Divergent Parody: Avirgent (3 page)

 She sighed. “Yeah, and my va-jay-jay is dusty instead of the one made of Gold like yours. Yadda, yadda, yadda, another stupid comeback that's not funny from you. Yadda, more bullcrap. Come on!” She yelled. “Get on with it! Knife, or bread?!”

 I shrugged. “Well, considering I don't like to eat, I'd take the knife, but...Christine gave me a lot to think about. So...well,
no
. I don't think I'd take either. I mean, I hate knives. Whenever  I touch one they prick my skin and give me this ugly black scab that completely ruins my shiny white complexion. Whenever I eat a piece of bread I gain 1% body fat. That is a no, no for not only the Ock family but the entire Vain faction.”

The old shriveled up piece of life that called herself a woman said, “You'll take neither? Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

She giggled like a little school girl who just saw her little brother step on a turd.

“This is going to be good.” She looked up to the sky. “Get the popcorn ready guys! We're gonna see quite the show!”

“What show?”

She smirked. “The show you're apart of you vain bitch! See you in the grave!”

She teleports out of the room like she were a ghost and I hear growling behind me, heavy breaths like a dog or a...

 I turn around and see a freaking lion drooling, snarling, and for the first time in several days, I took a shit. Except this time it was in my pants.

The lion knelt on its legs and said, “Excuse me madam.” He had a deep British accent.

 I hugged myself tight, in fear. “Yes?”

 “I do believe this is the part where you're supposed to run and provide cheap suspense and entertainment for the reader. You know, to make them think you're about to die when it's obvious you're not because this is written in first person and there won't be two POV's until the third book.”

“Oh, okay. So, do I jog, sprint or run?”

He sighed. “You
run.”

“
Oh okay. Do I scream?”

“Yes. Damsel in distresses always scream and get picked up by Prince Charming.”

“So there will be a prince at the end of this?” I said, putting my hands up in prayer.

“We'll see. For now, I just want to eat you out-I mean, I just want to eat your entrails out.”

I screamed just as he wanted me to, and he chased after me. I felt his breath hiss at me every five seconds or so while I flapped my arms back and forth like some ragdoll flailing in the sky. Oh jeez, I hope I don't look ugly. That would suck to die ugly. If I die, I would at least love to die still beautiful and screw-able.

 “Help me! Help me! A lion's chasing me for no damn reason other than just because!”

“I'll help you!” said the same man in the black suit earlier. I had forgotten about him like I usually forget about minor characters.

He held my hand while running and we found ourselves on a city bus. It was dirty, grimy, and had potato chip bags sprawled across the walkway.

“Gee, thanks for saving me mysterious creepy black suit and tie guy. What's your name?”

“Mr. Raper.”

I nodded slowly and backed away. “Okay, do your actions match your name?”

He looked down at me, taking out a newspaper and putting on thick-rimmed glasses.

“Do you know this man?”

“Huh?”

“I said do you know this man?”

He flipped the Newspaper over and showed me a picture of a man in drag-clothes, pushing two little people in a shopping cart with his mouth open in amusement.

“Eeew. God no.”

“You lie.”

“No.”

“Yes you do.”

 “How could you know? I'm telling you the truth! I may be a transparent idiot, but I am telling you the God's honest truth.” I folded my arms. “Take me off this bus you creepy psycho!”

He leers down at me and narrows his brows. “Exactly. How do I know you're not lying?! You're a liar, and always have been. Liar, liar, pants on fire!”

“What are you, three years old?!”

He took out a knife and started slashing it in my direction, his face was flushed with red. “Liar! Liar!”

“Aaaaaah!” I screamed, and closed my eyes hoping it were all a dream that would go away. I opened them back up again and tried falling back to dodge the blade but found myself back in the strange chair staring up at the same Asian lady from earlier.

“Oh, hello there,” she said with the same dull tone.

She was plain faced and brought up a clipboard to her eyes, examining what was on it.

“Welcome back...my little vain Klansman. I have the results to your test.”

I turn my blue eyes into huge round blue orbs. Whatever that means. Basically, I opened my eyes wide.  “You mean that whole scenario
wasn't
a marijuana induced simulation? That was my test?”

