𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 a girl who has only ever known a life of peace finds herself at the heart of a revolution, thrusting her into a world of death and destruction. when all that had once made sense suddenly falls apart before her very eyes, she is force...
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TODAY IS A DAY THAT I HAVE BEEN BOTH anticipating and dreading. Visiting Day, I have come to find, is a bit of a controversial event when it comes to transfers, especially with the Dauntless. Eric practically woke us all up by shoving that sentiment down our throats, as he stared at us all with those piercing eyes of his and reminded us that 'attachment to our families suggests we aren't entirely pleased with our faction'. Sometimes I wonder why Visiting Day exists at all if that's how it's viewed, but I've decided to keep my mouth shut on that matter. With the final rankings for stage one being posted tonight, I can't afford to give the Dauntless instructors anymore reasons to put me at the bottom of the list.
"I can't believe you decided to do this yourself."
I can feel Christina's fingers in my hair before I spot her figure in the mirror, her head turning every which way to inspect my job.
I know it's choppy, and a bit fluffy, and most of the layers around my face have now stuck themselves to my forehead, but it's different. Most of the girls in Amity prided themselves on keeping their hair as long as possible, and I had been no exception to that... so this feels right.
The Dauntless girls don't have any particular hair trend — Lynn tried to tell me she was just ahead of the game with her shaved head — but already I feel like I fit in more. Plus, out of getting tattoos or piercing my face or this, I'd say this will be the least shocking for my family. Granted, that's if they come.
"It was kind of spur of the moment," I tell her, my nose wrinkling as I regard myself in the mirror. "It doesn't look bad, does it?" Unfortunately, I know I can trust Christina to tell me the truth.
Surprisingly, she shakes her head. "It's different, not bad."
A moment passes us by, and I must look hesitant because she quickly adds on, "Maybe if you style it, it'll feel more natural?"
I frown. "I was never very good with that kind of stuff."
She meets my gaze and smiles. "Well, I grew up with a little sister to experiment on, so I'm kind of a pro." She grabs my arm and pulls me back to her cot, instructing me to sit down while she goes to work.
"Is your family coming, do you think?" I ask her, trying to distract myself from the pain that radiates from my scalp every time she tugs too hard.
"I think so..." she says slowly, like she isn't particularly focused on the question. She tugs again. "I mean, I guess you never know... but I don't see why they wouldn't. I made my choice, and I think they'd be more upset if I had chosen Candor and lived the rest of my life as a lie."
