"The poor girl's crazy." commented Jean on Annie's state as he peered through the door into her room. There she sat on the unmade bed, looking through the window at the bright scenery of summer. She was completely broken; her light hair in a mess that made her face appear faded and worn out, her empty blue eyes as glossy as glass and just as reflective.
"Give her time." Armin whispered though he didn't need to fear his words reaching Annie, her ears had become decorations with no use. But Armin feared sudden noise or even sudden movement would further break Annie into pieces; she had become so fragile almost as if she was made of glass herself. Jean sighed and reached for the doorknob only to be stopped by Armin's hand.
"Don't." Armin stated letting his eyes do the reasoning only to be met with a grunt from Jean.
"She needs snap out of it." Jean said firmly and stepped into the room, with Armin quietly panicking behind him; his footsteps oddly filled the otherwise quiet room. He stopped by Annie's bed, pausing for a few seconds unsure of how to greet her. She was not the Annie he knew. The stranger's small shoulders were hunched as she sat in a fetal position with her head resting deep in her crossed arms. Though Annie had never been the talkative type, she had lost her human presence; once a commanding aura surrounded her and now she was non-differentiable from a furniture piece.
"Annie?" Jean called out unsurely. The stranger looked like Annie but at the same time she was everything Annie was not. There wasn't a glimmer of recognition from the girl at her own name. Jean reached out for her hunched shoulder. There was still no response. Jean softly sat next to her.
"Are you not going to talk?" asked Jean. Annie was as responsive as a statue. Jean sighed and joined Annie's window gazing. The green leafed branches of tall trees were stretching out to reach for the cloudless blue sky with the sun high up in the horizon. Songs of birds could just barely be heard from indoors. With nothing to do Jean picked up a tune from one of the birds. He started to whistle effortlessly. His notes filled up the whitewashed room, resonating in the emptiness. Annie's eyes slowly blinked and turned towards Jean who continued gleefully now that Annie was finally responding.
"You're good." Annie commented as Jean finally ran out of air and stopped. That was probably the first time Annie had ever complimented him. Though it was a compliment for such a trivial skill somehow his chest swelled in pride.
"I can teach you to whistle. You probably can't get as good as me but we can give it a try." Annie's eyes narrowed in thought but no words came out. Her eyes went back to the window.
"Come on it's pretty easy, we can start with one note!" Jean whistled a note clearly and loudly, encouraging Annie to follow along. After a few seconds of contemplation Annie tried to whistle but no sound came out. Jean smiled at her incompetence and let her try on her own for a few minutes. Still all Annie produced was a breathy sound.
"You need to pucker up your lips properly!" Jean directed her. Annie did but still nothing resembling a note came out.
"No, that's wrong! Like this!" Jean turned her head towards his face so she could see. Annie stared at his face, completely shocked. Only then Jean understood what he was doing and the embarrassment stunned him. He was holding Annie's face while puckering up!
Annie reached out for his shoulder and in a second Jean was on the floor. She then stood up and whistled the same note as Jean; clear and loud. Still disoriented and a bit hurt from being thrown on the floor Jean wasn't sure but he thought he saw Annie smile.