SINA TRIBUNE - 9/26
On Wednesday, September 23, Eren Jaeger, the sole survivor of a car crash that claimed not only one of his legs, but the lives of two friends, was found unconscious by his mother. The Shinganshina Police Department report that Eren Jaeger: aged 17, had overdose from bottle of painkillers. At the time, he was still in the midst of physical and psychological treatment, and it is likely mental illness was one of the causes. He is currently in stable condition.
If you have thoughts of suicide, confidential help is available for free at the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline. Call 1-800-273-8255. Their line is available 24 hours, every day.
Oct. 2
"When we get home, I am so chopping off that mane of yours," Carla Jaeger said to her son as she rolled him down the halls of St. Rose hospital.
"..."
"I'm taking that as a yes."
"Sure." Eren shrugged.
Carla frowned. "You're not even going to ask how short you want it? I could've just buzzed it all off. Can't imagine you'd like that."
Eren didn't reply to his mother's attempt to humor him, although he appreciated the attempt to lift his spirits. Even though he wasn't in the mood for conversation, her wheeling him through the hospital halls made him almost feel like a kid again.
However, despite the spacious, sterile and elegantly decorated halls he was being pushed through, Eren felt strangely claustrophobic, his chest seeming to tighten as they got closer and closer to the exit. It was the same sensation he got when he'd first left the hospital a month ago, the phantom pain he felt as he began his first days with his new left leg. A reminder of what he couldn't forget, that he wasn't going to escape from this life so easily.
He inhaled, counting one, two, three… then exhaled slowly like he'd been taught. He'd picked up the anxiety relieving exercise from his time in therapy, though it didn't help as much as he'd thought it would. Nor did it distract from the lingering thoughts that made him want to stop breathing altogether. Still, it made him feel like he'd won a small battle of the daily war he raged with the world around him.
After checking out at the information desk, they could finally leave. The skies that day were grey and cloudy, sure to soon break into a fall shower, but Eren thought the weather overall was nicer than it had been for a long while. Their sedan wasn't far away. It no longer took Eren any effort to shuffle himself into the front passenger seat having gotten fairly accustomed to use of his temporary prosthetic leg without as much of an issue. When he finally sat down, the scent of the cinnamon air freshener filled his nostrils; while it was a bit overwhelming, he greatly preferred it to the citrus disinfectant that his hospital room seemed to be bathed in.
"Eren..." Carla bit her lip and paused for a moment, looking down at the wheel of the car. "I don't know how to break this to you, but...you look like a pirate."
"...What?"
"You look like you belong in a Pirates of the Caribbean movie. The hair and fake leg doesn't help at all," Carla said with a chuckle. "Are you planning to keep it that long?"
Eren couldn't help but smile. He pondered it quietly, given he hadn't put much thought to it in a while. He had naturally let it grow since he'd stopped caring long a long time ago, but if it really bothered his mother...
"Should I? You don't think pirates are cool?"
"No, but you look more like a hobo than a pirate, if I'm being honest. And I don't think either look flatters you," Carla replied bluntly but in obvious jest, a subtle warmness to her tone. She was trying to be considerate, after all.
Eren flipped down the car mirror and looked at the face staring back at him. He barely recognized himself. Gaunt, tired eyes slightly hidden by hair that was already touching his shoulders. He desperately needed to shave. He didn't just have a mustache, he had scruff peppered all over his lower jaw. To be honest, he'd known he didn't look magazine cover worthy for a long time. He just didn't care.
Their drive home breezed at a steady pace, though they did encounter some traffic on the way. Even during the afternoon rush hour, however, the traffic never lasted long in the area they lived in, and before he knew it, they were already pulling onto the driveway of their little townhouse in Shiganshina.
Much to his surprise, he had visitors to welcome him home. Though if he had to he honest, the sight of Mikasa already sitting on the doorsteps wasn't much of one. That meant Armin was nearby as well. They were both his oldest and closest friends, having known each other since pre school. Knowing that they were here filled him with warmness, though he was a little anxious at what they might say to him. Perhaps he would be at the receiving end of one of Mikasa's famous roundhouse kicks? He deserved nothing less for what he must have put them through.
