Guest: I appreciate your comment! I too think that this fic is a rarity in a large realm of fan fiction. It's like that by design.

ikanisfish: ikanisfish-kun, I too try to see the world in a positive light and try to believe that the current military in all our countries has improved in morals. Nonetheless, this story shows what one perspective can be. To answer your question, I came up with the idea of Heinrich going to war when I was writing chapter 10-12 back in April of this year. I've thought quite far ahead of what I've actually written.

Sorry for such a long chapter! Around chapter 15 or 16 I established a plan that details the goals of each chapter until chapter 30. I write as much as I need to complete the goal listed for each chapter. At the same time though I aim for 2700-3000 words. If it goes past that, then it becomes 5400-6000.

***QUICK NOTE: I'M DONE USING ITALICS FOR DIALOGUE. IT'S GROWN QUITE IRRITATING FOR ME***

An Eldian's Journal

Wartime Shenanigans

Chapter 29: Choice

"…who will you choose?"

Commander Magath's question molded itself in the air among the crying of family members, red confusion of strangers, and the caws of the crow-like siren. All of it came together to form a drink made of sweaty cement and crackly grime. It was poured into a skull and served with a rotten cherry on top—Magath's question.

It was the recipe for a despicable cocktail.

So, I slurped the percolating cement and chewed on the grime to find myself shattered in attention between numerous sensations. It punished me.

Then came the cherry.

The question.

"I…I… don't know-"

"When you figure it out, go to the…."

Commander Magath, in all the ruckus he caused, how could you so calmly tell me those instructions? Were we that beneath you in your eyes that we weren't even worth making you nervous?

It took a while for the noises to drain from the basement and the bomb siren to cease its crowing. Upon the ending, everyone went up the stairs with muck in their minds and sideways glimpses at me. Then there was Commander Magath. He walked up the stairs one step at a time, so unaffected by what happened as if destroying a soul was a routine for him.

The Grinch lifted the cabbage man, and her one-armed son helped as well. The cabbage's eyes trembled beneath their eyelids as if the world was too cold for them, and they were too scared to see it again. Alas, the eyes held their breath and took off their winter coats. They froze on me as I was going up the stairs.

I turned away.

All the Eldians strangers left my house, including Mr. Kruger. In all the tension of that night, I barely noticed any of his reactions. Then again, he literally couldn't react to anything. The duo of military men, the Dasslers, and my family stayed on the 1st floor.

Reiner stood with a bent neck, avoided eye contact with anyone, and looked vacant while staring off into the floor. It was as if he was trying to make himself look smaller. For Magath, the network of lines on his face stayed reserved like an undisturbed crow silently chewing on the dead. A silent superiority.

Magath gave me some further instructions before Reiner, and he headed out. My parents sat on the couch after closing the door. Their minds must have been vacant stalls, empty since they were unsure of what to do next.

The question still stood as I climbed the steps. Who would I choose?

Viktor brought up the point. "Heinrich, you need to nominate two people. You already nominated one person, what about the other?"

"I didn't nominate anyone yet."

"Well, I'm going of course."

Lina interjected immediately. "You're not going."

I looked over at my parents then back to the siblings. "Let's talk about this outside." I opened the door, but mama and papa kept with their empty pondering. For once, they didn't acknowledge that we opened the door.

When we walked outside, we noticed the grumbles of random citizens. The gossip must have spread already of what happened in my basement. A sniffle was trapped in Lina's nose as if she was preparing to cry.

"Heinrich, this combat medic position is exactly what you were talking about that one bomb siren day when you broke that homeless guy's guitar."

"I remember…I didn't think it would actually come true…." I was disarmed by the relative lack of sadness Viktor exhibited, especially after he said 'he hated' Reiner after all the direct and indirect trouble he caused. He had reasons to be angry, not as much as me, but still.

Lina forced us to sit on the steps, and she added to the conversation. "So, who're you going to nominate?"

My brain opened the book of characters that I met throughout the streets and species of dust in Section F. There was Fred (one of the gang members), the 'warhammer' (he had an actual name, but it was just too dull), and the other gang members. Lina even crossed my mind, but I took it out when I realized females can only be soldiers in the warrior candidate faction. The standard military procedure doesn't allow female soldiers in any other section.

But Viktor was still the best option. The reason? He was the person I knew the most out of the gang members. Sure, he didn't really have any skills outside of throwing mediocre punches, but…you know what, I don't explain myself to you.

