Chapter Text
Let’s start off from the beginning. Before his descent into the black abyss that was calling his name from the very start. Before he felt his walls
crumbling down around him, while they picked and nicked and poked and prodded until his protection wasn’t what it was supposed to be. He tried to build
them again, but what use was that while they continued to tear at the fresh wounds?
He was five. Young, fresh, and curious; like every other five year old on the planet we live on. However, Eren was slightly different. His parents knew this, but they couldn’t tell how. They just knew he was a slight contrast to the rest of the children his age. They wouldn’t be able to tell for at least another year or two, but the buds were definitely sprouting. And oh, were they beautiful.
Eren was intelligent, very much so, and he used every piece of his intelligence and massive memory bank to store as much knowledge as he could from young. He read from dawn to dusk, studied instead of going outside to play in the dirt and sand like the other five year olds. His parents loved it, thought they were graced with a quiet child but little did they know the bright brain that was hidden in the developing skull of their child. It was so bright, it shone through the glittering and priceless jewels they called irises in his eyes. His mother claimed that she could see the secrets of the universe in them, and it made him feel a little more proud every time she did.
He loved his mother and father dearly. And they loved him too.
His mother spent as much time as she could, reading books to him before he fell asleep, explaining new things and speaking to him in different languages. He soaked them up like a sponge, the information being absorbed as easily as water; yet the sponge never overflowed- never stopped pulling in the water as if it was severely dehydrated. Like a cactus in the desert, it stored the information for a later date and Carla loved how much her son adored learning.
What more could a parent want?
His father was even more ecstatic about it. Being a man of science and knowledge, he told his son as much as his small five year old brain could handle (which was a lot more than he expected). Add on the fact that Eren loved learning about the human body, and you have a very happy couple of parents willing to show their child the world.
Despite preferring to learn instead of going outside to play, he did have one friend who enjoyed his pastimes as much as he did. He didn’t remember the boy’s name (he was pretty sure it was a boy), but he remembered how much fun they used to have. They shared a favourite book about the ocean. He remembered the colourful drawings of the white sand that looked as soft as flour. He remembered the ocean, which shone a similar colour to his eyes as other people claimed. The water had looked so warm, so inviting, he was almost disappointed (who was he kidding? He was completely disappointed) when he saw his own British beach at home. Their parents (both his and the little boy’s) brought them to a weekend at the beach during their fifth summer. The boys stood in front of the dark and murky blue waters, staring at it in confusion.
Where was the warm summer’s breeze that was supposed to carry the salty smell of the ocean? Where were the beautiful sea birds- swooping around looking majestic? All he could smell was the slight stench of cigarettes and chips being made by the pier. It didn’t help that the wind was threatening to lift him off his feet.
“Wasn’t the sea supposed to be lighter than this?” Eren asked, his young voice barely making it to his parents ears over the loud crashes of the waves.
“Yes, in hotter countries. Over here, it’s not warm enough for the sea to look like that.” Carla, Eren’s mother answered. Her eyes crinkled in the corners, with some emotion Eren didn’t know until later as ‘fondness’.
“Maybe when you’re older, we’ll take you two on another trip to the Caribbean. You two would love it there.” Grisha added, walking over to link his hands with his wife as he smiled over at the two boys.
Eren and his friend looked at each other, and Eren can distinctly remember the cornflower blue eyes that stared deep into him. As if they were analysing him from inside out. They shone with the brilliance of the skies, clear as day and always calmed Eren down when they sparkled in the (admittedly dim) sunlight.
They grinned in synchronisation, before turning to their parents and nodding their heads vigorously.
They liked that idea.
Although Eren couldn’t recall the boy’s name, this friend of his definitely held a significant place in his heart. A lot of his early memories were with him, like when they went to their first library together. The books were everywhere, every one of them having their own topic and research put into them, some dating as old as the eighteenth century. They took their time going through each book, saving the best for last on their list. Eventually, the library owner learnt their names off by heart and didn’t even bother to ask them to write their names down if they took a book home. They knew that they would receive the book again the next day.
They visited the library often enough for the library owner to know that. Even until this day, the library was still a favourite place of his. It never failed to calm him down when he needed it most.
One of Eren’s favourite types of books was the ones where he was constantly learning new things from it. Whether it was astrology or biology; Law to Mathematics, he couldn’t put the book down if it was teaching him new things. The books he used to read back then were not as complicated as the ones he read now, but they were still more advanced than the stuff other children were reading. Both he and his friend were ahead of their class but they didn’t mind. His childhood friend still called him a bookworm, and he just smiled and laughed it off. He used to reply with “ Tis your own dirty image you see; for I am so clean – without blemish or blot – That your blackness is mirrored in me.”
His young tongue couldn’t form the words as clear as he would’ve liked, but they both knew where the phrase had come from and therefore the joke still ran for as long as he was called Bookworm.
