If My Heart Was A House
by slowrabbits
If my heart was a house
you'd be home.
She sits by the mouth of the alleyway, with only thin clothes protecting her from the hearty gust of Christmastime wind. It is late in the night, almost morning, but Mirajane Strauss cannot sleep. For when she closes her eyes, the horror of the past two nights replay under her eyelids like a sick horror movie on repeat. She does not want to think about it. It feels like a bad dream. A really bad dream which she couldn't wake from. A hot ball of nausea rolled in her stomach and she doesn't know if that's because she's hungry, tired and cold. But then again, she feels nothing else, and for that she was glad. The vestiges of sorrow and longing throb in her chest like a fire, but that is easy to ignore over her anxiety and desire to be numb, even for a little while longer.
She thinks: Elfman is only just a boy. He loved their mama so much, and he hasn't stopped crying since. He refuses to let go of his Mira-nee's hand, afraid that she'll leave, too, if he even takes his eyes off her. It has only been two nights since their parents were killed, but Elfman already looks too old for his ten years. And Lisanna, still too young and innocent, cannot understand what was going on and Mirajane didn't know how to break it to her without shattering the girl's spirit. Every time Lisanna asked where mama and papa was, it put a strain on Mira's aching heart. She can't explain why they were suddenly orphaned and homeless. She knows she can't avoid her sister's questions for longer, so her hours are spent trying to word together a sugar-coated clarification. She isn't sure she could handle Lisanna's tears.
Mira doesn't know how to impart comfort. She can barely even comfort herself. She doesn't know what to do: how will she raise two children on her own when she was still just a child herself? How will Elfman eat now that his growing boy's appetite permits him to wipe out a table of food in one sitting? How will she buy pretty little Lisanna those dolls and dresses she loves so much? How will she wipe away the grief that ate away at their little family like a cancer? Thinking, worrying, she watches her siblings sleep under a threadbare blanket on the cold, hard ground. Elfman still holds his older sister's hand and Lisanna curls up on Mirajane's lap. They haven't eaten that day, so she told Elfman and Lisanna to just sleep off the hunger. Maybe tomorrow she'll get a job at some guild and they can eat whatever they want. Mira was powerful; her father has seen to that. But she is also so lost, so angry and sad. Nevertheless, she has to be strong. And while that is true, during the night when no one can see or hear, she allows herself to cry.
AN: Mira is my fave. I want to wake up one day and be her.