I did have to explain myself to Lina, though.

"I'll choose Viktor." Viktor nodded in acceptance; I was confused by how understanding he was in that situation. Lina shook her head vigorously in unacceptance.

Lina: "If he's gone, who's going to clean the house?"

Viktor shot back. "There has to be a better reason not to go than cleaning a house!"

"I don't want to be alone, dammit!" She flipped her furious look at both of us. "Have you fools thought for one second who you would leave behind…Ricky, I didn't see you bat an eye when Commander Magath said your papa is conscripted as well."

"Well-"

Viktor intruded. "Lina, what do you think is going to happen if Heinrich can't find two other people to join him? Sure, Magath says it's a special opportunity but who knows what that guy would do if Heinrich doesn't accept it."

One tear tripped from her eyelid, and as it slid down the diamond face, more came as a fleet of soldiers and then hid in the dimples of her cheeks. The tears were armed with machine guns, and they tore away at me, making a scene. "…please… don't take my little brother away from me."

I looked around, and people were staring at us; their stares were an audience sitting on chairs waiting for the drama to climax. I thought Lina was above making a scene to get what she wanted, but no, she was just like other girls in that case.

"I'm sorry, Lina. But I'm choosing him." My sentence lacked a backbone. It was a simple string of words that dealt a blow to the girl's heart, nonetheless.

I expected her to slap me, but instead, she grabbed my forehead and banged the back of my head against the wall. The wound from before reignited as she ran back home. Despite blanking out for a second, I noticed people turning away, acting as if they weren't watching.

I touched the back of my head.

No blood. Thankfully.

Instead of comforting his sister, Viktor walked right past his house and dragged me along with him. I guess we didn't have souls; after all the punches, we probably beat them out of each other. I subconsciously employed different goals to replace that blankness. Viktor probably replaced it with punches like always.

"Let's find the last person," Viktor said.

So, we headed to the houses of the other gang members, rounded them all up, and headed to the boxing ring basement. "What's going on?" Each one of them asked when we knocked at each one of their doors. Viktor replied, "It's a secret. Let's go to the basement." He grew rather tired of explaining, however, so that rapidly became, "Let's go to the basement, or I'm going to beat you right here."

Upon reaching the basement, the walls closed in on us as if they were eavesdropping. The circle of gang members closed in like a knot; Viktor built the tension of the secret rather tightly, after all.

"So, what's the big deal?" Fred asked. "Did you get a girlfriend, Viktor?"

Viktor opened his mouth in preparation to answer, but I said it myself. It was my secret to tell. "I just got conscripted."

They reacted as you would expect. Eyes and mouths opened; it's not much different than what I described before numerous times.

"But h-how?" The 'warhammer' asked.

Viktor and I stumbled on our words as we talked over each other. I kept talking, hoping he would stop, but he probably thought of doing the same thing. Thankfully, one of the gang members told Viktor to shut up, and I recited the events in the various colors they presented to me.

It was just like the time I recited the events of my shooting and the deception of the journalist. Unlike before, all the events this time around tasted like acid rather than just a few of them.

Upon the ending of it, Fred said. "Damn. I actually feel bad for that cabbage man for once." He wobbled to his knees; a few fists landed on the ground. "But, Heinrich, who's the 3rd person?"

"I'm not sure yet."

"That's why you called us all over, didn't you? You wanted to ask us away from our parents."

Viktor answered for me. "You guys aren't as foolish about the military as most people are here but-"

Fred interrupted. "Why didn't you ask other people? You know there's other people that would fall for that 'honorary marleyan' promise."

"It's because we know you guys the best…now come on…who wants to be the third?" I could hear a tinge of desperation in his voice on the final sentence.

The sleeping crickets and cicadas answered for us in place of the gang members. Fred finally said, "You guys aren't giving us much of an argument as to why we should risk out lives out there."

Viktor was defeated, and he knew it. He turned away from the group and pulled at my shoulder. He whispered, "Let's leave...we can find someone else."

I swore under my breath and took a step up on the staircase. With each step, I was hoping for one of my friends to say, 'I'll help.' But I didn't hear it until I reached the very top step where the lamp light lost its reach.

"I'll join." The 'warhammer' insisted.

Viktor and I turned back. "Really?"

"I have a sister at home she can take care of my parents."

