Divergent: Christina's point of view

Chapter Eleven!

The next morning, when I trudge into the training room, yawning, a large target stands at one en d of the room, and next to the door is a table with knives strewn across it. Target practice again. At least it won’t hurt. Eric stands in the middle of the room, his posture so rigid it looks like someone replaced his spine with a metal rod.

The sight of him makes me feel like all the air in the room is heavier, bearing down on me. At least when he was slouched against a wall, I could pretend he wasn’t here. Today I can’t pretend.

“Tomorrow will be the last day of stage one,” Eric says. “You will resume fighting then. Today, you’ll be learning how to aim. Everyone pick up three knives.” His voice is deeper than usual. “And pay attention while Four demonstrates the correct technique for throwing them.” At first no one moves. “Now!” We scramble for daggers. They aren’t as heavy as guns.

“He’s in a bad mood today,” I mumble.

“Is he ever in a good mood?” Tris murmurs back. Judging by the poisonous look Eric gives Four when he isn’t paying attention, last night’s loss must have bothered Eric more than he let on. Winning capture the flag is a matter of pride, and pride is important to the Dauntless. Four throws the first knife.

The next time he throws, he hits the target each time, exhaling as he releases the knife. Eric orders, “Line up!”

I immediatly start to throw the knives, but they either go too much to the right, or to much to the left, I look at all the other initiates so far no one has hit the wall yet, I look at Will, he seems to focus, he looks cute that way. Tris though, has not even thrown the knife, she just keeps moving her arm, with I suppose is an imaginary knife,Eric paces too qu ickly behind us.

“I think the Stiff’s taken too many hits to the head!” remarks Peter, a few people down. “Hey, Stiff! Remember what a knife is?” she practices the throw again with a knife in hand but she dosen't release it. She then throws the knife, and It spins end over end, slamming into the board. The blade doesn’t stick, she is the first person to hit the target. she smirks at Peter, who misses again. I can’t help myself, I smirk too, Peter watches me, and I realy focus, if I don't make this throw it will just be embarrassing. Just as I'm about to throw I hear Tris,

“Hey, Peter, remember what a target is?” I snort, and throw my knife hits the target. A half hour later, Al is the only initiate who hasn’t hit the target yet. His knives clatter to the floor, or bounce off the wall. While the rest of us approach the board to collect our weapons, he hunts the floor for his. The next time he tries and misses, Eric marches toward him and demands,

“How slow are you, Candor? Do you need glasses? Should I move the target closer t o you?” Al’s face turns red. He throws another knife, and this one sails a few feet to the right of the target. It spins and hits the wall. “What was that, initiate?” says Eric quietly, leaning closer to Al. I bite my lip. This isn’t good.

“It—it slipped,” says Al.

“Well, I think you should go get it,” Eric says. He scans the other initiates’ faces —everyone has stopped throwing again—and says, “Did I tell you to stop?” Knives start to hit the board. We have all seen Eric angry before, but this is different. The look in his eyes is almost rabid. “Go get it?” Al’s eyes are wide.

“But everyone’s still throwing.”

“And?”

“And I don’t want to get hit.”

“I think you can trust your fellow itiates to aim better than you.” Eric smiles a little, but his eyes stay cruel. “Go g et your knife.” Al doesn’t usually object to anything the Dauntless tell us to do. I don’t think he’s afraid to; he just knows that objecting is useless. This time Als ets his wide jaw. He’s reached the limits of his compliance.

“No,” he says.

“Why not?” Eric’s beady eyes fix on Al’s face. “Are you afraid?”

“Of getting stabbed by an airborne knife?” says Al. “Yes, I am!” Honesty is his mistake. Not his refusal, which Eric might have accepted. He has to learn how to stop being honest, I have.

“Everyone stop!” Eric shouts. The knives stop, and so does all conversation. I hold my small dagger tightly. “Clear out of the ring.” Eric looks at Al. “All except you.” I drop the dagger and it hits the dusty floor with a thud. I follow the other initiates to the edge of the room, and they inch in front of me, eager to see what makes my stomach turn: Al, facing Eric’s wrath. “Stand in front of the target,” says Eric.

