Authors: Maurice Hill,Michelle Hunt
2014 M.R. Hill and Michelle Hunt
Copyright M.R. Hill Publishing
By Michelle Hunt
Life doesn't suck...it drags and drags on until you die. However, that doesn't mean you should put it to waste. Entertain yourself, have fun, and live life with those who make you happy, not pissed off to the point where you can't stand them.
I'd like to thank M.R. Hill for helping me along with this parody project on one of my favorite series. For while I love Divergent just like I'm sure you do,(or at least most of you do) there's just no way I can ignore the flaws prevalent throughout the series.
Now with that said, due keep in mind that this is only a parody of Divergent, and it's not meant to be taken seriously. I do hope you find yourself not only amused, but entertained. Because at the end of the day, that's all I'm aiming for, entertainment.
If I can put a smile on your face, then I say job well done and forget all of the haters.
Now, I'll quit enhancing the word count on this book and allow you to read(if you haven't already skipped this that is)
Thank you, and kisses hugs, kisses hugs. I love you all, and I'll be back with another parody and an original story of my own along with M.R. Hill.
If you have any criticisms, suggestions, critiques or just want to keep up with my work, please use these following links:
M.R. Hill's a pretty cool guy, and I totally swear that I'm not him. He's a guy, I'm a girl and we write completely different things...
CHAPTER 1: HOW I STOPPED BEING VAIN AND LEARNED TO BE AVIRGENT
I hate my Mom, but I like soooo love my life! There was a single full-body mirror in my single home while my ugly beast of a Mom brushed my single hair. It was behind a sliding trap-door that we slipped past every morning because our faction were vapid idiots.
Hello, my name's Mika Ock, and sometimes I break into the third person. Hooray for inconsistency! I hope that makes sense. Oh well. At least I knew I looked like the hottest bitch around.
“Don't go thinking you're perfect now,” Mom said, as I blew a kiss to my reflection.
She was a woman of 6'4, blonde and and came from the mean-streets of New Jersey(along with the Jersey accent) where all the spoiled ghetto rich kids stole cars from their obscenely expensive neighbors and crashed them because that's what idiot rich kids did in New Jersey. After meeting my lame-ass Father, Mom decided to end her philandering ways and move in to a lame town such as Chicago with him: A place where Human-kind is split up into four factions because apparently, having just one mayor wouldn't do it right. Society messed itself up...only in Chicago. Nowhere else. The rest of the world was zoned off by a fence for reasons unknown.
We had Factions such as: Smart-Ass, Trickers, Rambunctious, Honest, and of course, the foundation that all factions depend on, the ones all factions wish they could be, but couldn't because of how ugly they are: Vain.
My family is part of the vain faction, and despite our transparent personalities, everyone loves us because of how beautiful we seem to be.
In the vain faction, we look out for number one first, because in all honesty, who the Hell is going to watch your back when crap hits the fan? You and you only.
When there's a threat, the only person to look to is yourself and no one else...with the exception of your tablet or smart phone of course.
I looked on my GET-A-Face-LIFE-Book page on my smart-phone and there were several lame Rambunctious boys hitting me up on my smart phone. Rambunctious are a group of people who don't care for keeping things in order. They want chaos and death everywhere they go. Why, I remember one time I was walking down the street, and a rambunctious kid shot another in the face for stepping on his new sneakers. Like, that's
ghetto. No one did anything of course, because no one cares about a kid dying in the projects. The police always came to my faction
. The vain faction.
And part of the vain faction, part of the Ock family(By the way, my name's Mika Ock)
I was the most beautiful girl on the block. In fact, I was so beautiful, a couple of boys from the Honest faction smirked as I walked the streets in my tight shirts and said, “Have a nice day plain Jane!”
I didn't know what a plain Jane was, but I knew it meant something good. There's no way anyone would insult me or the rest of the vains. If they do, they're either just girls who are jealous they can't look like me, or boys pissed off that they can't...
Well...you get the point right? Let's just say I run chills down boy's spines, and goosebumps on girl's skin. When I walk the streets, I make men cream their pants, and women worship at my feet. Hey, that's just the perks of living in vain. But of course, as all vain faction members are, we're constantly arguing over who is the most beautiful, even though the foregone conclusion, the only answer is me. Yet, even with the knowledge that I am indeed the baddest HBIC,
people still can't accept that fact.
“Always remember where you came from. I gave you those looks, and no one else. People ask you at the ceremony why you're so good looking, you say you got these looks from your MILF Mom. Not your lame-ass Dad.”
I looked up from my phone. “Oh please Mom. You're a freakin skeleton. I can see your breasts sagging from behind that sweater. Oh, and is that a wrinkle on your skin? Disgusting.”
“You're a witch.”
“You're a bitch!” I snapped back.
“I taught you well. Go do me proud, and shake your milkshake honey!” She took away the hair iron, other cosmetic tools, and put them in the drawer underneath the mirror.
I shrugged my shoulders. “You're still an old hag. Brother!” I examined myself in the mirror one more time before Mom slid it back into the trap-door. Ugly old snatch is just jealous that I look so good I can stare at myself for hours. Unlike her. The moment she sees the skeleton facade she calls a face, she looks away and cries. Wah, wah, wah. Cry me a river.
My brother, a hot little number himself with sunny blonde hair, and amazing blue eyes came skipping down the stairs in a tight muscle shirt. “What the Hell do you want?”
