An Eldian's Journal
Chapter 2: The Useless Goddess – a show
One week after making acquaintance with the legendary Viktor Dassler came the celebration of Helos.
***THE MAGNIFICENT HELOS***
A Marleyan warrior who (approximately 2000 years ago) slayed the Devil.
Helped bring the fall of the Eldian empire.
On this day, Marleyans celebrate the slaying of the devil by gathering around the Helos statue and launching fireworks around midnight. And of course, it's all at the expense of something very important to us Eldians: our sleep.
This was also the day that a small rock hit my bedroom window.
"Hey Heinrich, you awake yet?!"
I rolled out of my bed and opened my window to see the local fighter standing in the alley below.
"What do you want, Viktor? It's like 8 in the morning."
"Meet me at 11:30 PM today! I have something I want to show you!"
"Couldn't you tell me that later?"
Viktor put on his usual cheeky grin and ran back to his home. In the one week I had gotten to know him, it was easy to figure out Viktor had a habit of purposefully bothering people.
I rubbed my eyes as I plodded over to my bedroom door. But as I reached for the doorknob, a familiar voice came from the back corner.
"Well looks like you made a friend already. See Heinrich, I told you. Its what's on the inside that matters."
I turned around and looked at the blonde girl sitting on the wooden stool with her arms crossed. It was too early for her sass. I stood up straight to deliver my comeback.
"Is that right, Ymir? In that case, maybe you should eat some makeup so you can be pretty on the inside."
"My middle finger salutes you."
***DISCOUNT YMIR***
She's way too useless to be the real one.
She isn't even real.
Let me take a step back here.
Back in my elementary school years, I used to be such a popular kid that everyone wanted to be friends with me. I was so popular that I even had an involuntary side job: I was a human punching bag where my friends would take turns punching me senseless. (Just in case you didn't catch the sarcasm, I wasn't popular, and I had no friends)
Anyway, when I was about 8 years old, a group of "friends" surrounded me in an alley near my school and as you can expect, I got beaten up. By that point though I got used to it. I came back home to my parents, beaten so much that my pale white boy face began to show color. Thankfully, as a way to calm me down, my lovely mama made pork chops for the first time for dinner. Come dinnertime, just as I was about to savor the food and forget my troubles, I sensed something next to me. Rather someone.
I looked right to see a young blonde girl, around the same age as me, glaring at the pork in front of me. Under shock, I bit my tongue and let out a girly scream.
"W-who are you?!"
Ymir tore away from the food and looked straight at me: "I'm Ymir."
"Oh, like t-the Goddess Y-ymir?"
"No, I'm your imagination, so I'm basically useless..."
A large grin appeared on her face and she continued, "…But I don't mind you calling me goddess."
Still under shock, I cautiously looked over at my parents to see if they were as shocked as I was. Nothing. They were just talking about something together and weren't even paying attention to me. I then asked them if they saw what I just saw and unsurprisingly they said I was seeing things since I got hit so hard.
As a result of getting beaten up all the time, I guess my brain created Ymir as a way to cope. The issue is though she sucks at being a coping tool. Instead of helping me deal with my problems she just hits me with some sassy remark every now and then. Other times, however, she would be oddly quiet. For example, during my encounters with bullies, Ymir would have a tendency to stand a few feet away and blankly stare at me with her fists clenched while I got the shit beaten out of me.
***SIMPLY PUT***
I had an imaginary friend at 8 yrs old
at 12 years old
and even now (I have no shame).
NowIs thathow itreally went, Heinrich?, Sorry about that line I mess up my words sometimes. I'm writing with a pen so I can't really erase anything.
On the day of Helos, I managed to sneak out of my home by 11:30 at night without alarming my parents. Lucky for me they were pretty deep sleepers.
When I opened the main door and stood on the stairs, I was greeted by faints cheers. Not cheers of Eldians, but rather Marleyans celebrating from outside the walls. They had been so loud that their noise managed to penetrate the impenetrable internment zone walls.
I then heard a voice from the house next to me, "Oh, you actually came".
