Feel New Chapter One: Crazy Ass Woman and Weird Yet Intriguing Guy In The Woods
"Black and blues,
And yellows, too.
Fade the same,
As embers do.
We'll wake up tomorrow
And feel new."
-Chris Garneau "Halloween"
The trees were a whir of green as the car rushed by. Street vendors sold hotdogs to whining and hungry children. Their mothers reluctantly bought their orders, reprimanding them that they couldn't always have it their way. That throwing tantrums is unreasonable. It was no use. It never will be.
With your sneakered feet propped up on the car dashboard, ear buds hanging precariously from your ears with dangerously loud music playing, you continued to gaze out the window as the world passed you by. It always did, you realized. You were on your way to yet another foster home. It was your 8th one in four months. They always said the same thing: "She never connects with anyone", "Does she have depression? She needs a doctor!", "A trouble-maker", "That poor girl; I hope she finds a family that suits her soon". Fuck them, you thought bitterly. They were the problem. And you didn't need their pity.
So, anyway, here you were. Stuck in a car with your social worker, Levi. Despite his age, he had the attitude of a teenager. He would swear like a fucking shitty sailor and push people away from him. You always wondered how such a crude man would turn out to become a social worker for children.
"Oi, shitty brat, get your dirty sneakers off my dashboard," Levi barked, breaking the silence. Yup; this was a social worker.
He was also very clean. Just despised any kind of dirt.
Even through your loud music you could hear him. You didn't comply, eyeing his ebony hair from behind the car seat.
"Hello? I'm talking to you." His voice sounded annoyed.
Sighing, you lifted your feet off the dashboard, one foot at a time, taking an eternity.
"Good. Are you excited for your new foster home?"
You turned off your music. He didn't sound excited, that was for sure.
"Well?" he asked when you didn't say anything.
You grunted. "Whatever."
"Tch," Levi said, focusing on driving now that he knew you weren't up to conversation. It wasn't like he was going to hold it for very long; you could tell he didn't even like to talk to you. Pretty much no one did.
You rolled your eyes, wrapping your earbuds around your phone and shoving it into your pack. Inside it was where you kept most of your belongings, like books or your sketchbooks and shit. You've always had the pack, even before you started going to foster homes. Which reminded you of why you even had to go to them. You wrinkled your nose, still being able to smell the oranges in the air and hear the police sirens wailing in the distance.
You looked out the window again. You found that you were no longer in the streets of the busy island but now in calm neighborhoods, devoid of any kind of bustling of street vendors that reeked of grease and hotdogs, or the honks of cars from frustrated business men trying to get to their press conference in time. The island was mostly neighborhoods, but there was the occasional plaza and such. You knew this because you had been living on the west side of it. It was about an hour's drive from Seattle. Ever since you began going to the hell homes you've been jumping from place to place all over the island, always relocating to a new home because you were too much of a handful for the last foster parents. You never stayed in the home for too long; your current record was six and a half days because you were "endangering" the woman's precious little dogs. You just wanted to see if the chocolate thing was true.
Not like you knew it was already proven before but you were human. Curiosity was natural.
The houses you passed were mostly the same: cobblestone or brick with ceramic roof tiles or black shingles. Some were painted differently and, of course, had differences, but still. Pretty much the same house over and over again. Soon the car slowed and Levi parked it near the curb of a large house. It was big, that was for sure. You were certain there were three floors. The roof was colored differently than the others: a dusty green while the home's outer walls were white. The stone steps that lead up to the house were cluttered with random objects: chairs, mats, logs, and even a lawn flamingo. Tacky and ironic. The front lawn was full of flower beds that contained what their title had: flowers. And lots of them. It made you want to throw up.
"We're here," Levi announced.
You grabbed your things and prepared yourself for another short term at the new house and opened the car door, stepping out. Levi walked around the car to stand beside you. You pretty much towered over the midget by a few inches. He was short as hell. But intimidating. Like a chihuahua when you took its overcooked hotdog away from it. You shuddered from experience.