Al’s big hands shake. He walks back to the target. “Hey, Four.” Eric looks over his shoulder. “Give me a hand here, huh?” Four scratches one of his eyebrows with a knife point and approaches Eric. He has dark circles under his eyes and a tense set to his mouth—he’s as tired as we are. “You’re going to stand there as he throws those kniv es,” Eric says to Al, “until you learn not to flinch.”

“Is this really necessary?” says Four. He sounds bored, but he doesn’t look bored. His face and body are tense, alert. I squeeze my hands into fists. No matter how casual Four sounds, the question is a challenge. And Four doesn’t often challenge Eric directly. At first Eric star es at Four in silence. Four stares back. Seconds pass and my fingernails bite my palms.

“I have the authority here, remember?” Eric says, so quietly I can barely hear him. “Here, and everywhere else.” Color rushes into Four’s face, though his express ion does not change. His grip on the knives tightens and his knuckles turn white as he turns to face Al. I look at Al’s wide, dark eyes to his shaking hands.Four turns the knife in his hand, his fingers moving painstakingly over the metal edge.

“Stop it.” Tris shouts. She is stupid for speaking up. “Any idiot can stand in front of a target,” she says. “It doesn’t prove anything except that you’re bullying us. Which, as I recall, is a sign of cowardice.”

“Then it should be easy for you,” Eric says. “If you’re willing to take his place.”  Tris weaves through the crowd of initiates, and someone shoves her.

“There goes your pretty face,” hisses Peter. “Oh, wa it. You don’t have one.” She walks toward Al. She stand in front of the board, and my head doesn’t even reach the center of the target, but it doesn’t matter. I look at Four’s knives: one in his right hand, two in his left hand. 

Being selfless is Tris's flaw, she has to learn that at times like this she can't play goody-too-shoes Abnegation girl, but that doesn't stop her.

“If you flinch,” Four says, slowly, carefully, “Al takes your place. Understand?” She nods. It is just a flash in the air, and then I hear a thud. The knife is buried in the board to Tris's right side a bit further than her ear.

“You about done, Stiff?” asks Four.

“No.”

“Eyes open, then.” He taps the spot between his eyebrows. He passes a knife from his left hand to his right hand, the second knife hits the target above her head. This one is closer than the last one. “Come on, Stiff,” he says. “Let someone else stand there and take it.”

“Shut up, Four!” She says, he turns the last knife in his hand. athis time the blade hits on her ear, I see blood dripping from his ear.

“I would love to stay and see if the rest of you are as daring as she is,” says Eric, his voice smooth, “but I think that’s enough for today. I should keep my eye on you,” he adds.

I start gathering my stuff, I ask Tris if she wants to come with us to the pit, she just shakes her head, she looks like she might explode from anger, I deside it's better to leave her alone. The three of us walk away. When we leave Al says, that he is going to go back to the dormitory leaving me alone with Will,

The two of us just stroll down the pit, we just kept walking.

"I can't believe that Tris just did that, I mean wow." Says Will.

"It was really cool of her to step up for Al like that." I agree.

"But she should not have done that." Says Will.

"Why not?"

"It's no secret that the desicion she made was an Abnegation desicion, putting her in danger so Al wont have to, but the fact that she still thinks like that goes to show Eric, that she's still not over Abnegation." I stare at him with shock.

"How did you get to all of that?"

"It's textbook" He says plainley. I giggle.

"I like it when you talk all Erudite." I say, mocking him.

"Oh, I get it."

"No really!" I say with a laugh.

"Do you think that our familys will come visit us?" He blurts out, visiting day is in two days, I can't believe that I forgot that.

"I think that they feel betrayed, but they wont miss out on seeing us." I say. He looks so down, and heartbroken. I put my arm around his, and interlock our fingers. A friendly sugestion, to show him that I'm here for him. Just as I'm about to let go Will squeezes my fingers not letting them escape.

"Thank you." He says, and I feel my heart skip a beat.

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Authores note:

Hey people, I hope you like this chapter please comment!!!!  I like hearing what people have to say, and please vote!!!!!! Thanks, I hope you like it!!!!!!!!!!

-Tali 21