Welcome to Alphabet Soup!
This is a series of prompted one-shots based around my OCs.
Each chapter title is a word. That word (and definition) serve as the prompt!
I hope to write one story for each letter of the alphabet.
This is a fun little writing exercise that MercedesCarello involved me in! (Thanks!)
My goal here is just to explore my characters and their potentials.
I might even throw in a few that are based on the original characters. (Who knows?)
Disclaimer: I don't known Attack on Titan/ Shingeki no Kyojin- Hajime Isayama does. I do, however, own everything that comes out of my colorful imagination.
I hope you enjoy these little glimpses into the lives of my characters!
Talisman: an object (such as a ring or stone) that is believed to have magic powers and to cause good things to happen to the person who has it
Eve (age 6)
"Don't ever cut your hair, daughter." The slender, tall woman of fair hair and complexion she called Mother stood at her back, combing through long, thick auburn tresses.
"Why not?" the little girl played with an errant curl that had escaped the brush so far. She tugged it down, then watched as it jumped back to its original shape like a spring.
"Because no matter what happens in life, your hair is your one true possession." She didn't like it when Mother spoke this way. It reminded her of the worst time of her life, when they'd been poor and didn't even have enough to eat. It had been pure luck that her father was given the farm to work. They'd paid off her father's debts and now they had enough money for shoes, though she still chose to run around without them.
"It's too hot," the girl stated. She wasn't whining, this time, only remarking on the brutal summer sun that beat down on everything it could reach.
Mother chuckled. "That's why I'm going to braid it all up for you." The painful process only happened with Mother finally forced her to wash her hair. Baths were daily, but her hair was so long and unmanageable, they only washed it once a week.
Eve grunted and complained every time Mother pulled her hair too tightly or snagged a tangle with the comb. Before the braid was even half-way completed, her head was pounding and the skin on her forehead felt as if it might split if it were pulled any tighter. The braid never fell down behind her back. Instead, it was looped through itself and circled the top of her head in layers so thick, her scalp wasn't visible.
"Sit still!" Mother commanded, more exasperated than angry. "It will come loose if you keep wiggling. I know you don't want me to have to do it up all over again." It sounded like a threat, but she knew Mother worked hard to get her hair perfect. "Take care of your hair, daughter. It's beautiful."
She stared across the wide kitchen, longing for freedom against the torture. "But I don't like it!" She was met with a sharp rap over the top of her head with the flat side of the comb.
"So ungrateful!" Mother was angry this time. "You were blessed with this hair. It could be thin and plain like mine, or coarse and that dirty-looking brown like your father's." She knew she shouldn't say anything. It was a game Mother liked to play. She would offer up an alternative that wasn't a choice to be made. She often grew furious when Eve tried to play along.
"Are you almost done?" She knew she was whining, and that often got her into trouble, but her head was pounding and she was antsy. Her clean, for once, bare feet danced over the floor below her.
"Yes," Mother sighed. Eve felt the pins inserted into place. She sat as still as possible, counting to twenty. Once the final brown pin was scraped across her scalp, she leapt up and away from Mother's painful fingers.
"Can I go play with Erik now?" Mother nodded once. With a large grin, she wrapped her arms around Mother's waist. "Thank you!" And then she was off tearing through the soft grass as fast as her short little legs would carry her. Erik was out in the fields, trying to help Father, but only making a nusainse out of himself.
8 Years Later
"What have you done?" Mother screeched, clutching one hand to her breast and the other she pressed to her lips. "Eve..."
Piles of dark auburn curls littered the ground at the base of the tree Eve sat under. She reached up with the knife to hack away one more section. The strands that had once brushed against the backs of her knees now barely reached her shoulders. Mother sank to her knees in the damp grass, causing darker wet spots to show in the pale blue of her dress. Her dingy white apron was stained green from the grass.
"I couldn't take it anymore!" Eve felt defiant, angry, bitter. Mother's green eyes, so similar to her own, were watery with unshed tears. Triumph welled in her chest. "It was impractical, Mother."
"This... your hair... how could you?"
"My hair was always your treasure, Mother, not mine."
"Your hair has brought us good fortune!"
Eve's brow furrowed. "What?"
"The only other time I cut your hair, you were just a little thing- about two. I only took a few curls. I wanted to have a brooch made." Mother stopped, her voice catching in her throat as a sort of sob. Eve frowned. Her defiance and triumph faded into confusion and pity. "That same day, your father and I lost everything. He was robbed of his cart on the road and our little house burned to the ground. We had nothing left."
Mother had always been a superstitious person. Eve mocked her for it behind her back, but Erik had been convinced of a sort of truth to most of it. The knife in Eve's hand fell to the soft earth, sticking into the dirt. A man came riding up to them, both he and his horse appearing breathless.
"Get your horses! Come with me!" Mother stood, a horrified look on her face as the tears finally escaped. "We need to go!"
"Why?" Eve asked, challenging the unfamiliar, dark-skinned man.
"Wall Maria has been breached! Titans are coming!"