Suddenly the front door of the house burst open, swinging and trembling on its hinges. A tall woman stepped out in a long spring floral dress. Her sandaled feet clacked against the stone pathway as she scurried to you. Her hair was a wild mess, her glasses were as crooked as her grin, and the most terrifying part of all was that she was holding a knife.
Instinctively you turned around and opened the car door hurriedly and slipped in, pushing down the little lock in place before the mad woman could get any closer. Levi watched you and didn't even move to stop you as you escaped into his car. The woman stopped beside the social worker, peering through the glass at your startled gaze.
"Shy, aren't we?" was all she said.
Levi took a step back from the tall woman. "Miss. Zoe, please put that away."
Miss. Zoe looked at him quizzically until she realized what he was speaking about. She held up the knife. "Ohh. My carving knife. Sorry about that." She placed the knife in her dress pocket and turned to the car window, taping on the glass. "You can come out; I won't hurt you!"
You didn't really believe her. As long as Levi patted her down and got rid of the weapon, then you weren't coming out. You slid across the back seats away from the window, eyeing this crazy woman. She straightened and placed her fists on her hips. She turned to Levi and asked, "What's her name again?"
"_," you answered for her before Levi could. "_ _." You used your last name this time.
"What a nice name! I'm Miss. Hanji Zoe, but you can call me Hanji."
You eyed her for a few seconds, contemplating weather you should get out of the car or stay in it where you were certain it was safe. She could stab you. But then again, she wouldn't. But she could…
"Hey, brat, get out of the car. I've got places to be and I'd rather not be late," Levi said, narrowing his dark eyes.
Rolling your eyes, you opened the door on the other side and stepped out, slinging your pack over your shoulder. You shut the door loudly and walked around the side and stood beside Levi.
"Alright then. I'm going," he said, going back into the driver's seat.
You watched him drive away in his black Subaru until he was just a speck on the horizon.
"_, come on! Let me show you around," Hanji said, beckoning for you to follow her into the house. She babbled as she lead you up the stone path.
"I hope you don't mind all the clutter; I have a lot more logs behind the house. I like to carve, which explains the knife. I was in the middle of making a little elephant when you came. Sometimes my friend Moblit comes over to help me. He's such a kind guy!"
You paused outside her door as she stepped in. This was your new foster home. You figured you wouldn't last long in here; maybe even beat your record. She was a weird lady. Sighing, you stepped inside.
The living room was large with a fifty inch flat screen and colorful floral couches that matched Hanji's dress. The walls were colored a pale yellow. The windows illuminated the color even more, making it pop. All along the walls were pictures of children, smiling and playing and laughing without a care in the world. Along the windowsills were little carved animals and people, painted for better detail. You picked a carving of a boy walking a dog, both frozen mid-step. The detail on the fur of the dog looked as if it were actually bouncing with its movements, as well as the boy's hair and clothes. The detail on his face was excruciatingly realistic; lips curved in a smile, the crinkle of skin by the eyes, the way the eyes glowed.
"I just love to carve my foster children in my spare time. It's fun and really gets my hands working," Hanji continued, pressing a hand against your back to lead you to the kitchen. Carve? In what way? You stepped into the kitchen and glanced all over. The marble countertop stood in the centre of the long room. It was pretty much normal, with the regular kitchen appliances and a dining table. She showed you the rest of the house, occasionally seeing a flash of ginger.
"It's my cat, Sawney," Hanji explained. "I have a dog, too. His name is Bean. He's sleeping upstairs."
As if on cue, a flash of brown and black fur sped down the stairs straight at you. Bean tackled you to the ground. He licked your face and neck, humongous paws on your chest. You couldn't resist laughing; it was contagious. When was the last time you laughed like this?
It's been a while…
"Bean! No, get off of _," Hanji ordered, pulling at his collar. The German Shepard sat down, letting you stand and wipe your face.
"It's okay," you spoke quietly.
She smiled warmly at you. "You should laugh more. It'll help."
