Being factionless is made to sound like hell to those "lucky" enough to have been born into one. I often laugh at the thought of something cringing at the mere thought of living as we do. As though there's nothing but poverty and dirt to our names. I suppose that's their fault too, we Fractured lacking the bare necessities.

Even though sometimes I wonder what it's like to be in a faction, my family always reminds me why I'd hate it in the end.

My family of those who couldn't choose, those who failed their initiations, and those who were disgraced from the fragile factions we Fractured work to uphold. I've been confronted with the realization that I'm at the bottom of the food chain purely because I am factionless.

In my opinion, there should be a faction for people like us. For the people who can't choose just one faction because in their minds, being one thing for the rest of their lives is the real hell on Earth. It doesn't make any sense to me how someone can grow up learning to be one thing, to do one thing, for the rest of their lives realistically. (even though some change factions later)

Unlike them, I don't have a choice because of who -- what my parents are. For the rest of my life, I'm supposed to live in the outskirts of the city, a place riddled with horrible living conditions and barely clean tap water. And the only help I will be given is the "selfless" charity from Abnegation.

Even if the Fractured seem weak, the unofficial name of the factionless alone, suggests that we aren't capable. That without a faction, we are but broken shells of the people we could have been if we'd followed the rules. Despite that, the hardships we endure every single day have made us as a whole as tough as nails.

I know no faction and never will, my loyalty is not bound by my personality; it's bound by my blood and my bonds I've made with others... or at least, I thought it was.

—

After the Candor woman leaves, my family leaves me to think. Or, more accurately, my mother forces everyone to leave me alone for the remainder of the evening. I don't thank her, but I'm glad she did that. Tamino looked at me with what I would say was betrayal... probably because I didn't outright refuse the offer.

How could I? I won't lie, it's an amazing offer. The money is what interests me the most. Maybe if I say I did it for the money, then Tammi won't hate me for leaving? "No," I shake my head, "I can't let someone else's reaction be why I make the decision..." Still, the thought of hurting Tammi makes me even more unsure.

My hands are fidgeting, I can't help it. It's always helped me calm down when stressed out, moving my hands. I push back my cuticles, rub my fingertips together, cradle each hand with the other... but nothing helps ease my anxieties about the offer.

Now that I've been given the chance to... do something with myself instead of being pitied by the Abnegation for the rest of my life... I don't know how to think.

Every day for the past fifteen and a half years, I've been lowering my expectations; I never let myself hope for anything because I knew (and still know now) that I'd only end up disappointed again.

Another sigh leaves my lips as I fall backward to lay on my bed. My legs hang awkwardly off the side of it as I stare up at the ceiling. The attic feels strange without Ada making noise to fill the void of being alone so often... and yet, I'm still glad to be alone right now. I bet that if Tammi was up here, I'd be crying into his shoulder.

My twin, my brother, my best friend. I'd have to leave him behind, David and Ada too... my aunts, my parents... I can't imagine us without me even if it sounds selfish to think that.

The weathered posters nailed into the roof are yellow and ripped all over, but they cover up the wood behind them. I can hardly see what the posters used to say because of the roof leaking, but I remember what some of them say.

A vintage soda poster stares down at me, the colors are bleached but the outline of the can is still visible. Beside it is a large family portrait Tammi and I made when we were young, the crayons somehow fought against being desaturated over the years. He's always been better at drawing, I've always been good at coloring inside the lines.

My mother's hair isn't covered in a hijab and my father's face looks younger. Aunt Enola's kissing Aunt Marigold's cheek and a large smile decorates her face. Tammi drew me as taller than him, because at the time, it was true. But now he's almost six inches taller than I am... our growth spurts came along at the same time, only I was stunted at five feet, five inches... Tammi however, well he hasn't stopped growing since then.

I've always liked the picture, it reminds me of quieter times. The nature of it is so innocent, so sweet, before the spoils of life made me rotten with contempt. I don't often think of how angry I've gotten in the past few years, I guess dealing with the very people that have condemned my family and I to live like this has made me begin to hate them and their factions.

The sound of the front door closing makes me sit up, dad must be leaving. My wrist watch says it's nearly ten at night which surprises me. It felt like three minutes and it's been almost five hours since my mom gave me space to think.

I roll my eyes and sigh again, guess I could get some work out the way. I know I won't be able to sleep any time soon. My bag is sitting beside the hole in the floor that leads down into the hallway. Tammi must have sat it there while I was overthinking everything. The weight of it doesn't bother me anymore, I go toward the small "desk" positioned in the corner and get to work.

By the time I'm done with the papers, my stomach has been aching for a while now. I climb down the ladder as quietly as possible and walk into the kitchen, my shoeless feet only causing the floorboards to squeak now and again. The lights are off and the curtains are drawn shut, but there's light peeking through the curtain.

I push the curtain to the side and find that the Erudite headquarters has its lights on. "Weird," I mumble quietly before turning back toward the kitchen. Tammi's leaning on the wall, his clothes too big and his eyes sad as always. "Hey, Amir," We often refer to each other by our second name, we don't have last names so our parents gave us two names.

Rita Rose and Tamino Amir, twins who definitely aren't identical.

"Don't you work tomorrow?" He asks while rubbing his eyes.

"It's Saturday tomorrow," I open the oven to find a plate with a cover on it, bless my mom. "What was for dinner?"

Tammi actually smiles, "Your favorite," I find myself beginning to grin as I reveal the fried chicken and red sauce on rice. None of it's "real", the Fractured never get genuine food. It's either nothing at all or lab-made meals.

Even though the food is probably cold, I bring it near my face and smell the sauce. Somehow, my mom always made this processed crap taste amazing. "Want some? I'm not too hungry," I question as I grab a spoon from the drawer. Tammi shrugs, "Please? You can tell me what's wrong while enjoying ma's cooking," I hold the plate up with a smile.

Tammi sighs and grabs the spoon I offer him, we sit at the table with the plate between us. "Ma really wants you to take the offer, Rose." He sounds sad... but then again he always sounds a bit down.

I glance down at the table and nod, "I know," The chicken isn't very good, but the rice and sauce make it amazing. "I don't know what I should do... the money makes it so... tempting." I chew on my lip for a moment and take another bite of the food. "But I don't wanna leave you guys."

"I don't know how to... explain it without sounding selfish." Tammi laughs dryly at himself and the sound makes my eyes water.

He hasn't even said the words and I already know what he's going to say... "The last thing I want is to leave you, Tammi... we've always had us. And I can't imagine leaving you behind for... the one thing I hate."

Our matching brown eyes meet as he gives me a small smile, "Thought I was the emotional one, sis?" Tamino says quietly, but I can hear the heaviness behind his voice.

I shake my head at him, "Don't remind me." I wipe the tears away from my eyes, "Promise if I leave you'll be okay?"

"Promise the same and I will be."

"I promise we'll be okay, no matter what." My words don't feel honest, but I ignore the thought as I lean my head on his shoulder. Silence falls over us as we both think and eat... I have no idea what I'm going to do, but for some reason, I know that no matter what I choose, it won't end well.