Hello my fellow words! This is my first fanfic I have ever written and my first authors note too! Hooray! Anyways time for a few interesting announcements, explanations, and a simple request. This will be a multi-chapter story following brotherhood mostly. Also this story has some history involved. August 6 and August 9 are approaching so in memory of the first victims of the first atomic bombs used by humanity my oc will be a victim of the infamous weapons.

Having said that I have read about the bomb, the effects, and survivors' stories from various websites and watched barefoot gen and its sequel. I noticed in the comments of those articles hateful things and debates said about whether the bomb was right or wrong. Personally I believe it was utterly wrong, low, and dirty to target innocent civilians. So I want to ask possible reviewers to reframe from making hateful comments like the ones I have seen. I would appreciate it very much and thank you.

I believe that is all I have to say to you my dear readers. Now on with the story!

You have to accept whatever comes and the only important thing is that you meet it with the courage and with the best that you have to give~unknown

Prologue

I miss them.

I miss my family, my friends, my city, my neighbors, even my school. I happily lived with my parents, my baby brother, and our pet pygmy goat. I hung out with my best friends everyday at our favorite places. I caused mayhem all over the neighborhood. I did great in school and was on good terms with all my teachers.

That life has become the shadows and ghosts of the past.

The world I knew is gone. My home has been reduced to nothing but a graveyard siting under a dusty, polluted sky filled with clouds that yield black radioactive rain. Bodies and rubble lay scattered everywhere like a child had

dragged out all their toys and didn't clean their mess up afterwards. You could see the hopelessness and sorrow floating around.

The silence was a welcomed sound far better than the agonized pleas for water from the burned and mutilated "survivors" who still lived even while their skin hung off their bodies as strings and blobs of flesh. They couldn't see it with empty or damaged eyes,, but the feeling must had been even more torturous than any image could be. The nightmares have not excluded them.

I was left alone and broken. My family was dead. My friends were dead. I was not ready to become a victim of war. My sorrow was drowning me and I would've died a lot sooner on that hot ground if my last surviving friend and neighbor had held out a hand to me when I needed it most.

A miracle or cruel luck spared me the same fate as the "survivors", but death still came to collect in the form of a rabid illness. First it seemed like the flu with a little nausea and vomiting and a simple fever. Soon the symptoms went away and I felt fine for a little while. My burns even looked like they started to heal. But only for a little while.

My body started to feel like thousands of bugs were burrowing and eating my insides. I grew weaker and weaker. The pain in my body grew worse. I didn't want to eat anything. I would vomit till I was just gagging and felt nauseated all the time. My burns itched and blistered and swelled. The pain brought me to tears. It hurt so much to move.

The bomb released deadly radiation that entered and destroyed my body. Soon I couldn't even stand up. I was bedridden for two days. Then the day I died the blood I had coughed and vomited up covered the floor, ground, and myself. It looked like a bloody murder had taken place in our little shelter. My friend was wiping the blood off my face with one hand and holding my hand with his other hand. My vision had been black for hours, but I noticed the pain was fading. I grew quiet and relaxed. I felt like I was floating away and the world around me seemed distant and unreal like a dream. I knew I was dying. I had never wanted to die. Somehow I managed to turn my head to my friend and catch a glimpse of him through the fog. I told him I was sorry, but apparently I had to go. The blood all over me made a warm blanket. I heard him call my name, but it sounded like an echo.

"Mikasa!" He called.

My body only went limped in response. My lungs desperately attempted to draw another breathe in and my heart desperately tried to gather more strength to produce another beat, but it was all in vain. The quiet, dark abyss pulled me away where I was to never to see my friend or the ruins of my home and my life again.

Then I woke up.

The sudden sight, sounds, and sensations shocked me. I nearly choked and it took everything in me to remember how to breathe. My vision was still extremely blurry and I still felt incredibly weak. Above me I saw the blue sky, the white clouds, and the brilliant sun and I knew I was out of that hell! I realized I was moving and saw an angel flying me to heaven.

Or so I thought.

In some ways I was wrong. In some ways I was right.

It took much soul-searching to let go of the hate and craving for revenge I had. I realized though nothing I did would bring my life back or reverse the events from the past that I described above. The war had already ended anyway. So I cherish the memories of the life I lived and hold them dear to me in the present.

You can never replace a person or people you love, but you can always add more as you live on and move forward no matter where you find yourself.