And I'm the kind of person who does not let inconsequential things like boys and near death experiences stop her.

You're the one who has to live with your choice, everyone else will get over it, move on, no matter what you decide. But you never will

I have done bad things. I can't take them back, and they are part of who I am. Most of the time, they seem like the only thing I am.

This was the first place I everfelt strong. Every time I breathe this air I feel it again.

She walks away, and I am too stunned to follow her. At the end of the hallways she turns and says, "Have a piece of cake for me, all right? The chocolate. It's delicious." She smiles a strange, twisted smile, and adds," I love you, you know." And then she's gone. I stand alone in the blue light coming from the lamp above me, and I understand: She has been to the compound before. She remembered this hallways. She knows about the initiation process. My mother was a dauntless.

I have to face the fear. I have to take control of the situation and find a way to make it less frightening.

For God's sake, Stiff," he says. "You don't have to follow me," I say staring at the maze of bars above me. I shove my foot onto the place where two bars cross and push myself up, grabbing another bar in the process. I sway for a second, my heart beating so hard I can't feel anything else. Every thought I have condenses into that heartbeat, moving at the same rhythm. "Yes, I do," he says.