Divergent Parody: Avirgent (2 page)

I looked up to the ceiling, and back in his face. “Yeah, but that makes no freakin' sense. Just a moment ago you were complaining about your pimple. What are you? Schizophrenic? Bi-polar?”

 “You better get used to it. You're in for one Hell of an inconsistent ride where the plot dictates the characters actions...bitch!”

 He  pulled out a gun, and shot a student behind me. The student fell without anyone noticing, and screamed for his Mommy to change his diaper. He was ugly anyways. So whatevs.

 “I'm officially part of Smart-Ass! Yeah! Screw that we are the world BS!” He threw his hands up in the air.

A man in a suit and black shades walked up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. “Um, yeah...you're a bit early on that. Come back when we need you.”

My brother shrugged and said, “Hasta-la-vista baby! See you in the second half of the book!”

I smiled. “You won't be seeing me! I'll make sure of that!”

 With that, he and the man in shades disappear, as if in thin air, and I almost forget about them...oh, wait? What just happened?

 Oh, yeah, right. Um...so I was on my way to the choosing ceremony. I walked up to the door where the ceremony was taking place, and a Smart-Ass student was in the middle of the door, blocking everyone from getting in. Unlike the other smart-asses, she was actually kind of decent looking. Of course, not as good looking as me. Seriously, hoes need to back off.

I said, “Um, excuse me, I need to like, go into the choosing ceremony for my new faction. Can you get out of the way please?”

She raised a brow. “Can you stop getting plastic surgery and botox at age 16?”

 Everyone around us oohed, as if that was the greatest come-back they ever heard. The laughs settled down to a slight giggle and I narrow my eyes.

 “How dare you?! You're just jealous you can't afford to look like this!”

I brush my hands down over my attire, one that I only wear once a month. I have different clothes for every day of the month, and never wear one more than three times. More than three, and people know you're poor. I was wearing a tight blue turtleneck sweater despite how freaking hot it was outside, blue jeans, and  yellow high heels that were the perfect compliment to my blonde hair.

 The smart-ass girl chuckled. “What? Jealous that I look like a two dollar hooker on a Saturday night at the sunset strip?”

Everyone laughed again. I didn't see what was so funny. What was so funny was how ugly they were. Except for this one very European looking black chick that looked like she could be mixed. She was hot. Probably a vain.

 I looked back into the Smart-Ass' eyes and said, “Listen, I just want to get through.”

She shrugged. “Why do you think I'm here? To share the fresh air with anti-intellectuals and put up with ignorance from some vain who doesn't even look that good? Please.”

I nodded. “First, I DO look that good, and second...Well yeah, sure seems like it you freakin' smart-ass.”

“Thanks.”

 She gave no more replies as everyone walked away. The black chick walked up to me, and she looked hotter up close.

Unlike the other black chicks I met around the block, she wasn't fat or had “curves.” She was perfectly rail thin just as I and the other Vains. No question, she was mixed and the superior genes prevailed. She was wearing a pink blouse, blue jeans and...pink Nike's. Eeew. Well, we can't all be perfect I suppose. Her hair draped down to her shoulders and she was just the perfect shade of tan that I could tolerate.

“You do realize the choosing ceremony is canceled, right?”

I notch a brow. “What?”

“Yeah. That's why she's standing there. In fact...”

She pointed to a sign next to the smart-ass that said, “Choosing Ceremony Canceled in this wing.”

“Sorry,” I said, embarrassed as I should be.

 “Yeah, It's taking place on the other side of the buildings using some other process. Oh yeah, and I wouldn't screw with her. Smart-ass yeah...but I remember seeing that girl take down this jacked up Tricker that looked like the Asian Arnold Schwarzenegger.”

 I chuckled. She was kind of amusing. Her voice was like one I'd find on some black radio station where they played old soul music. She was very chill and serene. Like a Queen. Cool, cool. So chill. I didn't know who Arnold Schwarzenegger was, but I got with it just like I was supposed to go with it. Also, the idea of a jacked up China-man amused me. They were the most Beta of all.

 “That's like, so hilarious. Asian boys with muscles. You're funny. I'm Mika Ock. What's your name?”