We didn't question any further but instead celebrated to ourselves in the darkness of the top step. "Thanks." That word wasn't enough to summarize how grateful we were. "Thanks, Kurt."

That was the name of the 'warhammer,' Kurt.

XXX

After we found our third member, all three of us walked to section F the following day. Commander Magath told me that I would have to get medically screened along with the other people I chose.

I ask while sifting through my file. "Do you guys have the papers? The identification? Stuff like that?"

The boys let out a synchronized 'yea.'

Viktor: "Kurt, are your parents allowing you to do this?"

"Yea, how else would I have gotten the papers?"

As we wandered over to section F with our documents resting under our armpits, we discussed the oddity of the situations presented to us over the past few days. Why did a titan shifter randomly turn up at my home? Why was there a military commander as well?

Viktor asked me while checking over his documents. "Heinrich, I still don't get it. Why did that dumbass Reiner visit your home? You're not that special. And why isn't he out on the battlefield?"

"Well…" Aside from the slight verbal jab, his question required some pondering. "I doubt the military wants to play all their best cards in the beginning. I guess it's the same with the Commander as well." Upon mentioning Reiner, I thought back to how he flipped the events of what transpired on that shooting day.

Viktor noticed that I grew silent for a bit. "Hey, why'd you become so quiet all of a sudden?"

"I still don't get. Why did Reiner lie about the fact that I shot him?"

Maybe he thought that if he made you look like a hero, you would get a unique chance to serve in the military. Maybe he did all that to force you into the war."

Kurt entered with his blunt truth. He had a tendency to keep things to the point without bullshitting. It was like a fresh cut. "Your situation makes no sense, Heinrich. It just seems so unnatural." He took a pause. "You have to think of another possibility. What if Reiner never told the higher ups anything, but they got the information from someone else."

Viktor walked in front of me and blocked my path. "Who else did you talk about this to other than the gang, and your parents?"

"I didn't tell anyone else." I started thinking rapidly, trying to backtrack to remember who I might have spilled it to. "I-I didn't tell anyone else!"

Why did you lie to them, Heinrich?

You told Walter Kruger, the street-dweller.

The realization liquidated into glue and pasted me onto the sidewalk. The thought of Mr. Kruger ratting me to the officers outweighed the over-looming fact that I was conscripted.

I wanted to change the subject, so I started acting like my head was hurting again. They apparently caught the bait. "You alright?"

"Yea…"

"When we become combat medics, if some girl bashes your head against the wall, you can fix yourself up. "Viktor let out a slight chuckle but swiftly covered it up.

"Why are you acting so…chirpy today?" Kurt asked Viktor.

"I guess it still hasn't hit me yet. The fact that we're going to war, I mean. Or maybe I just feel safe being a medic because of the slight immunity." I was used to Viktor's pessimism when it came to the war, but I guess he was growing up.

"You guys look at this war stuff real different than most people." Kurt's face twitched momentarily. It was a quirk of his. "I've seen a lot of brainwashed people on some other streets. The government puts one heroic picture of an Eldian soldier on a flyer and people want to look like that guy."

I thought back to the one Lina met when I was helping her out with her laundry route. He seemed excited. "Why don't we think like them?"

"I can't believe I'm saying this…." Viktor slapped his face. "It's because of the cabbage man…the cautionary tales of his children stopped us from getting brainwashed… I guess his idiotic yelling was useful for once."

My mind drifted from the conversation as a familiar sight graced my view. It was the corner where I first met the golden boy, Falco. It dragged on my eyes, and it tugged the strings of my brain to make it shed a tear made of flash memories.

The boys carried on with the conversation. Kurt said, "There's another thing. Have you ever seen the combat medic position advertised on these posters?"

"No."

"Why do you think that is?"

"Well…" Viktor was stumped.

"People here think whoever kills the most enemies will become honorary marleyans…or war heroes even. There's no flare to being the one who injects morphine into people like war medics do. Hell, I don't think we will even be allowed to hold a gun."

"You know what, Kurt." Viktor unraveled a sigh. "You ruined the job for me. You make too much sense." The overdramatic fighter turned around and started walking away from us until I grabbed his shoulder.

Kurt retorted with another twitch and a dot of self-righteousness. "I'm one year older than you. What'd you expect?"

