𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑. ❨ DIVERGENT ❩

03 - NO GOING BACK

BREAKFAST WITH MARCUS WASN'T EXACTLY WHAT I HAD IN MIND TO START OFF CHOOSING DAY.

Though I had the luxury of solitude as I got myself ready for the morning, the sight of Marcus running around the kitchen as he prepared breakfast; a sight that was as rare as the unlikely event of my mother coming back from the dead.

His face was clean, hair brushed back as his slate colored clothes were as neat as they could look despite the wrinkles on them. Gritting my teeth as he placed the plates on the table, I chose that moment to make my presence known just as he turned to the stairs.

"Ah, Elle, there you are!"

His huge smile directed at me was unsettling, similar to what I had felt as a child when I knew I was to be reprimanded, not with chastising words but, with his signature and most favorite punishment for me, the hot poker hidden behind the cabinets of the living room.

Even my brother, who did everything he could to make sure Marcus' anger and abuse wasn't directed at me, couldn't save me from the painful burning and the sound of skin sizzling against the searing metal. Long, burn marks alongside circular ones were what marked my arms, forever branding me as bearer of Marcus' insatiable anger.

"Come sit, Elle." His voice was welcoming; an impressively believable mask of who he really was. I didn't bother to hesitate, striding with purpose toward the only free seat across the table from his. Pushing it forward, I let my hands fall on my lap, clutched together to grip some semblance of sanity over this whole scene.

A plate full of smoking chicken breast, green peas, and bread was set in front of me; it was tasteless and unappetizing. But, it kept my stomach full so I really wasn't in any position to complain. Besides, today would be the last I'd be having this meal on a plate, anyway.

We relatively ate in silence, however, I could see Marcus peering at me from under his lashes; thinking I couldn't notice despite not looking back at him. I've always been aware whenever his cold eyes laid on me, a sixth sense I wish I didn't have, but developed unknowingly.

"I'm sure you're quite excited for today." His attempt to make conversation was feeble, the tone of his voice pressing for me to do anything. To give away something. But, I haven't given him the satisfaction of being able to see through me in a long time. And I wouldn't give up now.

"We never really did get to discuss your results last night." He probed some more, eating now set aside as he placed down his silverware and pressed his hands flat against the table, finger tapping on the wood. I simply resumed eating, not that interested with this show he was putting on. Was this supposed to appease me? To coax me into spilling my blood for Abnegation when it was turn to choose? To stay here with him?

He pursed his lips, smile slowly disappearing as he huffed at my silence. As though I hadn't subjected myself to years of silence since the incident.

"Later on... is your choice made up?"

I shrugged, feigning disinterest with my body language as the rest of the plain chicken disappeared from my plate. If I had been the me from ten years ago, I would have been trembling in my spot; unable to resist the command to yield, to give up all of my thoughts to him. To let him know of my desires to get the fuck away from him.

"Well, I do hope you make the right choice. You are a daughter of Abnegation, after all. This is the only place you'll ever fully belong, Elle." His words, meant to sound as though he was passing me some wisdom, sounded like bullshit coming from his mouth.

I merely nodded, standing up with my empty plate on hand before placing it in the sink. He signaled me to leave it be; he would be the one to do it, he said. My feet led me to the stairs once again, up and at them as they only stopped once I was settled back in my room.