You nodded, understanding, but laughing still felt guilty. How could you be enjoying life when your mother and little sister were dead and your father was a recovering alcoholic? You urged the horrible memories of the accident away.
So far, Hanji's home consisted of four empty rooms on the top two floors, the room on the bottom floor belonging to hers, a grand backyard with an oak tree and a stack of logs, a cluttered front lawn, three birdhouses, two pets, and a partridge in a pear tree. The last one was just for reasons.
Your room was on the top floor. It was much more roomy than your last bedroom. There were three tall windows at the front of the room where it faced the front lawn. Your queen sized bed stood in the corner, a nightstand right beside it and a wardrobe in front of the bed. It was a nice room, you realized, but what made it even better was the drawing table in front of the window. It was perfect. You laid your sketchbooks and supplies in the table's drawers and opened the wardrobe, finding it already filled with clothes of your size. And style. Nothing that attracted too much attention.
You sat at the drawing desk, spinning around in the wheely chair. You stared out the window, bored. You didn't want to be in foster homes. You didn't want to stay with this crazy ass woman. But she did have a pretty cool place, you had to admit that. But you'd rather be at home, alone. You knew you could support yourself. But the social workers didn't think a fifteen year old girl with problems couldn't. You ignored them anyway; your first foster home ended up in a disaster as you had tried to runaway and proceeded to continuously attempt to. No matter how fast you walked or ran, police cars would always be faster than you.
And louder. God those things caused a lot of attention.
Sighing, you stood from the chair and flopped onto the bed, crossing your arms behind your back. You shut your eyes, hoping you could take a nap. You soon found yourself slipping into the depths of sleep.
-
Your alarm was beeping. You wanted it to shut the fuck up, but you couldn't move. The beeping became louder as it neared, and you realized it wasn't your alarm, but a police siren. Lots of them. The place reeked of gasoline and oranges. All you could see was darkness. Suddenly you remembered what had happened; the truck, the cell phone ringing, the speed, and the impact. What had happened to your mother and little baby sister?
"_," you croaked, calling for your little sister.
There was no answer.
Your eyes cracked open. Broken glass everywhere, cuts and bruises on your mom and sister, the windshield broken into pieces. You turned to your sister, who sat in her booster seat, head hanging limply on her shoulder. Blood dripped from her temple where it collided with the window.
"_?" you asked, panic rising inside of you. "_! Mom?! Mom!"
There was never going to be an answer.
-
Your eyes snapped open, wide and terrified at the memory. They quickly returned to their normal annoyed state.
Napping is not good, you stated to yourself.
"Fucking tease," you muttered, pressing a shaky palm to your forehead.
"_!" called Hanji from downstairs, making you jump. "Come on down; there's someone I want you to meet!"
Still dazed from the dream, you looked out the window to find it almost dark outside. You got up from the bed with a grunt and ran down the stairs, jumping down the last three to annoy Hanji. It didn't really faze her, it seems.
A tall man sat on the far couch. You eyed the man as he smiled at you and stood. He towered over you and you swallowed. His brown parted hair made him look much like a business man and reminded you much of Erwin, who was director of Social Security and made sure to put all children in good care.
"This is Moblit!" Hanji said.
You shook the man's hand as he greeted you. "Hello."
You grunted back. Hanji beamed at you before suggesting, "Why don't you explore the neighborhood? There's a little woods nearby; just don't stay out too long." You were pretty sure now she was just trying to get rid of you.
Exploring didn't seem bad, though. You nodded and rushed upstairs to snatch a light sweater from the closet, not really caring to choose properly. Your mistake; it was bright orange. Looking at the color made you want to throw up. A lot of things made you want to throw up. You quickly tightened the shoe laces on your sneakers and fixed your shorts before heading out.
With your hands shoved in your pockets, you walked along the sidewalk in the cool March air. The sun was going down, but it would be about an hour or two before it would be too dark to walk around. The neighborhood you were currently living in was pretty quiet; no kids other than yourself, you figured, living on the street. You turned the corner where the street ended and found the woods Hanji was talking about. Now intruded by nature, you stepped forward, entering the woods.