(He secretly liked that nickname. Soon, he began to answer to it whenever his friend called for him. It was their little way of keeping intimate and close.)
His friend adored books about nature though, which is how they came to love the sea. His friend always carried nature books on him, and even got Eren hooked on little programs like “Crocodile Hunter” and “March of the Penguins”. He remembered sitting in the sofa, huddling close with a bunch of cushions and blankets covering their small wriggling bodies while they sat and watched the small penguins waddle across their screen in bright, attractive colours.
Or another in memory, where they would both lie in the park during the warmer springs; both of them had Hay fever, but they dutifully took their medication and headed out in the pollen filled field when they could. The flowers sprouting beside them, and the grass covered in dew drops from the rain that happened each night created a pretty and serene sight; it was calming for the two of them. Their parents, (especially their mothers) would get mad every time, telling them the dangers that they would catch a cold if they continued doing that. His friend would apologise with a grin in place while Eren would let it fly through one ear and float out the other. Completely memorised but never taken in and understood.
Or even another memory, where they’re both on one of their beds (he couldn’t tell whose) and they were sitting so close, their knees knocked against each other whenever one of the boys moved. Neither of them minded though. During these times, they’d have heated discussions, talking animatedly about one thing or another. Sometimes it was about what happened during school that day, or something they had seen while watching TV or reading a book. They never had one boring day together. He could even remember when they used to lean forward and he used to be able to reach out and tickle the other relentlessly; or when they would flop backwards side by side, connected at the shoulders.
He remembers the way how his friend’s hair would tickle his ear and shoulder while they lay like this, but he couldn’t remember their face whenever he tried to drag it out from the black holes in his mind. He knows his memory is amazing, so why couldn’t he remember the important things?
It’s weird how he could remember the smallest details.
He could remember the way how his friend would giggle every time he snorted when they laughed, he could remember the sound of his friend calling his name. It was a high pitched one, but always clear and always happy. The voice was always cheerful and urgent, always calling his name whenever they had found something new.
Until one day, when it was dull and dreary.
He can’t remember their last encounter clearly at all, but for that he was glad. It was all tears and snot, all promises to keep in touch, yet; where did those promises go? He remembers hearing his own voice, as if it was from a third persons view, pleading his friend to stay. His friend clung on just as hard, and it took both their parents pulling and cajoling for them to separate. But no amount of bribing could keep them from linking their fingers together in a promise. Eren can still feel the slightly moist from sweat, pinkie-finger wrapping around his own chubbier one. He can still see the contrast in his best friend’s milky pale hand against his much more tanned and caramel complexion.
Yet those words, those important... dear words that they had uttered to one another were faded in his mind. But as he said- maybe that was for the best.
Up until this day, all Eren knew was that- that childhood friend had moved away and left him. He couldn’t remember the reason why and couldn’t remember their face.
Why couldn’t he remember their face?
Sometimes, Eren can still hear that voice in his head, calling out to him for them to read another book...
But that’s all in the past now.
He knows they had kept their promises to one another for a while. Maybe a year or two but they lost contact. Maybe the boy had moved again, or maybe Eren had intentionally lost contact. Was that when he cut of contact? No, that would be too early.
But Eren’s pretty sure, if he had to consider anyone a friend; it would’ve been that boy. The one, singular person (except for the obvious people who had to love him) who took him for him and accepted Eren’s all. Never once did he decline the whole package even including Eren’s intelligence. In fact, the boy rivalled his intelligence with his own. Later on, Eren would call them platonic soul mates.
And up until this day, the only thing he regrets is letting his best friend slide through his fingers so easily. Maybe if he hadn’t, maybe his life would’ve turned out differently. Maybe he could’ve been happier, or maybe the complete opposite. No one knows what would’ve happened except god.
If God even existed.
His mother thought he did. His mother spent a lot of time praying, for him and his father and other family members. She prayed in the morning when she woke up, and in the evening before she went to bed. She always told him that he didn’t need to be religious if he didn’t want to be, but the thought comforted him. Sometimes when he felt scared, a little after this mysterious boy had left his life; he could recall himself praying in his bed for protection and the hopes that one day his friend would return.
Because who could’ve known the turn his life took next? It wasn’t a large turn, quite small actually... but it was the turning point. After it, nothing was the same and Eren could tell.
He was around what... Eight? But he could still tell that things were changing in his life. His friend had left when he was still seven but he was eight when the first crack in his wall appeared; when everything about him finally fell into place and why he was so different from every else his age. It fell like dominoes and Eren began to wonder why he didn’t see something like this sooner, because it was pretty obvious now that he looks back on it. Or well, when he looked back from that age.
His mother would claim, “it’s not you honey... they just don’t know”. But Eren knew, and he assumed that’s why it happened. After all, why else would it happen?
TBC