 She checked off a box or two from behind her clipboard on the paper and nodded. “Oh don't mistake it one bit, we used marijuana for sure. That's the only way to put you in a simulation. Much like the only way to kill you is to use a death serum. Besides that-”

“Wait, how do you view the simulations if it's all in my head?”

 She pointed at my helmet with her pencil dully. “See that? It's called a dream-catcher. Don't put me on blast kid, I never came up with that cheesy name. Anyway, the results are as follows: You didn't choose either the knife or the bread. Either one would have helped you out with the lion.”

“How?”

“Well, you could have killed the lion with the knife, or used the bread to feed him.”

 I shrugged. “But that makes no sense. Wouldn't the lion want me more because I'm meat?”

She sucked her teeth. “Like I said before, don't put me on blast because of  my superiors' incompetence. Or the author's for that matter. Just go along with it.”

 She sighed, and flipped a paper over. “So that checks off smart-ass for you. As for the lion itself, at least you didn't recklessly try to fight it and get your ass torn apart. So thankfully, that puts you out of rambunctious. Running from the lion and still wondering whether you looked good or not keeps you in favor of Vain. I bet you're happy about that. Telling Mr. Raper you didn't know the man checks you off of Honest.”

“What?! I never saw that guy before in my life! How can you say I'm lying?”

“According to your brain-scan, you DID see that man before...on a subway ad for the new TV show,  
America's next top Drag Queen
.” She looked up from her clip-board, smirking.  “By the way, as a vain I'm surprised you don't watch it.”

“My parents and I hate people that are not like us. What else is there to explain?”

“Let me guess, you even call the cops when you see a black man walking around your neighborhood?”

“Yeah, of course. They don't belong in our neighborhood. There are barely any blacks in Vain, but the ones who are, are on the European-”

 She put a hand up for silence. “Enough. I'm disgusted.” She looked back down at the clipboard. “Standing up to him at least puts you in with us Trickers...I
suppose
.”

“Oh Great. I'll stay with Vain. I love looking in the mirror.”

She smirked. “Now it's time for the swerve that will make you piss your pants. Want to hear what you actually scored?”
“What? I thought you said I had two choices?”

“You don't have two choices. Hell, you can't even choose your old faction. You know what those two results together gave you?”

“What?”

“Avirgent.”

That sounded like I was a virgin but that wasn't possible.

“Well, excuse me mam, but trust me I am
not
a virgin. I have had my fair share of men in my bed, and that does not make me a slut by the way.”

She smirked and put the clipboard down. She took off her lab-coat and changed into her biker clothes. She had tattoos all over her body just as she took all her lab clothes off and put the biker ones on. She also had a big butt and breasts. Eeew. Disgusting. Way too much body fat.

 While she put her bra on she said, “Yeah, I bet that hole down there is like throwing a hotdog down a hallway huh?”

She chuckled and I didn't see the joke. “Um, what's so funny?”

She shook her head. “Your empty shallow head. Listen-” she wrapped herself in her jacket and zipped up, letting her hair fall to her shoulders. “Avirgent doesn't mean you're a virgin. It just means that you're a combination of two or more factions even when it doesn't make sense or fit your personality to be so. However, our lovely dictator of the Smart-Ass faction hates Avirgents, and wants them all executed. So, don't tell anyone you're Avirgent please. Being Avirgent is dangerous.”

“Why? Why is it so harmful? Why would she hate me for being Avirgent?”

She shrugged. “I don't know, or give a shit really.” She flicked a cigarette from her breast pocket, and a lighter. “Want one?”

“No thanks. I heard it's like anti-aging cream. Except it ages you further instead of never aging you at all.”

She sucked her teeth. “Figures. Everyone believe the rumors, but never tries it for themselves.”

 “That sounds like an endorsement for smoking.”

She coughed and blew away cigarette smoke.

I scoffed. “Now I know why you cough all the time. You should get that checked out. As empty my head is, at least  I know that.”

 She inhaled her cigarette, and exhaled a cloud of smoke, like a fog. “Whatever. Quit judging my life, and asking me questions. I don't see you asking questions as to why I'm hiding your test results even though I hate you and my bosses can hear me.”

