Warning! This contains depressive thoughts, suicide attempts, mature content and cussing! If you're too young,(or sensitive,) I suggest you click away.

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You lied against the cold hard ground of a dark alley, clothes hardly staying on your pale and dirty body. You were sick of this horrible life, but you needed it. You needed it to survive.

You slowly got on your two feet, your body sore and aching, and started to walk back to what was considered your 'workplace'.

You look at the building; it had bright green and purple lights that formed the word "The Dirty Heaven". You opened the door, entering a whole other world.

A dirty world

You thought. "Hey (Y/n)" your manager called. You hummed, signalling you were listening. "Your shift is finished, so change and go home. Here's your pay, and is it okay if tomorrow you start earlier?" Uragiru (OC), your boss, asked. "What time ?"

You asked, making your way to the table she sat at while she was writing down in her agenda. "Uhm... Would 6 pm be okay?" You nodded to her letting her write it down. "By the way, your pay's on the counter." You grab the dollars on the counter, then went into the changing room, counting the money on the way. Once inside, you took off your work clothes and put them inside your locker, changing into your normal clothes. Once fully changed, you took your money and started walking to your house.

On the way back, you stopped and looked to the sky. It was already night, the stars shining brightly in the dark blue. You loved the sky, and nature. It helped you think.

After a few minutes, it started to snow. The perfect white flake, mocking your imperfect and black soul. And to make it worst, the flake had friends. 'I wonder...what would it be like to have someone...' You thought. You exhaled softly, your breath turning into a small white cloud because of the temperature of the night contrasting with your warm puff.

You decided to take a stop to the beach on your way home. A foot in front of the other, you slowly limped to the sand, each step, wondering what it was worth. You stopped at the edge of the water. Slowly, taking off your flat black shoes and white socks, and gently placing them down on the sand, you made your way into the cold realm of the sea.

Each step, going deeper and deeper into the see-through liquid until even your head was in. Your clothes, which consisted in a white dress, was now flowing in the water like a beautiful flower lost in the vast sea, a perfect stain of white in the deep blue. Your body started slowly sinking to the bottom, your head thumping against the rocks that floored the endless water. Your body slowly met the ground, like a feather. Then you heard sounds. The snow turned aggressive. Hails started forming, hitting the water in a calming melody. Like a lullaby. Maybe at the surface it was hell, but you belonged to the sea. The water cushioned the sounds, as if you were in a bubble. The bubble wouldn't pop, because it's strong, making you the girl in the bubble. The liquid surrounding you was still, despite the storm going on outside.

You looked at the air escaping your mouth, forming spheres, to slowly escalate back to the surface. 'Something I'll probably never do' you thought, not even sad.

You thought of death more times than you could even count, but somehow, you never went through with it. You didn't want to live but you were too scared to die. A weakling, that's what you were. You closed your eyes, appreciating the peaceful state you were in when greeting death. The water guided you, rocking you back and forth. The rocks and the sand under you made a bed for your freezing body. The seaweed tickled your arm.

It was almost like you were already in heaven. Almost.

A thought of regret crossed your mind, and just like that you backed out. You rose to the surface, too scared to stay under the water too long. 'Another failure' you thought, shaking your head from side to side to try and dry your hair a little bit. You swam back to the shore, and grabbed your shoes under your arm.

After that, you just went home. When you unlocked the door to your crappy and small two-room appartement, you were greeted with the sight of another envelope in front of your doorframe. When you opened it, you tossed it away as soon as you saw it's content. It was a letter to alarm you again of the money you owed. But that didn't matter, as it quickly met the table, overflowing with others.

You heated some food, taking a few bites before placing it back in the fridge, deciding you weren't hungry.

You laid down on your couch. As you laid there, you thought of your life. It started when you just reached eighteen, your dad being an alcoholic, you left the house as soon as you could. Not the smartest decision, but when you came back asking for a little help, your "dad" slammed the door to your face. Gee, thanks dad.

You knew deep down your dad was a good man, but you still hated him for what he did. It was thanks to, or more like because of him that you ended up here.

Where? In a shitty apartment, your only way of survival being to sell your body each day to some disgusting men. A whore, that's what you were. People prefer the word prostitute, but you just thought it was just a nice way of saying the truth, like a present with a pretty wrapping paper, only to find a horrible gift in it.

After hours of thinking, your eyes started closing on their own, and you were soon falling into a deep slumber.

~Timeskip~

You woke up the next day at around 10 A.M, practically dragging yourself to your kitchen, and after eating a bowl of cereal, you went to shower.

After a long, cold shower, you dressed in simple jeans and tee shirt, and grabbed your purse to go to another work. During the day, you worked at a few restaurants as a server, and then the night you work at the club. Sometimes, some drunk men would take you out in an alley, and then... You worked, basically.

After a few hours of boring work, greeting clients and serving coffee, you had a small break, which you used to drink coffee, trying to stay awake.

Once your break was finished, you continued with your shift. Though this time, you were filling up someone's cup, because they asked for a refill, when the client you were serving decided that your ass was worth touching. As a self-defence move, you turn around and your hand went forward, ready to it him but you managed to stop yourself. The scorching hot coffee you were holding didn't stop, only coming to a halt once it was on the man's shirt. The perverted client yelled at the burn it caused. You quickly reached for napkins to dry him off. You absolutely loved seeing such a bastard suffer, but you really didn't want to lose your job because of an ass squeezing.