Once the car had parked, he slowly got out, bracing himself on the passenger door frame as Mikasa got up and walked to him.
"Oh Eren," she greeted. She was clad in her usual all black getup, as if she was ready to head to a goth rave at a moment's notice. Her little pigtails tickled his cheek as she embraced him.
"Mikasa," Eren said. "I'm-"
"Don't. It's okay. You don't have to apologize for anything," Mikasa insisted, her voice soft, as if he had merely gotten a paper cut, even though what he'd actually done to himself was much, much worse. "Armin's here too."
"You both didn't go to school today?" Eren said, confused. "Why?"
Mikasa gave him one of her rare, bright eyed smiles, eyes twinkling with joy. "Because we missed you, dummy. You were asleep every time we went over. We wanted to be the first to see you."
Eren managed a tiny grin. "Sorry about that, the drugs they had me on either had me loopy as fuck or out col—"
"EREN!" Eren nearly toppled backward from the force of his other best friends' hug. Armin Arlert might've been the shortest and weakest guy in their class, but that didn't stop him from being able to deliver a crushing bear hug. Somehow he hadn't noticed him arrive from the front door.
"Oh my god, Eren," Armin cried, in a manner that Eren hadn't witnessed since they were in kindergarden.
His felt his shoulder dampen from Armin's tears, but just hoped that his friend wasn't getting snot onto his shirt. "There's no need to cry, man."
But Armin just sobbed even harder. "Asshole." He pounded his small fists into Eren's back as he continued to cry. "You… never do that again, you hear?"
Eren smiled, allowing himself to relax into his friend's embrace. He should've known they would've waited at home for his; they were his closest friends after all. He didn't bother asking whether they did well on their exams: there was no way they could've, not while he was still drugged up and constantly being checked on.
The three of them made their way back into his home together, where Carla had already brought out oatmeal raisin cookies for the three of them to eat in the living room. His father would've been there to greet him as well had he not been scheduled to perform a root canal, though that didn't bother Eren in the slightest. He was dreading the moment when they would have to talk anyway.
While his mother cleared out the kitchen, he, Mikasa and Armin made their way up to his room, as they usually did when they came over. Eren had the privilege of having a very spacious bedroom. He'd cleaned it out the day before he'd decided to pick up a pen and write what he'd presumed would be the last thing he'd ever write: his note. Part of him wondered whether or not Armin would've even accepted his blu-ray and game collection as a parting gift. Though he knew better than to ask.
Mikasa and Armin took their seats on the two gaming recliners on the floor, while Eren booted up the Xbox for their usual round of Halo 5. "Carla's already signed you up with Levi every Saturday," Mikasa said as they waited for the game to load.
"Oh really?," Eren said. He hadn't had sessions with Levi since freshman year. "Am I still doing appountments with Miss Ral?" Miss Ral, was his school counselor who he'd been checking up on him while he'd been at school, since he'd insisted he didn't need psychological help. Obviously, his parents felt that was no longer the case.
"Miss Ral isn't a certified psychiatrist. And don't worry, he'll go easy on you," Mikasa reassured. "He'll be a lot easier on you anyway since you've been his patient before. Carla would kill him if he didn't."
Eren managed a chuckle. The wrath of his sweet, kind mother could make anyone quake in fear. "We'll see."
"And if it still doesn't go well…" Armin added nervously. "You can talk to us too."
Eren shook his head. "There's not much we can talk about anyway."
But Armin wouldn't drop it. "Eren," he said, eyes suddenly stern and serious. "You told us that before, and look what happened after. You shouldn't have to feel guilty anymore. All that hurt, that pain...I'm scared of what will happen if we ignore it again."
That's not true… Eren thought, wincing at the memory it brought up. Nervousness. Panic.