I quickly looked left to see Viktor walking down his stairs while putting his newsboy hat and armband on.
I replied, "Y-yea of course I did". I didn't want to lose the first friend I had made.
Me and Viktor intersected at the pavement in front of our houses and without warning, he began squinting at my jaw.
"Hmmm Looks like you still got that bruise from last week huh?"
I replied defensively,"You do too."
"No I don't!"
Viktor carefully touched the left part of his jaw but quickly grimaced and pulled his finger away. The pain was still ripe. He said nonchalantly, 'Tis but a scratch."
I looked back at my house.
***TWO OPTIONS***
a)I could walk back into my home, and return to a cozy bed
b)I could follow a kid that reeks of irresponsibility
Of course I chose "b)". That first one wouldn't make for a good story now would it?
Viktor ran a few feet down the street. He then bowed towards me and said, "Tour Guide Viktor at your service. I shall be giving you a fine tour tonight ranging from the great cuisine to local entertainment. And for the finale, a fireworks show by the gate."
"A tour at night? Are you sure that's a great idea?"
"Well of course, sir. I believe the night gives a unique feel to the place"
Indeed, the night did give the place an interesting feel, mainly because I couldn't see much initially. Thankfully, the streetlights came on and they were bright enough that I could see most things. And the occasional firework from outside the walls would provide a passing light.
"Well come on now chop. chop. We have a tight schedule to follow if we are to make it the show of lights,"
As we began walking, I couldn't help but notice how shitty the street looked. Mini slabs were missing here and there, and the potholes were quite generous to say the least. It was a scarred, broken down street that had a personality to it.
"This is street 4311…"
All the streets in the internment zones were categorized by numbers, not by names. I guess the Marleyans didn't think this place was worth naming.
"…Or as I like to call it, 'Hell Street'. A hell with an assortment of devils."
As we rounded the corner, Viktor began pointing out various stores and restaurants that occupied the sides of the streets while also recounting stories about the interesting characters that frequented these places.
The first place Viktor pointed out was a rundown restaurant. A closed sign was hanging crookedly behind a grey-brown glass window and a half-way torn propaganda poster stood lonely on the right side of the building.
"The old couple that runs this place helped my family move into my house when we first got here. After that, they let me and my sister have free cookies here after school.
We then passed by a candy store. One would expect this place to be colorful, but it was painted in a mundane beige. A green sign hung from the ledge above the door and some black mold stained the side of the building underneath the chipping paint.
"The owner of this place made a deal with me and my friends a few years ago. She said she would give us the whole gumball machine if one of us beat her at chess…Maybe you could help us with that."
Viktor had described all these places with such fondness, warmth even. I just watched with my mouth shut as he recounted memories with a beaming voice uncaring of people sleeping or walking around. [JG2] He had hope for the people here. So much so, that there was almost an aura surrounding him, and it wasn't the lights.
Yet, all I saw were scared buildings that huddled together. Some wore a coat of beige while others wore a grey. Rusty bicycles with loose chains riddled the sidewalks.
I could see a rundown slum.
But all Viktor could see was the people.
Halfway through the "tour", we passed by a shadow near the corner of the street. It was a man with the color of bone. He had a cold beard with specks of white scattered about like snowflakes. His guitar had an even more intriguing character to it: each scratch and chipped edge on it must have had their own stories. The harmonious instrument played a dissonant role in this setting. I had a guitar at home as well but there was something more to this one.
" …and there's the meat store. I steal some of their lamb sometimes. It's for their benefit though since it keeps them on their toes…Hey, Heinrich?"
Viktor's voice jolted me out of my gaze.
"Sorry, Viktor but who's that homeless guy over there?"
Viktor halted abruptly. He stole a glance at the man but immediately shifted away.
"He's not part of the tour. Come on"
It appeared that Viktor held hope for most people, rather than all of them. What a shame. Only if he knew that the man would soon be holding hope for us.
We passed by some other people and even a Marleyan officer. He was barely awake while sitting on a wooden stool that had a short leg. An adult magazine was lying on the pavement next to him with a cigarette blunt on top burning through the page. As the tour reached its end, I grew more aware of the internment zone walls surrounding the place. The section I lived in previously was close to the center, so it was rather difficult to see them. But being so close to them that day served as a reminder for the reality of our world.
