Do you have to go?

Chapter 1

"Agh!" I exclaimed as a punch to the gut woke me up. I had just fallen asleep, the nervous excitement of seeing my husband this afternoon kept me up all night. It must have been an early morning, given that I could hear lazy chirping from outside my window and slivers of light peeked through the curtains.

I turned to his side of the bed, it still smelled like him. Even when he was away, I kept solely to my side. I'm not sure why, spreading out over the extra space would be nice, but I did like leaving it open for him, just in case.

Well, there was no way I was falling back to sleep after that, so I tought I may as well get up and start getting the house ready. Things took longer since I was nearly due, my belly tended to get in the way. I slipped my feet into some flats, normally he helped me with my shoes, but with him gone, I've resorted to slippers and flats, they're more comfortable anyway. 

I made my way down the creaky old stairs, hoping I didn't wake my in-laws. 

They'd been struggling to sleep the whole time he was away, their only living son off on a dangerous mission. They were proud, of course, all of us were. I believe the anticipation of the baby was a light for them, but I could tell that the day before, that both of them were emotionally exhausted. 

I got started on the laundry, I loved to have fresh sheets and shirts for him when he returned. Though regretfully that would mean that his pillowcase wouldn't smell of his aftershave anymore.

________

I was a child in love with a warrior. Marcel was bright, driven, and dependable. We were so young, it was so innocent. 

Marcel and Porco would always walk with me to warrior training. Our family's homes in the internment zone were close by. Porco and I were the same age and being in the same warrior candidate class, we became good friends. But Marcel, he was the older brother that of course, a young me had such a crush on. Watching the two brothers come up to my house would make my heart flutter. I'd try hard not to blush when Marcel would offer to carry my satchel. He was a gentleman even though we were just kids.

I was competing with Pieck for the Cart, we both had a similar drive, our ailing family members. Her father and my grandmother. We each had the same need to become Warriors, to secure Marleyan healthcare for them. Pieck was a little bit older than me and as children, those few extra years made her a bit more level-headed, able to deduce a situation faster than I could. But I was quicker and more flexible. Allowing me to adapt better to the odd positions that we would have to train in for the Cart. But regardless of th competition, she was my best friend.

I trained with those kids for a good part of my childhood. I never dared cross Annie, for fear she would break my arm. Bertholdt was sweet but quiet and always looking to help the underdog. In ourcase that was Reiner. Poor Reiner, he was so driven but had no chance of inheriting a titan, he was the slowest of all of us, mentally the weakest. He was a pup Marleyans could kick around and he would remain loyal, but loyalty did not a good Warrior make. Porco was cocky he knew he was an excellent candidate for the armored, he had the build for it and he knew it. He was fast, strong, and intelligent but he could be arrogant. Marcel would have to stop him when his head was getting too big. Regardless of the differences among the group, I loved them. They were my friends and I was looking forward to working with them for the rest of my life, whatever Marley had in store for me.

When I was nearly 11 we were approaching the day that Warrior's would be selected. There were some guarantees, Marcel for the Jaw, Annie for the Female Titan, Bertholdt for the Colossal, Porco for the Armored, but Pieck and I were still neck and neck for the Cart. During a break between training sessions, Marcel pulled me over to one of the walls in the courtyard of the training center.

He leaned down to look me in the eyes. He was always the more serious of the two brothers but his look frightened me. There was no joy behind his hazel eyes. He placed both hands on my shoulders. My heart raced, this was the first time he'd ever touched me, other than a training exercise. His hands gripped my shoulders.

 "Isla, please drop out of the warrior program," he said.