Short Stories (Fanmade)

It might be impertinent to say this, but I've never really felt alive. Or it's more apt to say that I don't remember the last time that I really felt this alive. By the time I was able to think for myself, which I believe was much earlier than those of my age, I realised that nothing around me was exciting enough for me to live for. Everything that occurred around me seemed pre-ordained. The world felt like an invisible cage to me.

My memories begin sometime before I was four years old. Sometime around then, my parents decided to abandon me with my grandfather and leave our district. I never saw them ever again, and till date, I do not know know what became of their fates. Where they went to or why; are no longer concerns of mine. And with the world as it is now, I no longer have the leeway to hold such concerns anyway.

I spent my early years helping my final living relative, my grandfather, with his farming. The days as they passed us by, were dull but peaceful. And each day's monotonous routine was only broken by the stories he told me every night. Knights? Adventurers? Heroes? They held my rapt attention as he spoke of tales that sounded like they were from a world, which I could never imagine then.

"Are there people outside the walls?"

I remember asking this question to him the very first time he told me a story. He looked away from me and didn't answer me. Why doesn't he answer me? What happened? Why is he silent?

Eventually, as I grew up, I learned the answer to that question on my own. Life has a way of teaching you cruel truths as you grow. The outside world was desolated and devoid of all life. We are apparently the last living humans in this world. Everything and everyone else that walked our world were laid to waste; by The Titans.

Gigantic humanoid beings who preyed on us and decimated all of humanity until the we ended up building the three walls which now protect us. Back then, I found it hard to believe that they were real. I believed them a lie, like the tales my grandfather told me. Maybe we were always like this, and came up with something so ridiculous to justify our sloth. But I was soon proven wrong, and I witnessed for the first time why humanity was powerless in the face of the titans.

A returning unit of the Survey Corp. passed through our town. The carpenter across the street was more excited to see the scouts than us all. If my memory serves right, his nephew was a member of the scouts who joined them a year ago. He excitement soon turned into sorrow when they told him the youth died on the expedition. I still remember the shrieks of the man as he received the news. The town spat curses at the regiment as they passed them by. None dared attack them, but kept on insulting the already broken soldiers who returned to safety.

This was when I discovered my disdain for the people who surrounded me. Here were a brave group of men and women who ventured out of the walls to unknown territory, to bring us undiscovered truths of the world outside. A world where anything could happen to them. Success and decimation were only separated by a thin line there. And yet, where they should be lauded for their bravery, they received insults and were vilified to no end. To the young me, whatever lay beyond the walls excited me much more than what lay inside. And the ones who ventured out there, were more heroic to me, than any others from the tales I heard before.

But I was not the only one with such thoughts. Among the irate crowd, I spotted someone else, for a passing moment. A face that was excited for the returning Scouts and angry at the mob for how they treated the brave heroes.

I believe that this was my very first contact with the boy who would become my closest friend, Eren Jaeger.

It still took a few more years from then, before I met him face to face. By that time, I had grown up and was much more distant from my younger cockiness. I no longer held a huge disdain for the people around me. Their world was confined to this town and the walls which protected them. Mine, lay beyond this wall, and was filled with wonders they could never imagine, I told myself. They would gladly do all they could to maintain their normalcy but I would do all I can to escape mine. The world around me grew more colourless with each passing day, and I pined for something to break this monotony. The endless land which extended far beyond what my eye could see, the large pool of salt water with no end. I longed to see them all with my own eyes.

Then one day, with a sudden thought, something changed in me. It was like a pail of cold water poured over the fire I treasured in my heart. A cruel realisation dawned on me.

There must have been many more dreamers like me. People who wanted to leave this town. People who wanted to know what lay beyond. Did they all achieve it? Did their dreams come true?

And my mind filled in those new questions all on its own.

No. They all failed. No one left this town. They all came to life, lived and died here, never venturing out and only dreamt, like me, of the outside. If anyone actually did it, then we would all know about it. No way would someone who ventured out stay silent about it. If anyone saw something as miraculous as the endless land covered with sand, with their own eyes; no way in hell would they keep quiet about it.

It slowly dawned on me that this world isn't going to change despite my will. Someday, even I will die here in this land. I will never be able to see what's outside. Maybe my life is destined to be confined within these walls. No matter how much I dream, the cold reality will anchor me here, and eat into my spirit. Looking back on it, I'm surprised that I ever was such a pessimist.

Anyway, this depressing thought gnawed at me. Every fiber of my being was rendered null by it. I found that I could no longer maintain my will to live and began to become more and more withdrawn.

I began to get beaten up and bullied more. But I no longer cared much for myself then. These fools who beat me because I'm different. Everyone. We were all destined to be born here and unceremoniously die here. Our lives were meaningless. It's a cycle of birth and death with no end in sight.

The only solace that I found, in this pit of hopelessness I drowned myself in, was the company of Eren. He saved me often from my bullies only to get beaten up himself. He still believed in my old dreams. He still believed in the lands that lay outside. His eyes were still alive, while mine was not. And bit by bit, a will to face the world, was slowly born in me. I had no other choice. I must live and find meaning with this life I have. This life, within which I find no difference from being dead. I must fight and find a way to live.

Because, I was born in this world.

While I never outwardly showed it, I began to feel more alive, but never as I formerly were. A tiny glimpse of hope rose within me, like a seed that spouted in harsh land. Maybe. Just maybe. I'll leave this place. Maybe, I'll find an escape. I began to look forward to such a day. The time I spent with Eren and Mikasa, began to bring me a semblance of optimism. My fighting will would not be stamped down.

If the world around me didn't want to break down its normalcy and venture out, then I would shatter it completely and force them out. I will make sure to provide them no choice but to seek what lay beyond, with me. They will finally see their folly and see the world within my dreams. A world of endless possibilities. A world that was truly alive.

It was as if the Universe responded to my unfulfilled dream on its own. The normalcy that this world treasured, was obliterated. Every semblance of hopelessness within me, was obliterated. The gate guarding the wall, was obliterated.

All it took, was a bolt of lightning.

- Transcribed excerpts from the Memoirs of Armin Arlert, 104th Training Cadre, Scouting Corps.