Real quick author note!
I do not own any of the characters mentioned in the story, they all belong to their rightful owner Hajime Isayama.
Also, there are triggers in this first chapter. (Suicide and self-harm.) This chapter is not for the faint-hearted. But, I can reassure you that it will lighten up in the next chapter. ^^
This is aslo my first story for Shingeki no Kyojin (aka Attack on Titan), and I hope I can keep the characters.. Well, in character.
Thank you!
I hope you enjoy~!
It was well passed midnight, nearing dawn, and most people were in their rooms asleep, seeing as they had chores to endure in the moring.
Most.
In his own room, a teenager with shaggy blonde hair sat upon his bed; his hands over his head with his fragile face hidden behind his golden locks of hair, protecting his shaking form from the outside worls.
It had been weeks since the last mission; weeks since more brave soldiers gave their lives to the fight for humanity's sake. All because his pathetic plan failed.
'It's all your fault they're gone,' voices echoed in the teen's head, causing broken sobs to force their way passed his cracked lips.
'You're the reason they died. You're a murderer. Weak. Pathetic.' The angry voice spoke, sending shivers down Armin's spine.
He choked on his own siliva as he shook his head, trying to escape the haunting vioces. "No.. No.. You're w-wrong!" His bright blue eyes were wide with pure terror, tears soaking his pale cheeks as they trickled down passed his chapped lips, dripping off his chin.
A cold, menacing laugh filled the silence of his head, causing the broken teen to cringe and bury his head deeper within his arms.
'How long before you send more to their graves? Before you kill Sasha? Jean? How long before you kill Mikasa? Eren?' The menacing voice boomed throughout his head.
The teen's breath hitched at the mention of broken, hoarse sobs slipped passed his lips as his small frame quaked.
"What if it's true? What if I kill him?" Armin's crystal blue eyes grew wide, fear sending his fragile body into a fit of panic. "I couldn't live with the thought of it. I'll lose everything." Tears poured from the teen's eyes as he let out a loud, choked cry of agony. Just the thought of losing Eren made his heart ache and his eyes sting with tears; but to be the person to cause his death? That killed him inside.
It was damn near silent for the next passing minutes, the only sounds were that of Armin's sobs. The voice had ceased, lost amongst all the wandering thoughts. After several quiet moments, a soft, calm and distant voice filled his head. A familiar voice.
'It isn't too late, Armin,' the soft voice spoke, 'you can stop it before it even begins.'
What once was wide, fearful blue eyes, were now closed sorrowful orbs. He saw nothing but black. But slowly, as the voice spoke, an image started to take place.
Deep, vibrant green eyes. That's all he needed to picture before his eyes snapped open.
"I can end it.. Before I kill Eren?" Red, puffy blue eyes glanced around the room.
Moonlight shone throught the room's single window. It perfectly illuminated his small bed and wooden nightstand beside him.
Looking at the nightstand, a reflection of lgiht caused the shattered teen to squint, looking for what caused the single ray of light to momentarily blind him.
At the foot of his bed sat his gear for battle. Light was perfectly reflecting off the chipped metal of his blades.
'You can put an end to the pain you've caused.'
Without a second thought, the blonde crawled to the edge of the bed, his mind and body numb as he picked up the damaged sword.
He stared at the his reflection in the metal. His once blue, crystal clear eyes now red, swollen orbs from his pitiful crying. His pale, thin cheeks were tear streaked; soft pink lips chapped and split. Blonde locks were knotted and twisted upon his small head like a torn mop. His voice was hoarse, and the blade in his hands shook as new tears threatened to spill over once more.
Armin Arlert was a complete wreck.
Before he could stop himself, the broken child brought the cold blade down on his thin, pale wrists.