The trees were mostly maple and oak. You tried not to walk very loudly but the vegetation on the ground made your steps louder than you hoped for. You finally came upon a small clearing where a creek split it in two. A blossom tree swayed in the wind by the water source, its pink and white flowers flittering in the breeze. Discarded petals lay here and there, more fluttering to the ground from the tree's branches. The trunk of the tree was thick, you noted, and even from this distance you could see how large it was. You breathed in, closing your eyes and letting the wind tousle your hair. You opened them, calmer than you were before. Maybe you could get used to it here…
No, you scolded yourself for thinking that. Like hell you'd like it in a foster home. Especially this one; crazy ass woman and her animals. You began contemplating weather or not to "loose" some chocolate on the floor or in Bean's food bowl, walking towards the little creek. As you neared, you were able to peer around the trunk, and you saw someone propped up against it.
You froze. Was that person here the whole time? Didn't they hear you noisily trampling the whole damn woods? Seriously, it was like you were waking the whole place up. You edged closer to the person, eyes glancing all over. You came to the conclusion that it was a man, no a boy, no a teen. You stood in front of him. What the hell? His head hung limply over his shoulder.
An image of your little sister in her car seat sitting in the same position as him appeared in your mind and you willed it away.
You squatted, taking in his features. His hairstyle looked strange to you: brown copper hair and shaved sideburns and most of the back of his head. His eyes were closed, portraying that he was asleep. He looked peaceful. His dark eyebrows furrowed in his sleep but then relaxed. You leaned closer, curious. Your (e/c) orbs gazed along the side of his long angular face, following his jaw. Who the fuck takes naps in the forest, you thought. This guy was weird, you concluded. Maybe he was some sort of nature hippie or something of that sort. Save the forest, brah. Groovy.
You eyed his clothing. A tan leather jacket was draped over his arm. He was only in a short sleeved shirt, and you wondered if he was cold. Even if it was spring, the wind and night air was still a little chilly. You straightened, feeling like some sort of weird stalker that stares at guys all day. With a last glance over your shoulder, you walked to the creek. The sound of water splashing and moving slowly was hypnotizing. Combined with the warm air, hot sun, and cool breeze, it was pretty much intoxicating. You could listen to it all day. You looked at the other side of the clearing. It was much darker over there and the vegetation was especially thick and gnarly there. You squinted, tempted to step over the creek. You lifted your foot, contemplating weather or not you should go.
"I wouldn't go over there if I were you."
You turned around, gazing at the man. He was no longer sitting upright against the tree, for now he stood by it, a hand pressed against it as if he needed it for balance. You glanced all over the tall man before looking back up to his eyes. They were a beautiful shade of brown, almost golden, with a darker brown by the iris.
"I'm Jean," he greeted.
"And I don't care." You stepped across the creek, not caring that he had just told you not to do so.
"Hey! What are you doing?"
"What does it look like I'm doing, idiot?" you snapped, glancing at Jean. You liked his name; Ja-awn. A hard G followed by a yawn. French?
"You shouldn't go over there," he called to you.
"Yeah, and people shouldn't just randomly sleep in forests."
"Geez, attitude." He let out a low whistle. "This is a free country; I can sleep wherever I want."
You turned around to glare at him and continued walking.
"H-hey!" You heard Jean run to you. He stepped in front of you, blocking your way. "What did I just tell you? You shouldn't go in there; it's really dangerous."
You glowered at him some more before turning around and stalking back to the tree. He followed you with a sigh of relief.
"Hey, um, I haven't seen you around here," he said. "What's your name?"
"Why do you need to know?"
"Well, I told you mine so its only fair that you tell me yours."
You stepped over the creek and turned around to face him. "I didn't ask for your name."
He narrowed his eyes, annoyed. "Sheesh, you're making it really hard for me not to curse you out right now, considering I just met you."
