TEN YEARS, The Kenny Ackerman Story BOOK TWO~ FUTURES, by Melly O'Hara

WALLS

Like a leaf in the wind, tossed and discarded, I realised that they were talking about Kenny. Only those with power now, spoke about Kenny that way; as Uri's charity case, his stray. And never to his face. Except Rod. Rod had no fear of Kenny, no shame. Rod knew that the power that had bound Kenny to Uri, extended to him, because he was Uri's brother; a Reiss with his own knowledge. And from Rod, Kenny took it. Maybe it was because Kenny had always seen right through him, that Rod's barbs and insults meant nothing and washed over Kenny, like water off a duck's back. But it was more likely that Kenny was just biding his time, until Rod slipped up and revealed where the serum was hidden.
Either way, each of them tolerated the other.

And now, surely, they must be together,  with the rest of the Royal family, in their designated safe area? I didn't even know where that was, or even that a haven existed. In the complacency of our life together, it had never occurred to me to ask, 'What happens in a time of emergency?'
Besides, Paradise hadn't been attacked in over one hundred years. No one alive remembered anything but peace.
Our walls kept us safe.

I was still convinced that something must have gone wrong with the Queen's Titan powers, that had caused this horror. After all, the titans that roamed outside the walls of Paradise had never been powerful enough to breach them, or threaten our caged security. So it seemed obvious that this must be the result of a teenage Queen unable, or unwilling, to control her power. Which meant that the control and mercy that Uri had shown toward Kenny when Kenny had come across Uri in his Titan form, was not guaranteed to be shown now by Queen Frieda to Kenny. Not if she had lost control enough to attack her own people. My panic grew as I realised that, as body guard to the Royals, Kenny must be with the Queen. And though an Ackerman, he was in danger.
Frantically grabbing anyone that walked past, I pleaded for any information of Kenny's whereabouts, and tried to warn them, "It was the Queen!" I screamed. "The Queen has done this!" to shouts of, "Shut this woman up! For God's sake, shut her up and get her the hell out of here!" Shaken loose and discarded, the Palace guards, my very comrades, were ordered to remove me and place me under house arrest in our quarters.

Outside my windows I could see the continuing madness, of a people filled with fear. With doubt. Bereft of the calm certainty and blissful ignorance that had held their little lives together, panic had taken hold and refused to release them, us, from its vice-like grip. Their cries of terror muffled, by the walls, of our home.
In the silent, stillness of our lounge, I sat. I waited. I cried. I prayed. Wandering from the comfortable, deep tan, leather sofa to the oak bookshelf that held the portraits of us. And back again across the well worn, red and yellow rug, so faded now that the pattern was no longer distinguishable and was just a blur of indistinct shapes; I eventually made my way to the bar. Nestled in the corner of the room, its rich, deep wood smooth and cool to my touch, I reached for Kenny's whiskey and poured myself a drink.

"At least we always have whiskey", I thought to myself as the alcohol burned my throat.
"Well, being married to Kenny, that was a no brainer!" my thoughts answered.

The afternoon wore on and disappeared into sunset, then twilight. I lit the lanterns; illuminating the emptiness.

"This is what it will be like if he doesn't come back", I thought.

The pain cut through me like a knife, searing my mind, engulfing my body; until it became unbearable. As if there was no possible way, a human body could keep living with the unrelenting loss and void that had taken up residence inside me, where only this morning love had lived.
How was it that I'd lived most of my life alone, content without him and now the very thought of going back to that life seemed like some kind of unbearable, endless punishment?
Where even oblivion seemed like a mercy, compared to facing the yawning chasm of the years ahead without him?

"Well maybe I'll get eaten by the titan, and I won't have to worry!" I thought to myself, laughing a little hysterically, and pouring myself another whiskey.

God is merciful. The whiskey worked its magic before true hysteria set in, and clutching the whiskey bottle in one hand, ( I'd dispensed with the unnecessary use of the glass), I made my way to the sofa, pulled the soft brown mohair blanket around me, and passed out.

Shaking me gently, it was well after midnight, close to dawn, when he returned. Blearily looking up into his tired,  mildly amused face, hovering over me, my tears found there release.

"Oh God, you're home. You're safe. Oh God. Oh God", I repeated between sobs, as I pulled him down to me, clinging desperately to his neck.

Crouching beside the sofa, he held me. Wordlessly stroking my hair. Giving into my grasping embrace. When the sobs abated and I was sure that he was real, not an apparition, that he wouldn't disappear the moment I no longer held him; I released him.
Raising myself into a sitting position on the sofa, I made room for him to sit beside me. Slowly, as if he had aged twenty years, he straightened his long legs and seated himself next to me.
He breathed a weary sigh, and removing his hat, smoothed back his shoulder length hair.

Reaching down for the near empty whiskey bottle that lay on its side, beside the sofa, he gave me a worn smile, "Ya been at my whiskey, Owl? Hell, can't leave ya alone for five minutes without ya stealin' my booze! Ya know that I'm the designated drunk in this family!" he jibbed half-heartedly.

"What is it Kenny? What happened? It was the Queen wasn't it? She attacked us, didn't she? After all, none of the other titans have ever broken through our walls. And you said that the Royal Titan is different. It  WAS her, wasn't it?" I asked, wishing that I sounded less demanding, fully cognisant of the exhaustion that enveloped him.  " I'm sorry Kenny. Forget I asked. You sleep. Just sleep now."

"Nope. Worse than that. Much worse", he said, his voice washed out and resigned.
"It weren't the Queen. Frieda's dead.
They're all dead.
All of them.
Every last Royal.
It's over.
Paradise is over"