Blood, spilling from his head, a spring that sapped the life out of him as he screams...
And the price he paid for not being there when needed. They'll never forgive me if I told them the truth.
"I just want to move on with my life, okay?" He had to drive the conversation elsewhere. They would have to stop bugging him eventually, right? "I thought you said you didn't even expect me to apologize."
The doorbell rang. Eren ignored the sound, knowing his mother would answer it.
"That's not what it's about, Eren." Armin placed a hand on Eren's shoulder. "We just want to know-"
"EREN!" Carla bellowed from downstairs. "I gotta leave to pick up some stuff. But, there's someone here who would like to speak to you?"
"Coming!" Eren sighed and got up from his bed. Mikasa and Armin followed not far behind him. He was glad he no longer needed to talk to either of them, he didn't need anymore on his plate.
Downstairs, outside the opened front door, waited a girl around his age. About five feet tall, clad in what appeared to be clothing streaked with specks of mud she seemed to be a stranger. That was, until her identity hit him like a train.
It was as if his mind had completely shut down. For a moment he stood at the foot of the stairs, frozen in shock that the person he'd thought he'd never see again was standing in his house right before him.
"H-Hi Eren."
His hand sears from the spilled coffee on it. The skin tingles, red as a beet. Today the air conditioning has broken down, which doesn't help the heat at all.
Yet somehow that's not holding his attention now.
She's got the most piercing pair of eyes he'd ever seen. There's a haughty, icy coolness in her cerulean orbs of blue, as if they can see straight into his soul. Which makes up for the fact that she isn't tall enough to reach his chin.
"Hello!" she snarls. "Are you deaf?"
Eren finally blinks. Comes to his sense. And then realizes just how large the brown stain on her white blouse really is. Some of his coffee has left speckles of brown splattered on her nametag, which reads: Historia Reiss.
Historia gives him a look that says, you're so fucking dead. "They only give us one uniform, you know," she adds.
It's only the second day of the Orchestra Program he was attending for the summer, but off to a good start, he isn't.
"I know this must be quite a surprise," she greeted shyly, twiddling her thumbs in a nervous manner.
The gears in his head started grinding again as soon as the memory washed over him. Every memory of her, including the way she looked, passed through his thoughts, ignited by the pure surprise and unbridled shock of see her in the flesh before him. Her hair, the ridiculously soft locks of blonde he'd had the pleasure of taking in his hands. Her elegant, beautiful features matched with striking cerulean eyes.
But those eyes were now baggy, tired, and the rest her face lacked the usual ratty looking windbreaker and navy jeans stained with mud streaks added to her haggard appearance. She'd clearly hadn't had much of a good night's sleep in quite some time.
"Historia..." he breathed, not quite believing she was really there.
"Eren…" she said, so softly she might as well have whispered it. Even the sound of her voice seemed foreign to him. "Wow…you look…different." She blushed shyly, her eyes dropping to her feet. "I heard about what happened on the news...are you doing alright?"
"Yeah," Eren said. "As well as I can be." "Uh…just what are you doing here? Have you been alright?"
Historia gave a small smile, rubbing her arm nervously. "I'm just tired. It took me a week to find where you lived. Well, not exactly where you lived, since my sister ended up moving here too. But it took a while to make sure I wasn't caught. It's been a long ride. I'm probably on the missing person's list already."
"Wait...aren't you the Congressman's daughter?" Armin suddenly asked from behind Eren. "You're Rod Reiss's kid, aren't you? I remember when it was on the news that your father took you in."
"Yeah…" Historia agreed, though Eren noticed she said it with gritted teeth. "Feels like eons ago."
"This is Armin and Mikasa, by the way." Eren gestured to his childhood friends next to him. "I met Historia at the State Musical camp over the summer," he explained to them. "She's a friend. The only friend I made there, actually. Gosh, you should come in, it's chilly," he said to Historia.
She nodded."I can barely feel my toes," she said with a chuckle, even though Eren knew that was no laughing matter. He had too many questions to ask her. What on earth happened to her? Did her father know where she was? What was she doing so far away from home?
