Chapter 1
Chapter 1
Guilt was something that plagued her mind every single day. An hour wouldn’t go by without feeling the need to burst into tears. She struggled with a simple job, working as a librarian. She thought by surrounding herself with fictional books, she could forget, and trap herself within a world that wasn’t the one she was used to- black and white. All colours had left her. She also struggled with simple daily tasks, like cleaning her constantly her messy house, or walking the supermarket to buy food, that she probably wouldn’t even eat. Hunger, and sleep had left her conscious state, but she no longer feared for herself. She didn’t feel much anymore, apart from self hatred, self pity, and guilt. There was simply no other way to express it- Mikasa Ackerman felt guilty, for causing the death of her friends and fellow classmates.
It had happened years ago; almost too many. Seven long, lonely years Mikasa had suffered with many a things; depression, anxiety, PTSD. She could barely cope on her own, and whilst the thought of having someone there to comfort her sounded nice, she shut anyone out before they got too close. Letting people in would cause them hurt, maybe cause her hurt too. Mikasa was worried that they would leave her, like everyone else in her life had. While she tried not to feel bad for herself, she sometimes couldn’t help it. She indulged herself in self pity every once in a while, knowing no one but herself would judge her for it, for they could not see it.
Mikasa rarely left the apartment, aside from her job and the occasional needed shopping trip. She owned black out curtains, only to open when it rained, or when that blue tit came and sung to her. There were only a few things in life she enjoyed; those were two of them. Although her job was kind to her, it took a toll on her. How horrible her life was, stressing over why there was an ‘A’ book in the ‘S’ section. Sometimes, she swore someone did this on purpose to mess with her mind. She would spend hours and hours, working late into the night just tidying the book, putting them in their correct places. It occupied her mind for a while, so her tiring arms and late night walks back never seemed to bother her much.
One thing that seemed to bother her though, was seeing other people happy. She hated herself for it, but she cursed everyone who had happiness in their life. These were selfish thoughts, but she didn’t care. When she walked down the street, and saw a couple holding hands, or a group of girls laughing and talking, she often wondered why her life had been doomed to fall into a pit of despair. She pondered why people didn’t stay.
Two of her closest friends, Eren Jaeger and Armin Alert, left her side when she was 16 years of age. She knew why, and she also knew she deserved it, but still couldn’t help wanting them to stay, to hug her, and tell her everything would be okay, even if she knew it wouldn’t be. Mikasa lost all contact with them as soon as she graduated. She had no clue whether they were alive or dead. A very, very small part of her never wanted to see them again, but the biggest part of her wanted to see them standing at her apartment door, wanting to start everything over. Mikasa wanted to let them know she still cared about them, and that if she could be there with them, she would. When she used to hang around with them at school, in a funny way, she felt like a third wheel. Neither Eren nor Armin was gay, but they constantly acted like it, always flirting with each other. Mikasa found amusement out of this, so they continued. They were always making her laugh, and that was some of the best memories she kept with her.
Another thing that bugged her about her loss of friendship with Eren was that it was only until afterwards, after she lost him, that she finally recognized her true feelings for him. She loved him. And she never had the chance to tell him, before it was too late. Mikasa had always felt affection for Eren, but chose to ignore it, in fear of losing whatever they already. That she did not know, and probably never will. Mikasa was pretty sure her love was unrequited, but little things Eren did here and there, made her question her thoughts a lot. Armin had recognized that Mikasa had a crush on Eren, but after a stern talking to, he reluctantly promised not say anything to Eren. She pondered if Armin had ever told Eren. Perhaps he told him then, maybe now. Mikasa unraveled in the thought that she would most likely never get any answers to her ever growing list of questions.
Armin was also a huge part of her life. Although he was closer to Eren than he was Mikasa, she never forgot the things he did for her. Her mind kept memories of his straight blonde bob, his cute little smile, and his vibrant ocean eyes. He helped her with studying, helping her write papers the night before they were due, just little things that Mikasa couldn’t help forget. She also remembered he was a huge bookworm, and queried to herself if he would like the library she worked in. Mikasa liked to think that they had a wide range of books. Unfortunately, it had left her mind what type of books he enjoyed, which gave her a degree of disappointment.
Mikasa remembered Eren clearly, unlike the rest of her fuzzy memory. He was gorgeously tanned, even though he hated being out in the sun, which confused her. He had a cute little button for a nose, which Mikasa always liked to point out. His eyes...were everything. They were a vibrant green, and it reminded her of green grass on an early summers morning, when it had been raining the night before, and the dew drops hadn’t left the blades. Aside from his looks, Eren had a memorable personality. He was selfless; incredibly selfless. He cared about others way more than himself, even sometimes forgetting sometimes to take care of himself. He was also incredibly stupid; especially when he got drunk, when he wasn’t supposed to. He was a lightweight, which was pretty funny for everyone else when he had a hangover, and the teachers smelt the remanence of alcohol on his breath. Eren got into plenty of trouble for that.
Memories of high school had started to fade since Mikasa graduated, which she couldn’t help. She tried her hardest to cling onto memories; but most parts of her wanted to leave the past exactly where it should be; in the past, because of what happened. Twenty-three, and living on her own, Mikasa moved through the days with an odd presence around her constantly, like she had her own personal rain cloud that never stopped drenching her.
Mikasa rattled the keys that she had in her hand, almost dropping them. She finally managed to open the door to her work, turning the We’re Open sign over to face the outside world, and she shuffled her way inside. She flicked on the light switches under the check out desk where she was seated most of the day, and lights struck on one by one, shimmering across a ray of tables and chairs. The lights soon highlighted the books at the back of the tall open room. The raven began to take the chairs off the tops of the tables, inviting people to sit down and read in the library if they wished to do so. A few people had already entered, and doing her job, Mikasa greeted them politely as they quickly walked passed her. Some grunted in response, while others just smiled. Not that Mikasa cared, Just doing her job.
About half an hour into drumming her pen against her desk, the library began to get pretty busy. It was about half ten on a Saturday, so this was the usual. . That was another thing about working in a library; it was peaceful. Mikasa scanned the tops of people’s heads through the quiet rush of books being pulled out and being pushed in, and she played the game she usually played inside her head. What kind of life do you lead, brown haired gentleman? It occupied the time between people taking books in and out. Whilst scanning, Mikasa noticed a young man, maybe twenty- four, with a huge stack on books piling over his head, so she couldn’t see his face. She very quietly chuckled to herself. She studied him for a while, until he plonked the stack of books on the table. Mikasa finally looked at his face and...Dropped her pen. A blonde haired man, with his hair scraped back into a pony tail, wiped sweat of his brow. She recognized him.
Mikasa didn’t know many things in this confusing time in her life, but she was certain she knew who that was.