She grimaces a bit and then nods.

“Christine.” She winked with her left eye, and snapped her fingers. “Nice to meet ya!”  

She offered her hand, and I shook it accordingly. I then took out my hand sanitizer and wiped myself of whatever germs she could be carrying. Christine didn't seem too fond of this, since she frowned. I didn't see why. I think everyone should carry hand sanitizer. Not even the Vain are immune of disease sadly.

I smile and my heart lifts, knowing that I have not only just made a new friend, but a new black friend. I never had a black friend before. I feel so 22
nd
Century Martin Luther King I have a dream,  now that I have a black friend. A black friend who seems like the token black girl providing me and the rest of my gorgeous white friends with comedic relief and wise advice.

“So, where do we go now?”

She pointed her thumb at the hallway back to us. “Over there and around the corner where everyone's scurrying like rats.  Come on tumbleweed, you can follow me.”

I looked perplexed. “Tumbleweed? What the Hell?”

She chuckled. “It's something I call everyone new I meet. Don't take it as an insult. It's just my thing, cool? Come on, tell me about yourself. You're obviously a vain, what else do you like to do?”

We started walking down the hallway, and I searched the back of my head for my main hobbies. I smiled, and knew Christine would be impressed.

“Oh my God! I love going shopping for new clothes everyday, because you can't wear the same outfit more than three times! That's a general rule for vains!”

She nodded. “Mhm.”

“I...” I put my finger to my chin, and then snapped my fingers.

 “I love to watch reality TV, update my status on my GET-A-Face-LIFE-Book page, eat then then throw up-”

“What?!” Her voice was almost a yell, sending other people to throw looks our way.

“Yeah? What's the problem?”

She shook her head. “Throwing up your food. That's a
big
problem. What's wrong with you?”

I shrugged. “Nothing. It's very normal. I thought
you
did it with how thin you are.”

“I'm thin because I have an ultra-high metabolism. The doctors diagnosed it when I was a little kid. My parents always wondered why I could eat five pizzas in a row and never get as big as them. But specifics and titles aside, all that means is I take a shit in the toilet quick. A huge one. Sometimes it has hair attached to it.”

“Eeew. Why are you telling me this?”

She snorted. “My mistake tumbleweed. I just needed to let you know not everyone thin retches their food. But I gotta tell you, it feels like a huge weight lifted off of my shoulders. Like I'm a bird that broke free of its shackles and I can fly again. Hah.”

“Well, I'd rather not sit on the toilet. It's disgusting. Throwing up is better.”

“No, taking a shit is normal. And we have a word for your problem, and it's called anorexia.”

I rolled my eyes. “Please, I am NOT an anorexic.”

She chuckled. “The first thing people like you do is deny, deny, and deny. Just accept it, face the problem, and find the solution.”

I frown as we stop in front of the new choosing ceremony facility. There were at least ten doors stretching down this other hallway and hundreds of children with us waiting in line to choose their faction.

 I leer at Christine.

“What?” she says, folding her arms, raising a brow.

 “You know what? I don't like you all of a sudden. In fact, I think you better go into another line, and it's a shame that no matter how far you are away from me, you're still breathing the same air as I.”

 She guffawed. “Girl, come on. I'm only-I'm only trying to help you out, cause from what I'm hearing, you ain't living. You're just existing. And that's the worst type of life. Why revel in the materialistic when you can learn things and see beyond the BS?”

I shrugged. “What's wrong with being vain? Don't hate me because I'm beautiful.”

 She shook her head lightly and looked down the row of initiates. “Listen tumbleweed, it was nice meeting you, but my Mom always told me it's nice to learn things and investigate instead of accepting what's at face value. Hey, maybe it's cause my parents are teachers. So I got that one step ahead of others. All I know is, existing and letting the world pass you by isn't the way to live. No offense, but looking at you, hearing what you have to say, the only future in your cards is being a trophy wife to some douche-bag football player that cheats on you every night because you're no longer the flavor of the month he loves to dip in.”

“Hey! What makes you think you can say that? Bitch!”

She shrugged. “People were always saying how honest I was...but I was raised in the rambunctious faction.”

