Horrifically Wounded, Strikingly Gorgeous & Deadly [ErenXMikasa] [Eremika]

XV: A Royal Beating

[Eren]

"It's easier said than done," Mikasa retorts, a sour yet sad look on her face. My heart skips a beat.

Her eyes become downcast as she fumbles with the bandages on her other arm, and I can see a slight glint of tears in her eyes. "I know people say that I can get help and that e-everything will be okay if I seek he-help, but..." She trails off, only stuttering a couple times. I can tell that she doesn't want to look me in the eye and that's okay; I'd be acting the same.

"You don't want people to know, do you?" I ask her, and she slightly nods her head. "But... it already... seems like the whole school knows, anyway, so y'know..." I hear Mikasas voice crack nearing the end of the sentence, and I realise she's dreading going back to school.

I want to hug her but I know she won't like that. It's obvious that Mikasa doesn't enjoy showing her feelings and albeit she feels weak doing it. This only gives me another reason as to why she acts so cold and callous at school.

She doesn't want people to think she's weak, even though she very much is.

I open my mouth and say, "who cares if people know?" At this Mikasa just slumps further into her mattress, holding her head in her hands. "Because I'm Mikasa Ackerman. The bitch that everybody's afraid of, the bully. And the bully, Eren, is not supposed to commit suicide!" she yells into her hands, and I just feel my heart drop hearing the word suicide.

Just hearing the word makes me think of all the cuts on her wrists; how her skin is shredded at the blood-lust of her own blade. The fact that she has vertical cuts and not just horizontal ones tells me she has a real problem and that she needs help. But, knowing Mikasa, she'll refuse it.

I sigh. "I can't erase everyones' memories, but... Don't cut, okay?" She just shakes her head. "I can't just do that... you don't understand... I want to stop...But I can't..." I hear her voice crack again as she almost bursting into tears, but holds it in in fear of seeming weak. She really doesn't have to try - it's obvious that she is.

"But you can-"
"No! I really can't! There's no alternative for this! I've tried, okay? Smoking, alcohol, nothing works!" As Mikasa says this she stands up, shouting at me with every fiber of her being. Tears let loose down her cheeks, and I stand up. I try to grab Mikasa by the upper arm, but she just yanks it away. Her behavior dies down as she just looks at me, an expression of despair on her face. "Tell me. How hard was it for you to stop?"
"Mikasa, sto-"
"How hard was it?!" She yells. I sigh. "It took a long time. I felt like I couldn't stop, even though I knew I could. Just like how I know you ca-"
"See? You know the pain first hand so don't sit there and give me a bullshit story about how I can when you know I think I can't!" I hear her voice getting hoarse, and approach her. She once again puts her head in her hands, crying into them once again.

It both hurts and surprises me to see her like this. Mikasa shouldn't be crying; she shouldn't be as broken as she is and she shouldn't be trying to end her own life. I feel like I've thought this too much in my head but it seems to have become just a regular thing.

Whatever happened must have been so traumatic for her, because never have I been this way. I don't remember cutting my wrists vertically and slashing at them like the blade was a weed-hacker and my wrist the weeds; I don't remember tearing up when talking to my dad over the phone, and I certainly don't remember breaking down when someone asked me to stop. But I guess that's just because nobody ever did.

I realize now that even though Mikasa may have wealth, and beauty, and a family, her life is probably far worse than mine, and I resent myself for thinking so selfishly. I shouldn't have based Mikasa's happiness off of what she has.