Viktor switched into his tour guide voice again. "Ok, sir. We have reached our final destination!"
I looked up to see a black gate connecting the gargantuan brick walls looming in front of us. The gate wasn't as big as the main gate but it was my first time seeing one so it held significance. My jaw dropped as I gazed at the beautifully lit city past the gate. The houses looked free and healthy. Children were fumbling about on stairs and frolicking on the streets.
It was then that I saw my first firework; a sight that was burned into my memory. I saw a vivacious spark shatter into 1000 extraordinary particles, conquering the summer night sky with its blazing trails. It whistled proudly and just for one moment, Eldians and Marleyans alike could enjoy the show. My eyes were blessed with the sight as a pain drowned my heart. "Why can't we live like this?", I wondered. I looked behind me to see the half-assed lighting, sickly houses, that we had no choice but to accept.
"It's beautiful isn't it?", Viktor asked. Without giving me a chance to savor the moment, he then put his hand out and ordered, "I'd like my fee please."
I backed into the gate.
"Fee?!"
"My services are not for free, sir."
Just as I was about to respond, a Marleyan mother and daughter noticed us from outside the gate.
The mother got onto her knees, looked directly into her daughters eyes, and said "Honey, don't look at them. You know what they'll do if you look too closely? They'll screw our dogs, turn into Titans and eat them!"
"Wait mama! papa told me a story where the opposite happened. Some dogs ate an eldian girl-"
"What kind of bedtime stories is he telling you?" Without giving her daughter a chance to answer, the woman swiftly grabbed her arm and dragged her away.
"Let's keep walking sweety. Those devils are staring at us."
Me and Viktor watched silently as we observed the Marleyans. Fear and disgust were etched into their faces. I then looked to my left to see that Ymir had appeared. She stood like a wooden plank, frozen still with clenched fists blankly staring at the Marleyan family as they walked away. With a brittle voice, she said, "Scum. They're all scum."
Viktor's voice wobbled, "That lady's right. We are devils…"
We turned away from the gate and looked at one another.
"…We can turn into Titans after all. But you know what the problem is? They look at us like we are all the same. But that isn't it. There's funny devils, smart devils, nice devils and whatnot…" He then pointed out the gate. "…but to them it doesn't matter how funny, skilled, talented we are because at the end of the day, who cares who you are as a person when you're a mindless titan?"
His question hung in the warm summer air and his voice began to quicker. "They look at us like weapons, Heinrich. Weapons! They have us herded up in these walls like cattle, waiting to get slaughtered!"
Viktor began scratching at his head furiously, digging his fingernails into his scalp.
"I love the people in our section like family. But you know what? they're all complacent with how things are. Comfortable even." He then raised one pointer finger in the air.
"One day Heinrich. One day I'm going to rile everyone up here to fight. I ain't no warrior or titan-shifter. But I don't need to be one to want to start something. That's why I started learning how to fight."
"You think I'm crazy don't you Heinrich?" Viktor took his pointer finger and put it on my chest. "You think I'm just one of those edgy kids that want to kill everyone for 'freedom', right?..."
He hit the nail on that one. That's exactly what I thought.
"…Are you going to be just like the other people? Comfortable. Or will you help me out?!"
I gazed at his scrunched-up face. The light from the occasional firework glistened on his tears. This was the kind of character to screw you over in all the stories. The kind of person the lame protagonist follows and ends up causing some big problem they have to solve together. Yes, he was indeed that character. I couldn't tell if he was simply burning with ambition or gone mad from something, but I knew very well this was someone to avoid.
Only if we knew at the moment, that the drunkard officer from earlier had managed to bring himself off his pathetic wooden stool and was approaching us clumsily. Maybe we could have saved some balls.
The Real Author's Notes
Happy Holidays everyone! I hope everyone is enjoying the story so far. As always, please give feedback if you have any.
Also, I've changed the character ages for this chapter and the previous ones to match the story better.