Pure (Ereri)✔

3

Two days left.

After that she'll tell them, and the day after that she'll leave. She can't do that to them. She can't. I won't let her.

I don't think my mind is doing so good. I wouldn't think that normal people see blood flood out from the flesh of a cucumber when they attempt to cut it. But what do I know.

Petra came into the kitchen, and without thinking I turned around the knife in my hand. My hands prepared themselves to stab. Just as they so usually did in my dreams, causing the deep circles underneath my eyes.

Stab her.

No Armin would see me.

Make it look like she took her own life.

No they would blame themselves.

Make it look like an accident.

That might just work.

Kill her.

She couldn't break us down again. She couldn't crush the false hope she'd once again had created. But if I ended her existence she couldn't return. It would be a last strike against us, and after that she wouldn't come back. That was for the best. Hope was dangerous.

She needed to die.

At some point everyone dies.

And the longer it takes to get to that point, the more it hurts.

Not for you of course. But the people that are left in the ruins of your unfinished life.

The thing is that, it doesn't matter who you are. It doesn't matter what you've done. Because in the end, we're all the same.

I didn't make it into an accident.

Seems like a waste of trouble, when a murderer is running free. All it took was to pull a trigger in some place that wasn't home. After that she was dead. After that she couldn't hurt us anymore. And when the police came to our home I felt relieved.

It was over.

Once again they swallowed my lies without a single doubt.

Fucking idiots.

The gun was once again trapped inside my drawer.

It waited for me.

It didn't stop.

The dreams only got worse, and some even involved me killing Hanji or Armin. When I woke up in cold sweat with blood in my mouth, I couldn't breath.

Why couldn't it stop? I needed it to stop.

I couldn't take it.

The touch of Armin's blood on my skin was too much. Too real. It didn't matter how many times I washed my hands, it was still there. Refusing to leave. Just like the stain on the kitchen floor. I'd gotten so used to it that I barely thought about it anymore.

I'd thought that Eren would isolate himself from the world again.

But he didn't.

As a matter of fact he stayed closer. Almost never leaving me alone. Armin and Hanji started spending more time on pointless experiments but it was their way of grief, so I let them. Armin didn't know Petra that well, but he could feel how the tension had changed. The daily running session became a part of my schedule again and also in Eren's. The image of how the crimson drops looked became more distant, almost giving me hope.

But that didn't stop it from coming back during nightfall.

Armin stayed in Eren's room and Hanji had her horde of spiders. I was left alone with that sticky feeling on my hands. Sleeping still seemed impossible.

Guilt weighed me down.

But I still didn't have any regrets.