Once they were all inside, Eren shit the door and motioned toward the couch. As the others seated themselves, he walked over to the kitchen and grabbed three porcelain cups as well as an orange juice carton from the fridge. He wasn't thirsty, but he figured Historia probably was.
"Thanks, Eren." Historia said as she took the cup of juice he poured for her."I heard about the accident...was that why you haven't answered my texts? I was so worried."
"Yeah." His phone had been reduced to splinters, along with most of his left leg. "Thank you for worrying though. I'm doing alright."
Historia nodded, but didn't speak. An uncomfortable silence followed as they sat, drinking their juice. Historia seemed to consume hers as if it were the most delicious drink in the world. What on earth could have happened to you?
Eventually Eren decided to finally speak his mind. "So what are you doing here?"
Historia gulped, but put down her cup. She relaxed back into the sofa cushions and didn't make eye contact with anything except her hands. "I…honestly wanted to tell you this alone. But, to be honest your friends will find out eventually, so…"
"We'll still keep it secret if you want." Armin said, smiling. "Right, Mikasa?"
"Sure." Mikasa gave a curt nod and poured herself a cup of water.
Historia drummed her fingers on the couch armrest. Her mouth had curled into a frown, and there was fear in her eyes. Eren wasn't sure he wanted to know what she was hiding.
"Well…" She sighed, and inhaled deeply in hesitation. "To make a long story short...I-I'm pregnant."
The gears in his head shut down completely. Eren leaned back, reeling, and would've cursed aloud had he not been distract by the sound of Mikasa choking on her drink.
"S-Sorry," she managed to let out in between coughs.
"Holy shit," Armin exclaimed quite loudly, eyes as wide as frisbees.
"Jesus, Armin," Eren patted Mikasa's back as she sputtered liquid from her nostrils. He had to fight the urge not to chuckle; he hadn't expected her reaction to be that explosive. "It's not like you're the father. But…"
He tried to recall as much as he could of that night. "Didn't we take...precautions?" His face heated in embarrassment.
"I think the condom I used might've been expired. Or torn, haha," Historia chuckled even though there was nothing that Eren found humorous about it. "And gosh, you shouldn't be afraid of saying that word, Eren." Historia said with a giggle and a grin. "We're all grown up here, aren't we?"
In the corner of his eye, Eren saw Armin give his familiar and irritable boyyy you're sooo in trouble smile. He was surprised Historia was even in the mood to joke after revealing her news.
Thankfully, Mikasa managed to stop coughing and immediately said, "So…your father kicked you out? He didn't even force you to get an abortion or anything?"
Historia nodded. "I wouldn't be here if he didn't."
"Jesus…" Armin shook his head in awe. "Rod Reiss was already enough of a jerk in politics, but I guess it's no surprise he's still one outside of that too."
"It's not…" Historia stopped, as if she wasn't sure if she wanted to say what she was about to. "He's still dealing with losing all this family."
Eren's gut twisted as he recalled what his mother had told him a few years ago. When he was around nine or ten years ago, Senator Reiss's family had been involved in a horrible car crash. He hadn't been in the car at the time, but the entire state had been in a state of mourning for him. Even his most adamant political opponents paid their respects.
He'd formally taken custody of Historia not long after. Historia's mother had become the victim of an accidental drug overdose, and Rod was given no choice but to take her in. One would think the bond between father and daughter would strengthen, but it seemed that wasn't the case.
Eren stopped patting Mikasa's back once she stopped coughing, but now her face was locked in an expression of complete shock. It was almost as if she'd found out she was pregnant. But whether she was angry, disgusted, or concerned, Eren didn't have a clue. Which was odd, because, Mikasa wasn't so difficult to read despite how much she tried not to show her emotions. That was how much he knew her.
"That shouldn't excuse it," Armin said, grimacing in disgust. "Hasn't he gone to a psychiatrist or something?"