Luck wasn't on your side, as your boss stepped out of the kitchen to see what was the commotion. As soon as he understood the situation, he glared at you, while practically screaming at you to get out.

You took off your apron, before walking out. As soon as you were on the streets, you felt lost. You had a bit of time before your second job, which was a shame, as your shift was pretty much finished.

You decided to hang out in some bars, and tried to find a new job, since you really needed it.

After taking a few papers for some jobs, you put them in your purse and started heading towards the club.

When you entered the club, you went to the changing room, pushing past a few groups of drunk people before reaching the door and locking yourself inside as quickly as possible.

After changing into work clothes, you got out and went to ask to your boss if there was any of your regular clients here. She pointed to a guy at the back, who came here quite a few times before. You heard some rumours that he might have a wife, but that was his problem, not yours.

As you arrived in front of the man, he grabbed you by the waist, pulling you closer to his tall body, and he whispered in your ears, "Why don't we go outside?" You nodded weakly.

You hated talking to people like that. Your boss always asked you to at least pretend like you're having fun, but even the thought of it made you want to vomit. Pretend like you're having fun when the only reason why you do it is because you have no other way? No. Not doing it.

Once you were at the back, in a small alley that no one ever used, the guy started angrily kissing you. You let him enter your mouth, but you didn't really kiss back. He started undressing you, undoing the buttons to your dress.

Once the client fucked you, he went back into the club, while you stayed outside for a bit.

When you finally went in, your boss told you it was practically time to close, so you could go home. You nodded, and went to the changing room to pack your things. Your stuff packed, you hung your purse over your shoulder and walked out.

As soon as you were home, you threw yourself on your sofa, and pretty much passed out when your head met the pillows.

~The next day~

You woke up feeling rested. Today you didn't have anything to do, since you weren't going to work. You lounged around, drank a bit of coffee, and dusted the shelves. Days like these were pretty dull, but it was nice to get some rest.

However, you started to feel nauseous. You ran to your bathroom, and you leaned over the toilet bowl, puking your stomach's content.

'Oh shit, please no...'

You thought, as you continued vomiting. When you manage to collect yourself, you went to wash your face at the sink.

You decided to see what made you sick, so you locked the door to your appartement and decided to go to a doctor's. Though without an appointment, you had a hard time to get in, but you managed.

The doctor greeted you, and made you sit on a chair in front of his desk. You explained the symptoms you had, and why you were here. The doctor nodded, and then started asking questions to which you answered truthfully. Once he had the answers he needed, he told you something that made your heart throb and your stomach sink.

"Congratulations Miss, you're pregnant!"

When you left the doctor's office, it was like you couldn't hear anything besides your heartbeat. You took a few steps, and started wobbling back to your appartement.

'How can I take care of a kid, a baby, when I hardly have enough to live by myself?'

Was the thought that kept circling in your head as you took a knife from your kitchen and went into the streets.

You sat at the corner of an alley, thinking to yourself, that maybe if you aimed the knife at your heart, you would die quicker. As you took, with shaking hands, the knife from your bag, you embraced yourself for the hit of the knife, your knife, but you soon felt a hand covering yours, preventing you from reaching death.

You looked at the person who stopped you with dead eyes, and you could see that he was startled by how awfully sad, depressed you were.

As you saw the guy's face, you realized you've already seen him somewhere. Looking at his uniform, he was a scout. He said with his deep voice, breaking the silence that had surrounded you "If you have nothing to live for, at least die in a memorable way."

You looked at him with the most confused way you could managed and with a hoarse voice that made you realize you had been crying since you left the doctor's, you said "How can I die a memorable death, when I have lived a meaningless life?" The man seemed taken aback by the question and took some time to find an answer, but when he did, he said "Find something to live for. If you don't have anything to live for, find something to die for."

You thought that was odd, and so you asked the raven haired man in front of you "Do you have something to live for or die for?" He looked at you weird, but then said "Humanity."

You chuckled, and looked at him with admiration as you said "That's a good cause." He gave you his cloak with a small smile, and said "I hope one day you'll find your own reason to live" before leaving, as it seemed a man with bushy eyebrows and a woman with a brown ponytail were calling after him.

You watched his retreating back, and then you looked at the cloak he had draped over your shoulders. You saw the wings that were sewn on it and with a small smile, you thought

'The scout regiment... Maybe I should try it.'

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I do not own Attack On Titan or it's characters.

I do not own the cover of the story. If you are the original artist and you don't want me to use it, write a comment, and I will take it off.

First chapter, done!

This is written to celebrate Levi's birthday.

The Karma fanfic was also posted not too long ago. I will not write a fanfic about Viktor from Yuri on ice because for me I have no inspiration since the anime is already perfect! So yeah... I wouldn't want to ruin it with my mediocre writing skills...

I got inspired by the song 'The A Team' cover by Megan Nicole, so maybe try to listen to it after reading the chapter...

I tried to add more details, I'd really appreciate it if you told me if I did a good job.

(Y/n) met Levi!! Dun-Dun-DUN!! Well, I'll see you next chapter...

~TheBlinfoldedFox