“Eew! Someone's got an attitude!” I studied his face, and noticed a pimple. “Hah, now I see why! Look Mom, Brother's got a pimple!”
He grunted. “For the last time, it's Joseph! You can at least show me that respect!”
“Why? You're a minor character throughout the rest of this series with barely any impact on the plot. Why should I treat you well, when you'll bare no significance or help me out whatsoever while you're stuck in a faction that gets miniscule screen-time despite being the main villains?”
He nodded. “Fair point. Mom!”
Mom looked up from the dresser. “Yes, son.”
“I have a pimple, do I really need to go to this sorting hat ceremony?”
“It's called the choosing ceremony my dear.”
“Really? Oh, good. For a second, I thought I would find myself in a third rate ripoff of Harry Potter once I get there.”
“Well...you're not too far off the track on that one. But shoot, what you got kid?”
“Oh my God Mom...like, no one ever listens to me. I already told you I have a pimple.
I would use some masking lotion, but it makes a small fraction of my skin darker, and we cant have that in the predominantly Caucasian environment of Chicago where everyone has perfect blonde hair and blue eyes.”
Mom put a finger to her big ugly black hairy mole. I'm surprised she still hadn't got that fixed. It looks so infected. Ugh.
“Yes, you still have to go. Personally, I think it's stupid, in fact, these factions they set up are stupid. Who the Hell thought it was a great idea to band human-kind together through the use of factions that just separates us apart again? Why, I wouldn't be surprised if a war breaks out and I end up shot to death by a minor character.”
I raised my eyeballs to my perfect hairline. “That wouldn't be so bad. All brother and I would need to do is throw Dad off a building and we can finally collect your life-savings.”
“You're cruel...but I love that. Anyway, it's the law.”
Brother's face flushed red. “What law states that I have to go join some stupid faction that will make my life miserable? I
to stay living in vain. I just want to drink beer and get laid!”
“Hey! Watch your tone mister! In fact, I'm sick of you both and your terrible attitude. Why don't you two go on a bus and make fun of ugly people?”
I shared a look with brother. We shrugged and said, “Aight.”
The bus-ride to the choosing ceremony facility was ugly and smelled like feces. There were men and women dressed in last month's clothes and I swear I saw some guy kissing another guy. Eeew. Some girls find that hot, but in vain, we find that disgusting. Like, go jump off of a roof please. Then again, if they were part of the Trickers, that wouldn't be too far from the truth. You see, the Trickers are a faction of idiots who think jumping off of roofs, jumping on trains, getting tattoos,
and playing chicken near train cars makes them brave. Like, hello, that doesn't make you brave. That makes you a freaking idiot.
“Hey yo white girl,” said some ghetto thug dressed in baggy jeans and a sweater. He looked like he came straight out of a 90s rap video.
What. A. Fool. I had no choice but to look up from my phone and amuse him.
And Brother was too busy texting on his cellphone, pretending to text girls on his “GET-A-Face-LIFE-Book” page, when he knows damn well he was texting himself.
The black guy rubbed his hands together and said, “Yo shorty, your face a lil' busted but you got a nice body you know? Wanna hit me up some time, and ride the Ura-Ura train?”
I shook my head. “Sorry, I don't breed with people who don't have atypical European features. Your nose is too wide, so you're out of luck.”
He shot me an angry stare as the bus jostled us, and came up to the choosing ceremony facility. “Whatever, you just another hoe anyway. Ugly vain plain Jane.”
My heart lifted. “Oh gee! Thanks! I love being called that.”
He sucked his teeth and walked down the aisle into another seat.
I turned around to my brother and said, “Oh my God, public transportation stinks. The nerve of low-class citizens. How dare they think they can go out with a Goddess such as I?”
Brother rolled his eyes, and got out of the bus along with me. The sun shone down on our faces, and we walked fast, so as not to get a tan. Tans are so ugly and only makes our perfect white skin darker, which is a no-no. Off in the distance on the right and left side, I saw fences with dark shadows behind them. No one knew what was behind those fences, but whenever we found out, I knew it would be something wonderful.
The choosing ceremony facility was a uh...uh...uh...well, I'm not too sure how to describe, but if I did, I know it'd be half assed and the only way you could get a sense of what it looks like is through your own imagination. So, let's go with that!
Just like how you imagine having a better face when you look in the mirror, you can imagine a choosing ceremony facility on your own. Isn't that great?!
On top of the choosing ceremony facility was a rectangular jumbo tron with our perennial looking old hag Jeanie Wilsar. She had blonde hair, aging lines, and blue eyes. She also had a British accent. I guess that was to make her sound smarter? I don't know. She was talking about stuff I didn't understand or ever cared to understand. All I knew was that she was our Queen.
“What were those rolling eyes for?” I said, suddenly remembering that Brother rolled his eyes before I diverted him.
“You're so vain Mika,” he said, still pretending to text, just as we came up to the building and found ourselves among hundreds of other initiates.
I shrugged. “Well isn't that the point? We're vain dammit!”
“Yeah, but it doesn't need to be that way. I have decided to change my ways, and join a faction that will fit my new attitude. I am now a very happy monk that just wishes to live in peace and tranquility. I shall no longer be an angry vain young man whom wishes to fornicate with girls, but only pleasures himself to those on Tumblr posing nude.”