"It doesn't matter now," Historia said. "Whatever happens, I have someone to take care of me now. My sister's agreed to take me in."
"Sister?" Eren asked. "Did Rod have another illegitimate child besides Historia?"
"No," Historia said. "She left home when she graduated high school, about a year before the accident. They've haven't talked since. It wasn't easy to find her. She changed her name to Frieda Lenz, and luckily she lives in the same town you do. She used to come by my mom's and babysit me when I was super young. She was surprised when I told her I wanted to see her, but…I figured I'd stop by here first."
She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. He and his friends must've looked intimidating, waiting for her to spill her story. Eren suddenly had the urge to hug her hard, still in awe that she was here, in the flesh, in his home. Instead, he poured her a cup of orange juice. "Are you alright? Seriously…I can't imagine what you've had to go through…"
"It's fine. I'm just…" Historia sniffed, inhaling deeply. "Oh God …"
As she burst into tears, Eren immediately went over and embraced her. Armin and Mikasa veered their eyes to the floor, clearly uncomfortable. Eren didn't care.
"Hey, it's okay…"
"Fuck, Eren," Historia choked. "I haven't been able to sleep since I left that night. I was worried I wouldn't be able to find her—god, I'm such a mess..."
I understand, Historia, Eren thought as he held her, allowing his shoulder to be drenched with her tears. I understand.
"So when are you gonna tell your parents?" Mikasa asked some time later.
"As soon as they get home," Eren replied as he grabbed the pitcher from the countertop, pouring the water into a cup. He took one long, much needed sip. "It's not like I can keep this secret for long anyway."
"No shit," Mikasa said, which caught Eren off guard. It was not very like her to curse.
At least Historia hadn't been upset for too long. After she essentially ran out of tears, Armin had offered to find something on Netflix for them to watch, presumably to try to cheer her up a little. Historia would be waiting for at least another two hours until her older sister returned home from work. Given how long she usually took to shop, Carla wouldn't be back for another three. His friend managed to keep Histoia in less dour spirits by talking about the show they were currently watching, and judging from the laughing he'd heard, it was working. Eren and Mikasa had decided to finish off the last few boxes of macaroni and cheese they had in the closet.
Mikasa turned on the faucet, waiting for the hot water to fill into the pot she'd prepared. "But that's the least of your worries right now. What are you planning to do about it?"
"Support her, I guess?" he replied. Wasn't that the most noble thing to do? He couldn't imagine allowing her to deal with any of this alone.
"How is that going to work?" Mikasa flicked off the water and put her hands on her hips in a very manner that reminded him of his mother when she grilled him about failing a test. "You're entering senior year. You haven't decided what colleges you want to apply to. You don't even have a job, yet somehow you're so certain you can support a baby."
"I'll figure it out."
"Easier said than done."
"We don't even know yet what she wants to do with the kid, or even keep it." Eren sighed deeply. He didn't feel like talking anymore. A sinking feeling; hunger, or perhaps something else deeper, had taken root in his belly. Every word that poured out of his mouth just made the sensation worse. "I just don't want to put her under any more stress than I already have."
"To be honest," Mikasa said in a soft voice. "This might be good for you."
Eren raised an eyebrow. "How so?"
Mikasa shrugged. "Whether she has the baby or not, this'll be something that can keep your mind off of, well..."
"Maybe," Eren said, knowing that the night of the accident would not leave him for a long, long time. Living with the lie was something he was going to have to work out for himself.
There was no way he could even let a hint of the truth slip from his mind. It would ruin everything he'd worked so hard to build and maintain with his family and friends… there was no way they would trust him again. He couldn't live with himself if that came to be.
Right now, with Mikasa beside him, the familiar temptation to let it all loose rose within him again. Mikasa Ackerman, the girl he'd known ever since he was ten, who'd always been there whenever he needed a helping hand and an attentive ear. The urge was suffocating, like being smothered in pungent bedsheets.
Instead, they continued to cook in silence.