The fighter and the 'warhammer' kept with their bickering as I paid attention to the street names and the addresses posted onto the deck of cards that were the buildings. All those cards could get knocked down so easily by the black, seductive breath of a bomb.

The address numbers incrementally increased until we found the one we were seeking during the conversation. The building it belonged to was actually a medical building rather than a typical government building. Inside, it had the flavorful vomit of humans on the tongues that were the beds.

The door was open as if the building was welcoming us to be eaten.

Viktor put one devil claw in and faced me.

Viktor: "On that one basement day, you talked about how becoming a war medic was the easiest option if we were ever to join the military...I still find it odd that it actually ended up happening…."

"I was half-bluffing."

"And you half-weren't."

I remembered that Mr. Kruger was also in the basement that day.

XXX

***HOW TO BECOME A SOLDIER***
Step 1: Join the Queue

The undigested humans stood in lines across the main lobby; some lines contained 17-year-olds; some 18. some 19. some 20. some 21. You get the idea. They were waiting to be digested by the battlefield's unkind, refined taste buds that treasured suffering to satiate its hunger.

None were 15 year-olds, however.

A majority of the recruits in the room were in an odd stage of their lives. They weren't adolescents, but they weren't full adults yet, either. This 17-24 age range was what recruitment officers appeared to prey on since these people sought self-actualization. Viktor, Kurt, and I were outliers.

The pseudo-adults stood like mannequins, frozen from various things. Some were frozen with pride from the perception that they were getting a chance to make a name for themselves outside of the cage they grew up in. Others were frozen with angst and anxiety that they were forced to bear this burden thanks to conscription.

What I saw that day was snapshotted and pinned in a solid, wooden frame in the back of my head. This is since the antonymous reactions one could have about the war were shoved together in one room right before my eyes. It was similar to the antonymous responses to the islanders.

Either way, they were a bunch of ingredients waiting to be sliced and fed to the battlefield whether they wanted it or not.

"Next!" A man from a table called up the next person from the line.

Viktor, Kurt, and I got into line.

Without sparing a second, Viktor hopped in for a question. "Psst. Why are we wearing casual clothes while everyone else is wearing uniforms?"

I couldn't refrain from using some sarcasm. "Sorry Viktor, I forgot to ask Commander Magath for the dress code. It's not like I was watching the cabbage man almost die or anything."

Kurt retorted with. "Shut up, Viktor."

One of the meatheads waiting in line in front of us turned around. Through a loud whisper, he said. "This ain't high school, pipsqueaks. Fuck off." Some of the other guys chuckled.

Viktor said. "I feel like we're going to get this a lot, aren't we?"

"Yea."

The bald, rat-faced man at the table up front kept saying next, and soon enough, the boys and I were at the front. The man eyed us from top to bottom as if he was expecting some more height from us.

"This isn't an exam registration, kids. Get the hell outta here."

I replied. "Commander Magath conscripted me. And I nominated these guys to join."

"Yea, and my mom's Ymir Fritz." The rat-face snickered at his own joke, and the lady next to him didn't look all too pleased. She then explained something to him. "You guys are a special case huh? What is your Eldian ID?"

We showed our papers and got all that legal stuff sorted out.

The rat-face rubbed his nose and told us to walk down the hall to complete our physical examinations. As we walked down the hallway, we were visited by the all-welcoming scent of piss, amongst other things…

***HOW TO BECOME A SOLDIER***

Step 2: Pass a Series of Tests

Viktor: "Do you think there's a hot nurse in the office down there?"

Kurt: "Maybe that's how they keep guys from stressing out."

We opened the office door to find a man past his expiry date with a comb-over style haircut and military uniform. He sat at a desk with a book open.

"Dammit."

"I hate this job already."

A nurse came out from the back of the office with eye testing tools, measuring tools, and various other items. Worst of all, she had rubber gloves. Nothing ever good happens when they have rubber gloves.

"Never mind. I don't hate it so much."

"She's a solid 7.5 out of 10."

Ignoring our habit of female objectification, the eye candy nurse ordered us to do examinations one at a time. I was first, so the boys left the room and waited outside. The lady measured my height, checked my hearing, skin condition, and lungs, etc.

Lastly, the rubber gloves came into play.

"Take off your pants and underwear," the nurse said casually.

"Oh no."

Skipping the details, let's just say a physical examination involves ALL parts of your physique…The old geezer in the room kept his head low while writing numbers and measurements in the book while my manhood was being teased, or rather examined.

