A/N TW: Blood & Suicidal thoughts
Chapter 2 - Jean
There's blood. Blood everywhere. Filling my lungs, seeping out of every crevice, out of every pore. But then there's Marco, beautiful, perfect Marco. His body unharmed, heavenly, radiating a comforting aura that no longer exist in this broken and brutal world. I reach out to him, my hand trembling. I felt my lips curl up into a smile as I moved closer to him, tears streaming down my face as his head moved into my cradled hand. My thumb caressed his flawless freckled cheek and just as he begins to smile I feel everything change. There's blood again, crawling down his pale skin, and a sharp pain in my wrist that hits me like a brick. I watch as he devours me, his surprisingly sharp teeth rip and pull at my flesh. I scream and cry out for help, for anyone to come save me, but I eventually give in, letting him take me into the dark, letting the life drain out of me without a single fight. It's As if... I want him to kill me.
I woke up in a cold sweat, just like I did almost every night. I've gotten used to dreams like this. Ever since Marco died, it's practically been the same one every night. As I sat up, I tried to take in my surroundings. I looked around at the sleeping bunch of teens and somewhere deep down inside of me, I wish we had all died alongside Marco. None of us have any idea what it means to live in this world, not even Mikasa, and especially not Eren. We just travel from one abandoned house to another, narrowly avoiding those creatures on the way. When in reality it's no use. Death is inevitable. I just wished we had known that back then... back when Marco had died. If he had killed me, at least I would have died with something left inside me. If I were to die now, I don't think I'd feel a thing. I feel like an empty shell that's just mindlessly following our daily routine. As if I'm a Zombie that just hasn't met the gratitude of Deaths hand yet. I've thought about taking my own life, multiple times, but whenever I get the barrel of the gun inside my mouth, Marco is the only thing I can think of. Him scolding me for reacting the way I am. Him telling me to keep on living even though he can't. I want to be able to do it for him, to live my life till my demise finds me, but how can I even begin to when all I can picture is his head, blown to bits on the floor in front of me. This isn't the way I want to live.
"Jean..? Hey- are you alright?" The moment I heard Connie's voice in my ear, I realized that I had begun crying somewhere during my thoughts. Relatively loudly it seemed if I had woken up one of the heaviest sleepers in the group, although, it could have just been because he had been lying next to me.
"Yeah." I tried desperately to sound fine, to sound tough and sturdy. But my voice had deceived me, making me sound more along the lines of a pathetic, dying seal.
"You don't gotta lie to me, man. I know the last few weeks have been nothin' but shit…" I watched in the dim light as Connie looked away from me, as if to compose himself.
"But Marco wouldn't have wanted us to be like this, ya' know?" I heard his voice crack, just as mine had a few minutes prior. I tried to maintain my strong demeanor, however; my face had softened beyond my control at the mention of Marcos name.
"I mean… hell…Sasha barely speaks anymore… even Ymirs insults have sort of stopped…and I never thought I'd say it, but damn do I miss it." He paused with a sigh as he looked back into my eyes with his own glassy ones. He continued with a simple:
"I just wish everything could go back to normal." Which for whatever reason sent me over the edge. I wanted to talk with him, about how I'd been feeling, but I couldn't bring myself to. Instead my first instinct was to stiffen my features and yell at the poor guy, who was only trying to express his feelings to me.
"Well, we can't Connie. We can never go back to normal. So stop thinking about it." I growled beyond my control and stood up, wiping the tears that had formed in my eyes and making my way away from the group to leave myself with my thoughts. I felt awful for the way I had just yelled at him, but I would've felt loads worse if I had let him into my twisted mind. I found my way into the dusty dining room of the deserted house we had claimed as our own for the night and plopped into a rickety old chair, cradling my head in my hands as I tried to keep the tears to a minimum. Connie was right, of course, about how Marco wouldn't have wanted it this way, but I couldn't help it. I couldn't help but feel guilty for letting him die. All I kept thinking was: It should've been me. I should've protected him. And I was right. Everyone loved Marco, he was like a saint among us misfits, so why did he have to be the one that died? If It had been me, everyone would be okay. They'd be able to go back to normal, and Marco would be able to live out the life he deserved. It wasn't fair. But then again, nothing in this world was fair.
A/N I don't know why but I like the idea of switching povs and keeping the chapters short. It's different than what im used to so I'm gunna try it. Please don't forget to review! I'd lovvvvvvveeeeee to hear some feedback!
