"—machine guns completely changed every aspect of war, causing trench warfare—" I felt my foot tapping away as I tried to concentrate but I kept thinking of Historia.
She sent me a good morning message, wishing me a good day at school. That was literally only an hour ago and it was beginning to prick my skin as I kept glancing at the clock.
Why was time so slow?
I just wanted it to be the weekend despite it being Monday.
I craved to be anywhere near Historia. Just to hear her voice and be in her company.
It made my stomach all hot and warm—a lot like anxiety.
A little too much like it.
.
.
.
"Ymir!" Sasha threw herself against me, grabbing my arm and twirling about.
"Connie brought me out to dinner the other night to The Elk! It was so good!" Her mouth kept running but I was starting to feel gross in my stomach like I had to run or fight.
I huffed and she stopped, seeing my face and she knew immediately.
"Hey, let's go get some fresh air, hm?" She suggested because the crowds of students in the halls weren't helping.
I hated crowds.
"I have a cigarette, too," she ventured, taking hold of my hand and rubbing the back of it with her thumb.
"Hn."
"Okay. Let's go."
.
.
.
"H-Help! P-Ple—"
The drunk crowd at my house didn't listen as I had to push through them, grabbing at sleeves, trying to get their attention but they'd only smile at me and pat my head.
"Ilse! Hel—"
The crowd wouldn't listen and they'd mindlessly corner me, unaware I was even there.
.
.
.
"I thought things were getting better," I mumbled, scratching my neck, remembering my last attack—the night at the bar some time ago. The night I met Historia.
Sasha leaned against me, wrapping her arm around me and rubbing my shoulder.
"Things are," she promised, "but sometimes we get overwhelmed and we feel a bit under."
I cleared my throat, stubbing out the cigarette.
"Don't think it's not, okay? I can see you getting better." Sasha smiled that stupid thing she always did, making me roll my eyes and chuckle.
"You've just been busy lately, right? Staying busy is good! And I think Historia really helps." She gave me a squeeze before getting up, seeing Connie waving us down.
"Corndog!" Sasha yelled.
"Potato!" He cried, laughing and racing over and smiling at me.
"Um…we haven't thought of a nickname for her yet."
"Ah, that's right! Hm…"
I ignored their banter as I mulled over Sasha's words—she was right, I was staying busy. Historia made me forget a lot of things, but…it was only temporary.
We were starting to pry into each other more, trying to see who we were dating. And I didn't have the heart to always lie to her.
I sighed.
It was fucking easy to tell her how I felt but it seemed hard to say it. All my friends knew how I was all of my life and I grew into that mold—any moment where I tried to say otherwise they laughed even harder.
I shook my head.
Yeah. It was stupid.
I didn't need to worry about it when I had Historia anyways.
Didn't need to think about it at all.
.
.
.
Yet it was always there in every minute.
.
.
.
Sasha was quiet when she picked me up and drove us from my apartment and past the college. We only had to go a little ways before turning off into a secluded little area—the Tamarak Center.
"Mind giving these to her?" Sasha asked, pulling out a small bouquet of flowers.
I nodded.
"I should only be an hour." I murmured, taking them and getting out of the car.
"I will be at the library—just call!" She yelled from her window as I was going to check into the visitor's center.
"Tell her hi!"
I got through the front door and saw Armin working the front desk as usual.
"Ah," he smiled, "Ymir, you're back—Ilse has been excited to see you."
"Has she? I missed her." I smiled, showing him the flowers and letting him inspect it.
"They're nice. Sash get them for her?"
"Haha, yeah. I'm terrible with flowers."
Armin grinned, handing me the clipboard and sign-in sheet as I filled out any necessary requirements and gave it back.
He entered the information and stood up, grabbing her key card and giving clearance into the family room.
"I think she'll like them!" His smile was kind but I knew he felt bad for me—everyone usually did once they knew.
Armin had to know because he knew all the patients and their situations. Including Ilse's and mine.
I walked through and sure enough the place was vacant except for my sister sitting near the glass window, watching the little chickadees tot about, pecking and exploring the yellow grass for the possibility of seeds or unlucky bugs.
