Eren Yeager is a 16 year old boy with a destructive mind. Sure, we can all get like that some times, but when it becomes too much it gets dangerous. Eren has lived in a 'mental asylum' for over a year now because of his self destructive mind and hau...
It took less time than I had imagined for me to be dragged out of my room and taken to a different section of the hospital that I wasn't sure I had seen before. Every hall seemed the same, white walls, white floors, white everything; maybe the same collection of scratches across the walls as if someone had dragged something sharp down the painted concrete. It was all the same. There were a few doctors that lead me through the never ending halls, Petra being the only one giving me comforting smiles while the other two stood beside and behind me with the same blank expression.
After what seemed like an eternity, I was finally turned towards a door; again, it was white with a small window in, like most of the doors. "Good luck." Petra smiled and with that, they all rushed away. I frowned a little and a long sigh escaped my lips before I pulled down the handle and peered slowly around the door. Flicking through the papers on his desk was a dark haired man with pale skin. As he didn't look up straight away, I frowned and knocked impatiently on the door which earned his glance. The first aspect of his face I noticed was his eyes: sharp and narrowed. They were a cold steel grey that made me feel instantly intimidated. I knew I didn't like it. However, I came to the conclusion that it was his natural expression so I pushed it aside. His thin lips stayed in a straight line and his eyebrows made hair seem like he was always scowling. There was something about his face that felt strongly familiar yet also intimidating.
"Eren Yeager..." He spoke in a monotonous voice, pulling me away from my thoughts. He pointed the pen in his hand to a chair on the other side of the desk. "Sit." I took one more look at him, scanning him before slipping inside and closing the door. "Well?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Well, what?" I mimicked him by raising my eyebrow back, figuring how to work my way around this guy so he'll just run away like the others.
"Are you going to sit down or are you just going to stand there like a moron?" He narrowed his eyes more and I felt irritation rise inside of me... Rude. I can already tell he's not like the others though. They're all so friendly and this guy? ... Well, let's just say he's not... Friendly. You know what I mean.
"Aren't you supposed to come to my ward instead of dragging me down into your office?" I mock in a cocky tone, intending to return the rude introduction he gave me.
"That's not how I do things, Mr Yeager." He spoke, straightening a collection of pencils on his extremely well organised desk. "You're looking for the help so you come to me. You will also listen to what I have to say and only speak when I say you can, do you understand?" Somehow, his voice stayed the same tone, I didn't like that at all. "Now sit." Instead of arguing this time, I moved to the chair and reluctantly sat down, facing him and his demonic glare. He leaned his elbows on the desk and his hands were linked, covering his mouth.
"You know, you could be a murderer. Or maybe even a complete pervert... Oooh, is that why you brought me down here in your little isolated office?" I smirked, chuckling childishly as I pushed further, attempting to irritate him as much as possible. He gave me a strange look as if to say: 'are you serious?'. But I wasn't done yet. "Well, I'm very flattered, sir, but I don't even know who you are. And also, I'm not gay."
He sighed and moved his hands away from his face, standing up and walking across the room to a chest of metal drawers, pulling it open and reaching in to grab a collection of paper. He's not very tall. About 5'3? I think I could take him in a fight. Maybe I should stop picking fights with people I don't even know.
"In fact, Mr Yeager," He walked around behind me and I felt my body involuntarily tense up. I didn't want to but I almost felt scared of him as he begins to circle around me like a predator hunting down his prey. "I know that you are actually gay. I also know that you act all tough and unfathomable but deep down you are sensitive, you are insecure."
"Huh?" My eyes widen as he slams the papers down onto the desk in front of me.
"You forget that we know everything about you." He leaned down to my ear, now speaking in a lower tone. "Including your sexuality... Mr Yeager, my name is Doctor Levi Ackerman and, whether you like it or not, I am here... And I'm not leaving." I felt myself frown more as he spoke. He's not staying, I will make him leave. "Now that we've got that interesting introduction out of the way, I can finally get to know you as a person and not just from a sheet of paper. Now, it says here that you suffer from quite a wide range of mental disorders: Depression, anxiety, anger issues, schizophrenia. All these tie in with some horrific nightmares you've been having, care to elaborate?"
Ah... Right, that was something I forgot to explain to you about myself. If you couldn't already tell from the fact that I'm locked in a mental asylum, I struggle with many disorders that affect my reactions to things. But what Doctor Ackerman clearly doesn't realise - or doesn't care to know - is that I don't like when people mention them. It makes me feel like another label, I don't like feeling that way. "What do you mean?"
"Is it not obvious what I mean? I want to know about these dreams you're having. Is it those things that trigger you to cause harm to yourself?" At that moment I felt anger boil in my veins.
"Don't. Mention. That." I growled through gritted teeth. How insensitive can he get?
"If you're looking for help we have to mention them. You've never told anyone about these dreams because they have never been recorded. Now, either every other doctor never got that far before you chased them away or you just never wanted to tell them." He spoke slowly, never averting his eyes from mine.
"There's nothing to tell," I shrug and cross one leg over the other, leaning back in the chair to look less uncomfortable. Doctor Ackerman tilted his head in confusion and narrowed his eyes. "I don't remember them."
"Any of them? No aspect at all?" He asks in slight astonishment in which I answered with a shake of my head. "Hm... Then how do you know that these nightmares are really happening?"
"It would be difficult to mistake the horrifying fear I wake up feeling with a dream about rainbows and unicorns." I answer sarcastically. He should definitely be able to tell that I'm done with him by now.
"I see..." He mumbles, clearly not getting the answer he was hoping for. "Well, I imagined that you would be difficult but not this difficult."
"Can I go now?" I groaned. "I have nothing more to tell you."
"But I have more to ask. I still have more to learn about you. No, you cannot leave." He murmured, scribbling down words on a piece of paper which irritated me a lot as I knew that everything he was writing was only about me. "Do you remember what your home life was like?"
I paused for a moment, staring him dead in the eye before sighing and letting my eyes wander around the room while I scanned over the memories in my brain to recall my home life. "It was lonely, I never really saw my parents. They hated me. I had a foster sister but she hated me too. I'm hardly the type of son or brother you would be proud of."
"I see..." He sighs, scribbling down almost every word I had said, aggravating me even further. "But you're an orphan now... That must be hard." I could tell he was trying his best to sound sympathetic. But to answer his question I just shrugged. "Do you miss them? Do you feel sadness?" He asked. I narrowed my eyes at him, biting hard on my lower lip.
"No."
"No?" He repeated, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "And why's that?"
"Because I killed my parents."
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