“Yeah, why are you doing that? Can't your bosses hear you?”

“My bosses can't hear me. I turned the switch off. Hopefully I don't lose my job. Plus, you're just a kid. I'll chalk your blatant racism and ignorance down to your terrible parents, spoiled upbringing, and idiotic faction.”

 I turned my head to a mirror and I looked like some old woman in a wheelchair, with baggy eyes. I so needed to wash my face. I looked back to her as she looked like she was drowning in a large fog of smoke.

She inhaled and her cigarette butt lit up orange within the smoke. Like a monster with bright eyes rising out of an ocean. Bad comparison that doesn't make sense, but then again, neither does our society.

 “So what do I do now?” I said, scared for my life. “If there's people out to get me?” My heart beat in my chest harder than my last boyfriends'...nevermind.

The Asian lady put her hair back in a bun and took a helmet from a closet next to her.

 “Well, you only have one choice: Join my brother and sisters in Trickers. You can't stay with your old faction after-all. That's all I gotta say so...I'm out.”

She started going for the door. “Wait!”

“What?!” she said, frowning, sighing.

“Aren't you going to take me out of this seat?”

“Oh yeah.”

She un-strapped my straps and told me, “Listen kid, keep your freakin' mouth shut, and do whatever you need to do to survive in Trickers. 'Cause I ain't gonna be there to help you, and neither will your Moms, pops and whoever else you care about. This is real shit. You tell someone, you're fucking dead. Oh yeah, and I was just lying about that, 'it'll feel like sex', thing. They tell us to say that so you'll comply.”

She helped me out of the seat and I massaged my wrists and my head. I looked in the mirror and examined myself more. “Oh God, my hair is so tangled. My Mom just did it this morning.” I was repositioning my epic hair.

The Asian lady walked up to the mirror and looked down at my reflection. “If I were you, I'd quit worrying 'bout my aesthetics, and learn to be Avirgent.”

“What the Hell does that mean? Learning to be Avirgent?”

She inhaled and exhaled. And even sighed somehow when the cloud of smoke burst out of her mouth and floated in the air to the mirror in front of me.

“I don't know, I just said that cause it ties in with the chapter title. See you in a couple of chapters. Oh yeah, and you smell like shit.”

She walks out, leaving me there to wonder not only why she left when there's thousands of other initiates, but exactly why I am Avirgent...and what the Hell makes it so dangerous.

 
CHAPTER 2: GO JUMP OFF A ROOF

 “We're going to go jump off of a roof because that makes us badass! Yeah!”

Shouted one of the senior Trickers raising his fists along with the other seniors. His name was Noah and he had spiky red hair like flames.

 They stood near the edge of the roof with the wind nipping at our clothes, and snapping their biker jackets back and forth.

The rest of us stood in terror, our bodies shaking. Not just because of our fear but because of how cold it suddenly became. I had found use for my sweater but they made us dress in tight short-shorts, and t-shirts. Because dressing light in frozen weather makes you badass apparently. But they were wearing warm clothing and a biker jacket. Assholes.

 One kid with glasses raises his hand. Noah yelled, “You there nerdy looking beta! Yeah, what the Hell do you want?!”

 “Um...um..how does jumping off of a roof make us brave? Or badass...or dauntless? I mean, that makes no freakin-”

“Someone grab him up, and make him jump off of the fucking roof!”

“Yeah!” shouted the senior Trickers.

“No! No! I don't want to! I'm going to die!”

“Well what a way to go out then I say! But don't worry, you're not going to die because there's a cushion beneath. You'll live.”

“Really?”

“Hell no. There's solid ground and man-eating Scorpions.”

My face turned red. How the Hell did they survive that before?

“The scorpions only makes it more badass. Only true Trickers can be called Trickers if they conjure up enough mental will-power to survive a 100 foot drop.”

 The kid in the glasses shook his head as some of the students cried for him.

“I don't know man. That sounds like bunk to me. Willpower all you want, man cannot fall 100 feet off of a roof and-”

They threw him off the roof and we heard his screams until they trailed away just as him. Soon, there was a thick thud.