"I have that effect on guys."
He chuckled. "Did you just move here?"
You stared at him blankly. "_," you said, not really answering this question.
"Hah?"
"My name is _."
"Ah, there we go. See, that wasn't so hard!"
God he was so fucking annoying.
"Oh shut up," you exhaled, turning away. You decided to make your way back home now, exploring mood now killed because of this guy.
"I'm pretty sure you didn't move here. There hasn't anyone that's left the neighbor hold. Plus, I haven't seen your face around these streets, meaning you're not from around here. I should know, I've lived here all my life."
"I didn't ask for your life story, Jean," you growled, ducking beneath a branch.
He rolled his eyes.
"And what's with all the questions?" you asked, glancing back at him.
"I'm just curious! I've never seen you before in my life and you just magically pop up out of nowhere."
He eyed you for a moment before something caught his eye. "What's that?" he asked quietly, pointing at a long scar on your arm and a yellowing bruise beside it, peeking out from behind your sweater.
Shit, you thought as you covered it.
"Nothing," you snapped. Oh god, what if he had seen more of them?
He rolled his eyes and snapped back, "Well, I'm sorry for asking."
"Whatever," you replied. "I'd like to get home now, so if you don't mind…" You could hear the edge in your voice.
"Okay, okay. Geez Louise." Jean put his hands up in a'whoa nelly' expression.
You stepped out of the woods, leaving the weird guy behind before he could even register that you left and crossed the street to the sidewalk. But you didn't notice that he was watching you, curious as you were about him as he was about you.
Weirdos, you thought, as you opened the door to Hanji's home. As you stepped in you heard laughter and Moblit was walking towards you, the door, carrying his sweater. He held out a hand and you shook it as he said, "Until next time, _." Then he was gone. Who says that these days? It's fucking 2013.
"Uh, yeah, toodles," you muttered back as he stepped out.
You closed the door and locked it, heading into the kitchen were Hanji was. The smell of macaroni was in the air. You noticed Hanji was hunched over by the stove, pulling out a long pan. "Here we are!" she sighed.
"Oh, _, back so soon?"
You didn't reply, just sat down at the dining table because you were hungry. She straightened and laid the pan on the table. Macaroni, peas, and ham. It looked a little burnt by the edges, but overall looked pretty edible. Hanji sat down across from you and laid two plates on the table, one for you and one for her, as well as cups. She filled them with lemonade and plopped macaroni on the plates. She leaned back in her chair and glanced all over your face.
You raised an eyebrow questionably.
"How was it?" she asked, picking up her fork. You did the same and tried the macaroni, which was surprisingly decent. It may be a little too cheesy though…
"It was fine," you said simply.
"Hmm. Hey, did you know I'm a scientist?"
You shook your head lightly and continued eating, staring at your food. Great, another life story from the Crazy Ass Woman Who's Now a Mad Scientist.
"I study mutants and genetics. So far, I've been working on this mutant animal we can't identify. We called it Titan," she babbled. "I'm pretty there are lots more…!" That was when you stopped listening. Her face light up with glee as she talked nonstop about the experiments they performs at the lab.
For some reason, that annoying son of a bitch was still in your mind. Jean. Maybe you would see him more often now. Did he live on the street? You thought there were no kids on the street. Were there?
"Hanji," you spoke up, cutting her off.
"Hm?"
"Are there any other kids who live on this street?" you asked, meeting her gaze for the first time during dinner.
"Ah, sure! There's Eren, Mikasa, and Jean. You're the only teenager at the moment. Mikasa is Eren's adoptive sister. Jean lives with his family across the street from us. Eren and him fight a lot often."
Oh? So he lived right across from you. Who were these other people though?
Hanji's voice interrupted your thoughts as she went on. "I'm not sure if its actually true, but I heard Jean's best friend disappeared. Those two were like peas in a pod. He doesn't talk to anyone anymore. Not even his parents or his teachers. I think he knows it's hopeless that the police won't find his friend."
