Mindless

A Name for Change

I sit on the side of the bed I had fallen off of. Doctor Airaway sits beside me, gently cleaning the cuts on my right arm. I keep my eyes locked on the floor. If my right arm was anything like my left arm, I didn't want to know.

I had looked at my left arm when Airaway had unwrapped the bandages. Angry red lacerations covered my arm. Blood was smeared around them, a reminder of my latest wild outburst.

Airaway releases my right arm, to prepare a new cloth. Seconds later her one hand reclaims its spot on my arm, just below the elbow. She proceeds to gently press the clean cloth to my arm. It happens to fall on a particularly open cut. I know this because a burning pain laces up my arm, from a point under the cloth. I suck in a sharp breath as the muscles in my arm tighten.

I hear Eren take a step forward, ready to react, should I lash out. Breathing out, I force the muscles in my arm to relax. Airaway continues to gently brush my arm down with the cloth.

Two cloths later Airaway begins to wrap my right arm. Tying the bandage off, she places my arm gently in my lap. I continue to stare at the floor. Airaway places a gentle hand on my shoulder, which I shy away from. She sighs.

"It's not your fault," she says, voice soft. "Whatever they did to you, whatever happens because of it, none of it is your fault."

I want to tell her that she's wrong. I want to tell her about those few times in which I had willingly, unthinkingly, consciously, gave over to the voice. But I just can't bring myself to tell her. "You don't know that," I mumble.

Airaway catches my chin and forces me to meet her eyes. "That doesn't matter because I believe it."

Giving me a smile, she pushes back my unruly, black hair and begins to smooth it down. Her touch is gentle and soothing. I allow my eyes to drift shut as my muscles relax.

"You know, they never did tell us your name," Airaway states. "What is your name?"

I jerk away from her, my mind going straight to von Wen and his promise which he never got to fulfill. Airaway is shocked by my reaction, and I can see Eren begin to move then stop, unsure of what to do.

I pull my legs into my chest, and wrap my arms around them, forming a ball. I hug my legs and squeeze my eyes shut. All the previous anger and frustration from dealing with the same question before bubbles up. Shaking my head, I plant my forehead on my knees. "I don't know."

Its silent for a minute before Airaway says, "Then I guess you'll have to come up with one."

I look up at her, shocked. Name myself? Surely, I had a name. I can't not have a name. Could I do that? Name myself? I shake my head. "I can't."

Airaway tilts her head left. "Why not?"

I feel as if Airaway was challenging me, and I become defensive. "Because I can't."

Sitting up straight, Airaway cross her arms. "That doesn't answer my question," she replies in a motherly tone.

Instead of responding, I narrow my eyes and glare at her.

"Well, if you can't," she says, standing up without breaking eye contact, "How about I name you?"

Airaway, practically a complete stranger, name me? Didn't that break some kind of rule? Surely it did. "No. I have a name. I just don't know what it is. Someone out there does know what it is though. . . I. . . I just have to find them."

Airaway doesn't respond. She just looks at me like I'm a puzzle she can't solve. I just look at her, half expecting her to argue against what I've just said somehow. She's not the one to break the silence though.

"It can be temporary," Eren says.

Airaway and I both look at him.

"What?" He asks with a shrug. He waves a hand in my direction. "She's pretty definitive about the fact that she has a name, and highly unwilling to rename -or possibly name -herself. We can't keep referring to her like we are. So, she gives herself a name that we can use until she figures out what her name is."

Airaway nods. "That would appear to be the best solution." She looks over at me. "What do you think?"

I shrug, looking away. "Sure. Why not."

"What would you like us to call you then?" Airaway asks.

My mind goes blank. I can't think of anything. "I don't know."

"How about . . ." Airaway puzzles aloud, "Gwen?"

"Gwen?" I repeat.

Airaway nods. "I always thought it was a pretty name. Probably would have called Eren Gwen, if he had been a girl."

Eren looks at his mother. "What?"

I whisper Gwen to myself. It's a light, happy name. The blackness sitting in the back of my mind doesn't like it. It wants something dark.

I look up at Airaway and nod. "I like it."

Airaway smiles at me. "Alright then. Gwen it is."

A knock sounds from the door and Cynthia pokes her head in. "Doctor Airaway? They need you in the infirmary."

Airaway sighs. "Tell them I'm on my way." She gives me one last smile before heading for the door. "Eren, stay with Gwen."

Eren goes to say something, but the door clicks shut. Silence envelops the room. I stay in my ball but drop my eyes to the floor.

A minute into the silence, I hear footsteps. Startled, I drop my legs to the ground, spinning towards the door. I stop when I see Eren frozen mid-step, watching me. He seems slightly bemused by my reaction.

I can feel the darkness at the back of my mind, demanding that I attack while he's somewhat off guard. The way Eren's looking at me though, makes me feel stupid for having such a panicked reaction.

I can feel my cheeks warming up, and I look away from Eren. "Sorry. You startled me."

"I'm just going to get Cynthia to clean up the glass, so you don't step in it," he says as the footsteps start up again.

The darkness leaps up, demanding that I attack now, before he gets too far away, while his back it turned.

I shake my head, as if that will somehow dislodge the darkness. I can hear voices from over by the door. I know its Eren and Cynthia, but I start to look over anyways. I stop when I see my reflection in the mirror.

I look at her and she gazes back. Her shoulder-length black hair is a disheveled mess. Her skin is pale, but slightly darker than the white bandages on both arms. She wears a white shirt and white pants. You can tell by looking at her that she is tall and slender. There's no smile on her face, but her cheeks are tinted red. Her eyes are a bright blue but have no internal shine. They are dull; you can see the darkness behind them. She looked as lost and confused as I was. She was practically just like me in every way. There was only one thing that made us different.

Gwen.

I had a name, and she didn't.

Gwen

One word, four letters. That was enough of a start for me.