I walked out of the office while feeling satisfied for passing all the health tests but violated at the same time.

Viktor went in next. Kurt and I kept our ears against the wall to listen in on what was happening. After a minute passed, we assumed everything was going ok until we heard a girl scream.

"AHHH!"

Nope, it was just Viktor.

The fighter walked out of the office with his eyes shuttering and his hands over the groin. "My manhood…"

Kurt went in next and followed a similar procedure; at least, that's what we assumed. Viktor and I glued our ears onto the wall. Everything was going fine until we heard some aggressive breathing and wheezing.

"What do you think they're doing in there?"

"I don't think I wanna know."

Kurt walked out of the office after some minutes, but he avoided looking at us first. The old man followed shortly after.

"I have some news for you two…your friend here has asthma."

Viktor and I already knew. That's why Kurt was so easy to win against in a fight in the basement.

"I guess you two already knew." The guy gave the paper back to Kurt. "I can't let him participate like this. What good is a soldier that has trouble running?"

"I can be a strategist or a gunner staying in one place-"

The man ignored Kurt's protests. "Look you two, the bullet doesn't have sympathy…but I have some for him even as a Marleyan."

"Sir, Commander Magath conscripted me specifically. He told me to choose people that I trust. The proof is in the papers."

He let out a sigh; yet, it had a different weight from the ones I was accustomed to seeing. It had some murkiness to it as if the years provided him some clarity to the world but not his body. "If he dies, will it be the bullet or even a titan's fault? or your incompetence for even letting it all happen in the first place?"

He took our forms and stamped them with a seal of approval despite him disagreeing with the whole idea.

***HOW TO BECOME A SOLDIER***
Step 3: Make a Solemn Promise

We got out of our physical tests and were directed to a small waiting room. In it were two men and a table with books on top. The men's faces were carved from the clay of oppression-it was the same pair who abused Lina and me a few days before. I had to gulp the recognition down to even bear seeing them again. I glared at their boots. I could see the mud of the souls they stepped over.

"You look familiar. That bitch you had with you was against the military and here you are coming back to us again…like a dog. What irony."

Viktor and I bit our tongues. The pain was a good distraction; I learned from him well.

"Pick up those books."

We picked up the books, and our fingers rubbed the title touched by so many other people before. It was a religious text. The one that deals with a god that most of the world seems so intent on believing in. I've yet to meet said god, however, since he appears to be to hiding somewhere.

The one god we know that truly existed was a goddess, and she apparently brought more destruction to the world than anything else. However, I won't ever be able to meet her, or maybe I will in the PATHS. I'll have to make do with the imaginary version until then.

"Repeat after me. Make a solemn promise," the oppressor said.

The text of the foreign people's god held the letters of ancient knowledge that were preserved despite Eldia's tampering with the world. It was resilient, just like the people that likely tried to erase it.

"I'll faithfully defend our leader. His Heirs and successors…against all enemies."

"I'll faithfully defend our leader. His Heirs and successors…against all enemies."

"all Generals and Officers set over me…."

"all Generals and Officers set over me…."

We kept on and on with a promise I felt we were bound to break at some point. All vows and promises are broken at some point, aren't they? After finishing, we were kicked out, and another group of recruits headed in. A familiar face greeted us down the piss-reeking hallway as we left-the nurse. She gave she left us with an important task to complete: "All of you must get haircuts. One inch on top max is the regulation."

Viktor went out the main entrance while showing a middle finger off to the rat-faced man we met initially. "I don't have enough money for a haircut."

Kurt and I followed. "Your sister has enough money for those cigarettes. You definitely have enough for a basic haircut."

"What're you talking about? The cigarettes ARE the money."

XXX

The boys and I all went our separate ways for that day. I washed my mouth upon my arrival since I didn't want the words of the oath to build up as staining plaque on my teeth. I was left to my thoughts and my brooding parents afterward; I guess those two were staining in some way.

"Heinrich, you're back." The iron woman's face was caved in. It was peppered here and there with concern and anxiety, as one would expect from someone who had to prepare for a family departure.

She stood by my bedroom door and papa joined shortly after. "I have to go to a recruitment office too, soon…." His sentence wandered off, lost in the mild pain of the room. I felt their aching from my position on the bed.

