(paper skies, graphite clouds)
she had faith. — petra.
This is a cruel world.
Full of disappointments, failures, troubles, corruption, lies — but never once did Petra want to avert her eyes from it. For she was born in a world she'd deemed beautiful her entire life; she knew where to look.
It was in hydrangeas after rain, the smell of the wavering heat in summers, the chill in her bones as she watched the world rush below her feet — and like the tiny key to a small, insignificant secret, she would hide it in her pocket and wait until there was another she could share it with. Petra knew the world was merciless, and weakness would churn you up inside and tear you apart— that weakness was not an option, she learns later, that in order for you to give your dreams a stage there are some things you had to give up, harden, let go of.
But she had faith; faith in the future of humanity, in her fellow soldier, her hopes, her dreams and her failures.
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Episodes would flicker through her head every night since leaving hometown. Like broken snippets of a snapped motion picture, every evening she'd watch them float in the space above her head, a constant reminder of what could've been.
However, no picture was clearer than that same picture she'd dream of for days; waking up to a wall and inched closer and closer, blocking off her piece of the sky, her share of the clouds—
A stem from that thought grew into wild flowers, flowers that over time, governed the whole field.
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She'd count the days at first, and after the first three months, she stops counting. Sleepless nights became dreamless nights, the constant aching in her muscles hardening her body and soul. Her once childlike, soft, girlish skin now nowhere to be found, but battered and roughened up to the point she was looking at a different person in the mirror.
It is a testament to her strength, she thinks. She need not stay the ghost of what she once was, for she is looking ahead to the brighter days of tomorrow because she believes in it, and that's all she really needs.
Yet, she's not sure if she can throw away her life.
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Two years later, she is still unsure; about death, and her own alliances.
Sophia and Marie both look at her like she's gone down the realm of crazy and surfaced with fatal damages. Petra runs her hand through her short red hair and laughs nervously, and wonders if she'd ever see them again.
"I'll be fine," She remembers laughing, too. But she's not so sure why. "Just make sure you two take care of each other!" Her smile is a good natured one, as she gives them each a pat on the back. Of course Petra fears the worst, but her mind is made and her heart is set in stone. It is a belief of hers given to her by her mother; that no matter what, don't help fear spread, because fear is more contagious than hope.
It is then she wonders if she'd ever see her mother's smiling face again. It is then she wonders if the twin wings of freedom will raise her up and give her piece of sky back to her.
It is a small hope, but it's also hers, and the beating of her heart is keeping it going.
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The subject of death has come up ever since she left home.
It was barely on the lips of her parents, told in whispers and hushes during her training days, and in found its way into everyone's eyes in those who joined the survey corps. These days though, it's a topic that comes up every once in a while, and somewhere along the lines it became a topic for idle chatter.
Some accepted that they were going to die, and would try and avoid thinking about it to say it out loud, as if by doing so, it would become the truth. It was never a stance Petra would try and fault or feel shame for — it was all part of being human.
"Hey, how would you like it die? You know, if you could… choose?" The boy sitting next to her at dinner asks, nudging her shoulder a little.
All Petra was trying to do was not get her new cape dirty. The new recruits had just got them that afternoon, and the buzz of pride was still fizzling in her head enough to forget about death and giant man eating monsters for one evening.
"Um…" But despite all of that going around her head, it was a question she seriously considered.
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"Watching my patch of sky, probably." Smiling vaguely, she turned her head to him. "You?"
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notes: I don't care. Judge me if you want. Petra's my baby and no one's gonna take her away from me. Anyhow, I haven't wrote fics for so long so I'm quite rusty. Thank you for taking your time reading this, yeah. I had a lot of things to write about Petra too, like her first meeting with titans, her wanting to get married, her first meeting with heichou, her first meeting with her special op comrades— there's a lot. Maybe another time, but I doubt it.
21:11, 01/09/2013