"Hey, sis," I approached her slowly, making my presence announced, but she still jumped.
She always did.
But her smile came and her eyes brightened.
"Ymir! You came!" She ran over to me, hugging me.
I smiled, hugging her, too, and showed her the flowers.
"Sasha says hi." I ruffled her hair and she was smiling, taking the flowers from my hands and gently stroking their purple petals.
"I love the color purple!"
"I know," I went and took a seat near the window and Ilse did the same on the opposite side, putting the flowers on the windowsill.
"How's college?" She asked because we always started with that.
"Eh, the week is long. I can't wait till tomorrow," I hummed, thinking of a certain blonde.
"Is there a party? What's tomorrow?" She asked, blankly blinking.
"Friday."
"Ah," she nodded, understanding, "it's hard to…remember what day it is in here."
That made me quiet.
Guilt came back.
She would've been in college, too, or at least signing up for it. If she wasn't here….
"So, how've you been?" I asked because it seemed like guilt was the only right thing to feel.
"I've been making improvements!" She sensed it and tried to soothe me.
"My therapist believes that if I keep up at this rate that I will be ready to sign up for college next year!"
I smiled, seeing her try so hard always made me feel weak yet comforted.
"I'm glad. Maybe I'd be able to pick on you and tell you which professors are good, hm?" I joked with her and she shook her head.
"I'm going to Gonzaga," she reminded and I nodded my head.
"Right, right—oh, guess what, Ilse?"
"Hm? What?"
"I have a girlfriend."
Ilse's eyes went bright and wide as she playfully slapped the table.
"Really? What is she like—anyone I know? Is it Sasha?"
"No, no, no," I snorted and she licked her lips, excited to know.
"Her name is Historia. She goes to Gonzaga, too, and she's…well, if you think of a movie star actress crossed with a witty, booksmart nerd then you'd get Historia."
"Hoh? She sounds amazing! Did she come with you?" Ilse glanced at the door, trying to see if she could answer her own question.
"Ah…no, she didn't…"
There was silence and Ilse's face fell.
She stopped looking at me and she went back into the state I hated—that lifeless and drowned part of her that made my heart hurt.
"Right," she nodded.
"Ilse," I reached over, grabbing her hand, because I didn't want her to lose that rare happiness and excitement, "I will bring her next time, okay? How about that?"
Ilse only numbly nodded and Armin came in—he had security cameras he had to watch.
"It looks like Ilse isn't feeling too good, huh?" He was near her and she seemed to lean against him for support.
"Perhaps we should cut it short, right?"
"Yeah," Ilse surprisingly answered.
I felt something rip and twist in me.
Ilse hardly ever talked when she became almost catatonic. Except to me.
And now… she answered Armin…
It was sick of me to feel it but I felt angry that Ilse would not confide in me but Armin. Jealous that Armin somehow became the person she trusted most. I used to be that—
"You don't have to, Ymir," Ilse was up on her feet, upset no doubt at what was on both of our minds.
"I understand that you wouldn't want her to know…maybe when I get better," she was walked back to the patient hallway and I was left there with the flowers in the windowsill and my pride and guilt dashed before me like a broken jigsaw puzzle.
.
.
.
"S-Stop!"
I felt powerless.
I could only think of Ilse nearby me.
I was scared for her—she was my baby sister.
I had to be strong and protect her, but how could I be that way if I couldn't save myself?
.
.
.
I shot up, feeling all too cold and finding my body shivering and shaking.
It was a dream—it was a memory?
A nightmare.
But my legs wouldn't stop aching, begging me to run. Just be anywhere but in your own body, Ymir.
I got out of bed, sloppily dressing myself, and took to walking out on the street, heading to the one place that felt right—the bridge.
My stomach was rolling and I kept getting racked and rattled with these thoughts.
I clenched my teeth, going into a jog.
You weren't strong enough.
I was only a child!
Look what happened to Ilse!
No more, please…
I didn't want to remember that night.
Please.
Stop.
No more.