You looked up in interest. Huh? Something clicked in your mind for a second. Maybe he was more like you than you realized. How did it feel to lose your best friend? You only had one, but she moved away a long time ago before the accident. You never heard from her again.
"What happened to his friend?" you asked, now getting more and more interested in this guy.
"He disappeared one day. Never saw him again."
You turned back to your meal, choosing not to ask anything more or else she'll notice that you were interest in him.
"I saw him," you said.
"Hm? Where?"
"Woods. He was asleep. Talked to him."
"Really? You got him talking?" Hanji stuck out her lower lip in thought. "His mother told me he hasn't spoken for more than eight months. How did you get him talking?"
You paused for a moment before answering. "I didn't get him talking. He told me not to cross the creek. I did and he tried to get me to turn back. I eventually did and we started talking. He started asking questions."
"Strange…"
There was silence as you two took in the information. You took a few more bites of your dinner before Hanji announced, "You're going to school."
You glared up at her.School?
"I know the other foster homes had you stay at home but education is important. You start next week. Let's see, today is…Thursday. So in a few days. In the meantime, I'll let you adjust here."
Great. Now you had to worry about high school? But coming in at almost the end of the year? Into tenth grade?
"Why so late in the school year?" you asked, incredulous.
"Oh stop, you'll manage."
"What high school?"
"Sina. There are three schools in the area. Maria: the elementary school, Rose: the middle school, and Sina: the high school."
You groaned, but then moaned when you tasted the lemonade. Bless the gods; lemonade this good should be illegal in all states.
"I make the best lemonade in town!" Hanji boasted, pleased with your reaction. You gulped down more of the yellow sugary goodness. "You know, in the summer we have contests. I've been having a three year streak!"
You wanted to say something in return, like that that was really cool, but you were too busy draining your cup. You set it down with clink and sighed, pleased.
"More macaroni?"
You nodded, eyes half lidded.
The whole meal was mostly spent getting to know Hanji. It was weird getting to know a foster parent since you never really spoke with any of your past ones. Hanji's hobbies were carving, playing her piccolo, water skiing, tennis, and an assortment of other sports with names you couldn't pronounce. Everyday (except holidays and days off when she's not needed) Hanji goes to the lab across town from six in the morning till seven thirty. When days were especially busy, she would stay late until eleven or so. Hanji was also a huge fan of Elvis. You later realized this when you saw her room, which was full of Elvis merchandise, posters, framed pictures with him signature ("My grandmother got those for my mother, who later passed them onto me!"), and even a plush. Seemed like the obsession over Elvis ran in the family. As you sat in the living room surfing through the channels, you heard Hanj play an album of his while washing the dishes.
"…body in the whole cell block, was dancing to the jail house rock…,"you heard her sing along. A small smile played across your lips as you pressed the off button, standing and heading upstairs.
Your room was dark when you reached it. Flipping on the switch, you closed the door behind you and walked to the windows, grabbing onto the curtains. You stared out the window for a moment, watching the last bit of pink erased from the sky and replaced with the black of the night. Across the street stood a brick house with a black shingles roof, yellow light streaming from the windows. In the fading light, you glanced across the lawn quickly, taking in the bike that was casted off recklessly. The front door of the house opened and your gaze flicked to it. Someone stepped out carrying a garbage bag. As the last of the light faded, your eyes settled on copper brown hair before Jean's head turned and his gaze rested on your window, where you stood. You cringed as his eyes landed on yours and you pulled on the curtains, covering the windows. You flopped onto your bed, reaching for your phone on your nightstand. You browsed the Internet before nodding off to sleep, though your last thought was,
God dammit.
Hello hello! First Jean x Reader insert! HooorAAAAAY
How do Jean's personality?
Anyway, please review, it'll help me a lot. Hope you like this because we're going on a wild ride and I'm going to hell for writing such an angsty fic.
Rating may change but: Trigger warnings, violence, talk of suicide.
Okey doke see you next time.