Mama attempted to shake off the black crumbs of anxiety on her face and tried to emulate some force, some resolve as best as she could. "You need a haircut." I grabbed a strand of hair in an attempt to measure it with finger lengths.

Papa: "I don't have spare change right now though. And I don't really have much skills to do it myself either."

"You don't have any skills…fool…." Mama continued to emulate some strength, but it weakened at the edges like rusting metal. Papa left for the recruitment office, and mama went to the living room to blunder in her mental pain. She could have really used the alluring strums of a guitar.

I sat alone in my bedroom, wondering how to get my haircut without having to pay. I gave up and then met up with the boys in the evening. We were walking down the street and shooting ideas on how to get haircuts without paying.

Viktor: "I have an idea."

Kurt and I: "Oh no."

"Just hear me out. I have some scissors at home, and we can use water as a mirror."

"You don't have a mirror?"

"Lina sold it."

Apparently, saying Lina's name summoned the devil since we came across her running her errands. We hid behind a trash can to avoid confrontation.

I asked. "Viktor, is she still angry at us?"

"Yea, I saw her sharpening a knife in the kitchen earlier today."

"Wait, what?!"

Kurt: "Maybe's she's intent on selling your organs before you get a chance to even leave for training."

We rushed out from our position when we gathered a handful of odd looks pointed our way and when the coast was clear.

Kurt: "Maybe we should ask Lina to cut our hair."

Viktor: "She's literally preparing to slaughter someone. You're probably the top one on the hitlist, Heinrich."

Kurt: "Just look on the bright side. She's obviously handy with sharp things. That's helpful for cutting hair."

I countered with. "I should have persuaded Fred to join instead of you Kurt... I'd rather buy one of the cabbage man's cabbages than let that crazy woman touch my hair." (I was a tad too overdramatic with that one.)

Alas, we finished our evening "adventures" back in front of Viktor's home. We stared at the door the whole time, deciding what we should do next.

"Let's just ask her to see what happens."

"No."

"Viktor, it seems like you're more scared of your sister than the actual fact that you're going to war."

"I would be scared of her too." We heard this line from a voice that contained some maturity yet sounded too high to be one of the boys. We turned around to see that it wasn't one of the boys. It was the cigarette wielder herself. "Why are you idiots standing in front of the house like that? Were you hoping to see me undress through the windows or something?"

Ignoring the elephant-like question in our conversation, I threw in our goal. "We need haircuts."

She didn't even look in my direction, and I tasted the beginnings of the silent treatment. She replied while looking at Viktor instead. "You went to that recruitment office even when I told you not to, and you have the gall to ask me to give you a haircut?"

Viktor knew he screwed up. "Umm...yea.."

Lina walked into the home and slammed the door behind her as if to accentuate a point.

Kurt handed some advice. "Let's keep standing out here. Maybe it'll guilt trip her."

Viktor: "Maybe it won't."

"You're such a pessimist."

"What does that mean?"

We stood underneath the streetlight as it grew potency in the darkening day. The sun did its evening stretches before going to bed, and the moon went to brush its teeth in preparation for its duties. The November cold was tickling the skin under my coat.

I asked. "Wait, Viktor. Don't you have a key?"

"Oh yea, I do."

Upon our stupid realization, Lina opened the door and stood near it while keeping her face turned away from us. She seemed so adamant about not verbally forgiving us, but her actions conveyed otherwise.

All three of us walked in, with Lina following. I caught a view of Viktor's parents as they watched us permanently through their photo frame in monochrome. They appeared so indifferent to everything going on.

Lina pulled up with two wooden buckets of differing characteristics, and both equally

unconventional.

Viktor: "There's only two buckets here."

Lina went to get the scissors. "I'm glad you know how to count."

Kurt and I let out a reserved smirk and chuckle. We knew inside that we weren't going to get funny moments as often in the following weeks.

Lina came back with a pair of scissors. They were two, short fingers prepared to slice together; they had dabs of rust on them. "Here's the deal. If I cut your guys' hair, you have to clean the floor."

"Fine."

Viktor and Kurt sat on the buckets as I was left to observe the wonders of the hair artisan before me. Lina first took a cup of water and poured it all over Viktor's hair. He gasped under the sudden shock. "Hey! I could be drinking that!"

She then dug her fingers into the limp, chocolate hair, and whatever stuck above her fingers, she snipped without reluctance. It seemed like she knew what she was doing. Or so I thought. After a few minutes of the scissors circling Viktor's crowded scalp, Lina took a pause to observe her handiwork.

