KARMA (Eric x oc Divergent.)

'brave, fearless'

My life has always been something short of a train wreck.

Being in Abnigation seemed easy. The morals, unlike the other factions where more self improvement. Rather then the faction where you kill.

But even there, my life seems like a field of fucking Dasies.

Meeting Eric was something short of a Stick being Thrown up my ass. Uncomfortable, unwanted. But sure as hell hard to get Rid off.

Everything Abnigation was, I was the opposite.

I struggled with the straightforward concepts We as a whole stood for. I never understood why I had to break my back, passing out food to The factionless. Or why I had to carry heavy bags of belongings into someone else's home. It made just amount of sense as a cat Fucking a dog.

It just didn't sit right with me.

But For Brain it has always been easie. Rejecting vanity seemed to be as effortless as taking a breath. Maybe he only did it to kiss up the asses of the higher ups. Hoping to gain even more attention. If that was even possible.

If he was a planet. He would be the sun. Most fucking viewed. More loved too.

I would be the moon. Neglected. No one stays up late to gaze at it like the other factions do with the sun. No one smiles, and kisses there partner on there wedding day under it's watchful Gaze.

The moon just doesn't matter to them.

I in a sense, am the moon.

at one point of my life I used to evny him. I used to question how my own twin brother found it easier than me? Now, I've accepted the reminder. Even embraced it the closer I've come to my eighteenth birthday.

Only when I get to change Factions. To a place that isn't half as Horrible. As Soul sucking as this one is. But maybe that's because My family is here. Surrounding me every chance they get like the vultures they are. Like I could fuck up at any moment.

My mother glanced over my features, studying me from across the bathroom. The air in here has always been more thicker, heavier almost. Her eyes, hardened and filled with Questions seem to weigh it down even more as she grips the Brush around her Skinng fingers.

"Are you nervous?"

She stood behind me. Looking into the now un-covered mirror as she twists each strand into a Bun. "No." I raised a brow. Fighting a smile as I rolled my shoulders back, working the uncomfortablenot not in my kneck . "Are you?"

My mother sighed, prows dipping. Ageing her even more as she clipped the bun into place. Before taking one last, long meaning full look into the mirror. Soaking in every minute. We looked different, me and my mom standing side by side. I didn't resemble my father either and just barley my brother. We share a nose, that's it.

I have dark black hair. Darker and duller then the vibrant Golden colour of my family. It reminds me of Wheat, the way it Darknes in the summer soaked Months.

"Yes." She whispered. Placing the brush in the cabinet before sliding it closed with it's wooden cover.

I tisk. Hating the rule. Only to get a hard smack to my shoulder. "Rules are rules."

"It doesn't mean I have to agree with them." I hissed. "No one could possibly know if we looked one second longer in a mirror." it wasn't as if they had a camera imbedded inside, checking off a list of things we did proper and not.

"I know." Her eyes hardened as she squeezed my shoulder. "But Elizabeth, for crying out loud please for once don't question the rules." Her eyes gloss over before she sniffles re-collecting herself after a long quiet moment.