The Squad Behind Us [Attack On Titan]

Cameron Blanc- Part One

A/N

One: My Chemical Romance is my new favorite band

Two: sorry for the subtle Levi x Hanji

Of course, what was one to do if they were in possession of someone's personal journal other than read it? Give it back because you know that it isn't any of your business? What if that person is dead and you physically can't give it back? Does that make it okay? These were some of the questions that floated around in Hanji's head as she stared down at the shabby looking journal. It definitely looked as if it had been treated nice and that it was old. On the binding was a beautiful design of twisting lines and hearts. Definitely a girl's journal, even though Hanji didn't usually believe in stereotypes. The last time that she'd opened one of these journals, the person ended up being alive and then she'd almost gotten punished for it.

She tried to stop herself by holding on to her arm as it slowly reached down for the journal. Midway she gave up and caved in to her curiosity. She almost hungrily grabbed the journal and flipped open to the first page. Whilst reading she ran over to her super-duper-comfortable chair and plopped down in it. It was a wonderful chair to be lazy in.

She opened up the first page and began reading.

Today I went around to the bakery and bought bread for my family. I wish my father was still here. I miss him. Tomorrow would be his birthday. I wish we did something on his birthday, but Mother won't allow it. She refuses to believe that he's dead. He died in the military as I'm sure I've already told you. I just have trouble remembering things, ha-ha. (Even though I'm not laughing right now. Quite sad, actually. I only ever write in here when I really need to. It's not like I need to.

Hanji stopped and started to look at when this entry was. It was some time in the mid 830s. She was really young. I guess she didn't write in this very much, did she? She continued.

I can't believe Mother did that! I bought some flowers from Harold who owns the flower shop for a discounted price, because we can't afford it normally and Harold is a nice person, and then I brought them to the small shrine we'd made for our father, since he'd been cremated. As I laid them there, my mother appeared behind me. She did not look happy. I said, "I was just saying hi to Daddy." She yelled at me, "YOU CAN'T SAY HI TO YOUR DADDY BECAUSE DADDY ISN'T GONE!" She then grabbed the flowers up in her mighty talon-like hands and tore the flowers apart. "MOMMY NO!" I shouted at her, but she wouldn't stop. She kept doing it and I was so scared. I imagined her doing the same thing to me and for once in my life I felt truly terrified of my mother. Why can't I mourn my father? Mother, can't you tell me?

Next entry.

I was upset all day yesterday, but I couldn't show that to my mother. I was afraid of what would happen. She certainly doesn't like me right now, and I know that it has something to do with my father. My father was in the military and he died in an accident. He worked in the garrison and was working on the walls and he hadn't been wearing his equipment that could've saved him and he fell off. They saw his mangled body at the bottom, but thankfully I never did. I don't ever want to. My mother did though, and they say that's when she snapped and went into denial. She'd been pregnant with me at the time. I feel so bad for her. She can't accept the fact that he's gone, and she needs to. At least, that's what my grandpa says. My grandpa's really nice and I can always come to him with my problems.

I think I found a new friend today. He said his name was Kido, and I said that it was a weird name. I don't know how to describe him other than he looked nice. He's a bit older than me, and usually I wouldn't play with older people, but he's nice so I don't mind. We played next to the stream next to our houses and I made him a flower bracelet. He said he liked it and tried to wear it. Sadly, I'm not that amazing at making things out of plants like some other girls, so it's too fragile to wear all the time like our clothing.