The hair was all different lengths.

Even the Grinch could cut hair better than her.

She let out a sarcastic "oh no."

Viktor: "Hey, is something wrong? Are you trying to get payback on me?"

Even the Grinch could cut hair better than her. (I guess that's why she had a barbershop.)

Lina proceeded with Kurt's hair as well, and the two boys on the buckets looked like a pair of plucked birds. Deforestation existed on their heads.

After finishing that, the evil girl grinned with the intent of an actual demon as she looked at me. "Come on now, bra stealer."

The boys got off the buckets, and I took their place, worried that she would damage me in some way if I didn't do as she said. Instead of pouring water first, she put her fingers in my hair. For the whole time they lingered on my scalp, I wondered if this was in preparation for squeezing my brains out.

She dug her fingernails in.

"OW!"

She said in a patronizing voice, "Oh, did that hurt? I'm sorry."

She dunked a cup of water on my head and went to town with the snipping. The blonde streaks of hair fell off the cliff that was my head. I could hear subdued screams as they descended to their deaths.

A whisper floated behind me. "What is she doing? He looks like a plucked pigeon."

"I mean, we do too."

I trusted that Lina crafted a vile masterpiece out of the keratin atop my head. The scissors were her paintbrush, and my hair was the canvas to show the lack of grace her mental state must have been.

She brought a petit pocket mirror for me to view the horror with. I couldn't hold back a yell; "How the hell can I show up like this?" My head was dirt, and my hair was a devastatingly deformed field of grass. I turned the mirror away from me and could make out something a tad maniacal.

Lina's face pealed outward, and tears of mirth teetered her lids. Some distorted animal in the form of laughter uncaged itself. It wasn't an evil villain's laugh but rather an embarrassing cackle that showcased some desperation. The animal was leashed back in with each spurt of noise, but something else took its place.

They were sobs.

Not small ones, but messy ones that you only use when you're lying on the bed by yourself and no one is with you. You don't usually want people to see them, for you know their full evil.

Through her sobs, she whimpered. "Y-you two are gonna leave me all alone n-now, huh?"

I said nothing. I let the sobs carry the spotlight in the room.

I swiveled around on the bucket to view the mess falling apart behind me. In many of the events in this journal, I would infer other people's thoughts when they were around me. Still, beyond that, I lacked consideration for how they felt. Emotions to me seemed to be short-lived spells that people get into as reactions to everything.

Yet, what was Viktor and I supposed to do about the girl behind me? Say sorry?

Sorry's don't solve wars.

***A LONG OVERDUE STATEMENT***
"I'm sorry, Lina."

I guess they solve feelings, though. At least, they should.

If only war could be solved by forgiveness.

She didn't acknowledge it first, but she called us onto the buckets again to fix up our haircuts. She didn't give us the satisfaction of forgiveness just yet. Luckily, none of the hair before fixing it up was less than an inch, so everything ended satisfactorily.

"How can I forgive you, Ricky? You're taking my brother away from me... And you're going away too." I never heard her sounding pouty before, but it was more than justifiable. "Dammit...I don't know who I should be mad at anymore..." Her words slumped.

She kept at her snipping until Viktor, Kurt, and I had inch long hair on top, and the sides were tapered to some degree. The house floor was littered with the keratin of chocolate, gold, and fudge.

"Thanks, Lina." I said while expecting a sassy remark.

"Don't forget the deal." She handed us a broomstick that appeared to be older than all of us combined. We took turns doing manual labor as Lina lit up a cig and watched her little servants clean the house. I expected some grumbles from the boys, but they swallowed their pride and kept with their duties.

Upon completing our task, Lina asked a question with a nicotine rush and a sob-soaked voice. "When are you all leaving?"

"I think a few days," Kurt replied.

She clenched her jaw, and her neck stiffened, but after a deep breath, they relaxed. "Let's... let's do something fun tomorrow. Just me, Viktor, and Ricky. Not you, Kurt. You can do something with your family." A small, sullen smile inched along her face.

The day that followed is one to remember.
Prepare for some true artistry.

The Real Author's Note

***QUICK NOTE: I'M DONE USING ITALICS FOR DIALOGUE. IT'S GROWN QUITE IRRITATING FOR ME***