much Even If You're Aware Of Them. This Dystopian Trend Picks Up On That Little Part Of Your Life Where Everything Feels Really Extreme And It Honors That Part Of Your Life And Says, "yeah. It Is The End Of The World. Look At It."

I Open The Door To The Fear Landscape Room And Flip Open The Small Black Box That Was In My Back Pocket To See The Syringes Inside. This Is The Box I Have Always Used, Padded Around The Needles; It Is A Sign Of Something Sick Inside Me, Or Something Brave.

Yes," Marcus Says. "i Understand That You Are Concerned -- That You All Are Concerned. You Had Never Heard Of The Divergent A Week Ago, And Now All That You Know Is That They Are Immune To Something To Which You Are Susceptible, And That Is A Frightening Thing. But I Can Assure You That There Is Nothing To Be Afraid Of, As Far As We Are Concerned." As He Speaks, His Head Tilts And His Eyebrows Lift In Sympathy, And I Understand At Once Why Some People Like Him. He Makes You Feel That If You Just Placed Everything In His Hands, He Would Take Care Of It.