Well shit. One minute I'm staring at the perfect rack next thing I know I'm squabbling the streets like a wild chicken with a hysterical kid. Wobbly knees and all. The worst flippn' part was that it wasn't over. The titans destroyed Wall Maria and all of the farms and fields with it. These were desperate times... Little did I know it would be the beginning of all my agony.
Being a refugee isn't pretty. We lost everything; our homes, most of our family and neighbors, our peace of mind. Keeping the kids fed wasn't easy. At first I had a friend who could sneak us an extra ration or two but once they left I had to do some dirty shit to make sure my little ones ate. Cleaning shoes, massaging feet, and other odd and demeaning requests earned me extra bread from the military.
As if one child wasn't enough, I had three. Armin and I have each other at least but the other two... they have no one left. Eren has lost everything in the blink of an eye and watched it helplessly. Mikasa lost her home and parents for a second time in her short life. It pains me how life started for them. I look at them now as they're sleeping and they should be at peace given their age. Instead Eren is growling, fists tight, and grinding his teeth in his sleep. Mikasa is undoubtedly faking because she's too calm and Armin is tearing. There's nothing I can do now about it as much as I want to comfort them. It's time for me to earn extra rations and if don't go they won't have enough to eat. The bustling of the refugee area dies at night so it's easy for me to find clients because there's less competition. On the corner of an old cobble street road I meet my regular, his name is Gregory. Gregory doesn't come alone tonight, he has two others I've never seen before.
"Hey Gramps, you ready to earn some bread?" I like Gregory, he always asks how we're doing and makes sure to pay me as well as he can in food. Money is too risky to carry around in the refugee quarters.
"Sure am sonny my boy." I sit on a little stoop I carried with me and take out the rags from my sack.
"Gramps, I brought two other customers. I think they'll be very beneficial to your business, so give *extra attention* to their shoes." Gregory has grim look in his green eyes he also has an over all demeanor of stress lingering in his presence. His emphasis on extra attention means that I need to pay close attention to everything they say.
"No problem, let's get started." Scrubbing away at Gregory's dirty boot, I steal glances at the other two. They're both MP ranked officers and it's hard to tell what they look like because their shadows are casted over their faces. One is female, the other is male. Neither seem older than thirty. After about ten minutes when I'm almost done with Gregory the male speaks up.
"It looks like the higher ups are going to initiate a draft." My hands falter but I recover quickly. Gregory takes a look at my work and decides he's satisfied. He turns to the gentleman and pats his shoulder.
"Are you sure? There's been a significant increase of enlistment since the wall came down," Gregory responded.
"That's exactly it Greg, the wall came down. There's not enough resources to support everyone." This time it's the woman who responded. "They're initiating draft without much discretion. The only ones moderately safe are juveniles." The woman comes forward and props her foot so I can start. "What's you're name?" Her bronze eyes are bored and tired when they look into mine.
"Grandpa or gramps is just fine," I tell her. I begin to clean her shoes, they're already pretty clean except for a couple smudges on the soles.
"Thank you Gramps," she says inspecting my work seeming impressed. "Good job too."
"You're welcome young lady." I smile and wink at her. She seems to smirk and moves closer to Gregory.
"Gramps is an upstanding and hardworking citizen," Gregory speaks up again. "He's also got three kids to feed, Elsa. Wouldn't it be a shame if he were to be drafted?"
The man props his foot up next and I'm listening closely to Gregory's conversation. "It's out of my hands Gregory. I don't have authority over that. All I know is that tomorrow they're sorting out the refugee camps."
The man taps my shoulder, I hadn't realized I stopped cleaning and I motioned for him to switch feet. "I'm sorry sir," I say.
"Elsa there's gotta be something you can do. This is so fucked up none of them asked to be victims." Gregory is about to lose his shit and the man's shoes are done being cleaned.
"Look Gregory, all I can say is that life is fucked up and we have to deal with the hand we're given."
"I know you don't really mean that. I know that you know this is wrong."
"Even so I can't change it." Elsa turns away from Gregory. His face falls and I have to speak up.
"I'm old, I've lived my life and I will die soon anyway. My only string to this world are my grandkids. I know they'll survive," Armin's hope, Mikasa's wit, and Eren's determination flash through my mind. I know they'll make it for sure. "Now, Gregory, I appreciate what you're trying to do and moreover your concern for me. You're a very good young man, remind of the son I once had. It's okay, if it's my time, it's my time."
The man who has been silent thus far motions to Elsa that it's time to go. "Very well said Gramps," Elsa says. "I'm sorry. I hope we get to see each other again." She shakes my hand very firmly. "Good luck."
"Likewise," I say returning the handshake.
"Gregory, I'll see you soon." And with that they both leave. Gregory turns to me, tears brimming his eyes.
"Gramps...I-I-," Gregory can't speak and he sobs. "I'm so sorry!" I hug him. I know what it would cost him if this anyone caught him. He tried to save my life.
"It's not your fault," I try to console him. "Life is what it is. We have to keep going." He stops.
"You know, I never told you this but, my dad died a couple days before the wall came down. And you look and and sound just like him." He smirks through his tears. "Now I cant help but feel like I'm losing him all over again. Aren't I pathetic?"
"No, not at all." It's all I say for the rest of our encounter. He gives me a bag of food, bigger than normal, and we part ways.
...
I don't have to break the news to the kids because by the time we wake up they're making the announcement. It's no shock when I'm chosen to be drafted. The look of abandonment on Armin's face haunts me. I couldn't save his parents, I couldn't save him. I wish I could drink this pain away. But there's a feeling in my balls again that everything will be okay, that I'm meant to g