“I thought your parents were teachers? Are you sure you're not part of smart-ass?”

She grinned. “My parents' parents were rambunctious, and girl you better believe it's a war every Easter, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year's.” She swung her fists like a boxer.

“What about Kwanzaa?”

“Huh?!”

“You heard me. What about Kwanzaa? Isn't that the black Hanukah?”

 Christine looked to the floor with a confused frown and back up at me. “Have a nice day Mika. You've got a Hell of a lot to learn about the world. Good luck tumbleweed.”

She waved and left me there helpless and feeling like a piece of crap.

I hung my head in shame and found that the floor was a mirror. I saw my reflection and instantly smiled.

She was just jealous that I'm better looking than her.

“Attention! Attention!” shouted some robotic voice from above. It sounded old and squeaky, like metal clashing against metal. “Mika Ock, please make your way to the front of the line for your personal ceremony test. Or else, you will be executed.”

 ---

Scared from the obvious cliffhanger, and since I obviously didn't want to die, I pushed everyone out of the way as I moved to the front of the line, and some tall Asian woman(also with strong European facial features) wearing tattoos on her neck and a lab coat, burst out of the door in front of me and said, “Hey, what's up?” she gave a light cough. Her voice sounded dull and bored.

I shrugged. “Um, your eyes?”

“No, they're slanted. What's up is your bitchy attitude, and the fact that you-cough! Cough!- have to take some test to determine which faction you're supposed to be in.”

 “Why does everyone think I'm bitchy?”

“Cause you're a typical idiotic YA heroine. What else?” Her cough escalated.

“Are you okay Doc?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just fine.” She cleared her throat. “Just trust me.”

I tipped my head from side to side. “Okay Doc. I trust you. You Asians are pretty smart.”

“Actually, I have a terrible GPA. The only reason why I'm here is because I jumped off of a building and landed on solid ground perfectly.”

“So you're a Tricker?”

“Yeah. I'm a freakin' idiot. Hey, get the Hell in the room so we can get this over with.”

 So we got in the room and there were mirrors everywhere. I jumped in glee and couldn't

contain my happiness. I felt like a kid in a candy store when I ran to every mirror laid on the walls and examined myself.

“Geez!” yelled the Asian lady, pulling up some seat that looked like it came out of a Syfy movie. There was a metal helmet above the seat, making the seat look like an electric chair.

“Sit down. We don't got much time. I want to go back home and slit my wrists, but not to kill myself, but because I think that's badass if I do that and survive.”

“Okay, okay.” I sat down in the seat, even though I was shaking like Hell. “Is this going to kill me?”

She smiled. “Not unless you want it to. You'll be experiencing something like a dream or a nightmare even. It'll feel like the first time you had sex.”

I raised my brow. “Really? So something's going to impale me down there?”

She coughed and sighed. “You know what I mean, it's going to be scary, but at the end, you're going to love it, and want to do it all the time.”

“Oh boy, I hope so.” I said, my voice straining.

She took out a notepad and said, “Okay, what race are you?”

“The master race, white.”

She looked up at me from her notepad. “Really? The master race?”

I shrugged. “Well yeah. We get all the perks. Everyone loves us. Among the vains, the whites are the most praised.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh boy. I hope you get punched in the face one day.”

“Why?”

“Because that's not cool to-you know what? Screw this.” She threw away the notepad. “Time to take your test bitch.” She put the metal helmet on my head and I felt electricity surging throughout my body. “Aaaaaah!” I yelled.

“This isn't even the worst of it!” She screamed above my pleas.

“Aaaaaah!”

 My eyes closed shut uncontrollably, and I opened them back up. Suddenly, I wasn't in the room with the Asian lady and the mirrors were of course gone as well.

 I found myself in a blank white space. I wouldn't even describe it as a room.

It was just an empty blank white space.

“Like your head,” said some old wrinkly woman in front of me wearing a lab coat.

She was holding a basket with a knife and bread.

“Choose. Knife, or bread?”

“Why?”

She sighed. “Just choose, I don't have the rest of my life.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, obviously. You look like you're about to keel over any second.”