FicWad

“Who… who did this to you?” Armin asked shakily. He was holding Krista’s right arm so that the palm faced upwards. “Who hurt you?”
Scabbing red marks slashed across her forearm.
“N-no one…” she muttered, trying to snatch her hand back. Armin held an iron grip.
“Tell me, Krista.”
“It’s nothing!” She whimpered as she pulled her hand free. “Leave me alone!”
She rushed back down the hallway to her room and slammed the door. Worry darkened Armin’s gaze as he walked to the library.
Tears streamed down Krista’s cheeks as she clutched her arm to her chest.
“You don’t belong here!” Her father hissed.
“I just came back to-” Historia started.
“No need for excuses. Get out of here now!”
“Father, please!” Her brother snorted. “Have some decency. If she wants to join peasants in the outer wall and be in the military, who are you to stop her?”
“They’re not peasants!” Historia defended herself. “They’re kind people! Father please, I graduated yesterday and only came back to say goodbye!”
“You said goodbye four years ago when we banished you from this family, you brat!”
“Father… I hardly know you anymore…”
“I was about to forget you when you came crawling back here like the slug you are!”
Memories of that day flooded back into view. I wish I could forget you… she thought dejectedly. She glanced back up at the bloodied knife on her bookshelf. With a shaking hand, she reached for it.
“Krista?” Ymir’s voice sounded from behind her door.
“Yes?” Krista tried to sound strong for her friend as she made another cut on her forearm.
“Armin told me what happened. Can I see your arm?”
“Go away!” she barked, her voice cracking.
“Krista, I-”
“Leave me alone!”
Krista’s voice broke and she clutched the handle of the knife harder. Scarlet blood soaked into her uniform.
“Is she okay?” She heard Armin’s hushed voice from beyond the door.
“I don’t know, she wouldn’t let me in,” Ymir answered.
One set of footsteps echoed away into the distance.
“Historia,” Ymir growled through the door, “let me in.”
“Don’t call me that…”
“Why not, it’s your real name isn’t it?”
“Too many bad memories…” She made another, deeper, cut just below her thumb. Warm tears rolled down her cheek.
Blood trickled from her elbow to the wood floor below her, making a soft drip… drip… drip… noise.
“Historia Reiss, I hereby forbid you from this family,” Her father snarled.
“Father, no!” Historia protested.
“You shall not go by Historia Reiss anymore. From now on you are known as Krista Lenz. Get out of my sight, you disgusting piece of filth!”
“Betrayal!”
“Peasant!”
“Bitch!”
Jeers were thrown at her from her family members, or at least they used to be. Historia Reiss, Krista Lenz. Who was she?
Krista dropped the knife with a soft clang and curled into a ball. She rested her head in her folded arms and began to cry.
Ymir managed to pick the lock and she swung open the door to see a knife in a pool of blood next to Krista. Her poor blonde-haired friend was resting her head in her arms, sobbing.
“Krista, what happened?!”
“I… I don’t…” She stammered as she looked up. Grief lined her tone.
“I told you to stop doing this!”
“I couldn’t help it… the pain was too much to bear!”
“That’s hardly an excuse!” Ymir growled as she hurried over to a drawer. She grabbed a stretch of cloth and knelt down in front of Krista.
“Give me your arm.” Ymir ordered.
Krista didn’t reply. She sat there, motionless. The knife was clutched in a shaking hand.
“Krista?”
Ymir looked down in horror. Deep slits on Krista’s wrists had been made, and blood still poured from the wounds.
“Goodbye, Ymir…” Krista breathed.
“Krista!” Ymir exclaimed hysterically.
The knife dropped from Krista’s limp hand.
The knife dropped from Historia’s limp hand.