The Black Star

Chapter One: Prolog

Pain, pain rushed through my body as I fell to the floor, all I could feel was a sharp pain. A tall, dark figure stood over me. Another wave of pain rushed trough my body as I was slammed against the wall.My vision went blurry as I slowly blanked out. I faded into a dream, in the dream I was warm, wrapped in a blanket sitting on the couch with a woman I did not recognize. She was in her mid-forties with long, dark brown hair tied into a tight ponytail, she was beautiful. She turned to me and gave me a warm smile and I moved closer to snuggle up to her. Who was she? I had just addressed her with the word "Mother". Ah, that's right, she was my mother! But I had no mother. My dream slowly faded away. The sound of loud cars honking woke me up abruptly. It was bright but was not warm like in my dream, where was I now? I pulled up my hand to scratch my forehead to notice there was some warm, red liquid. I looked down to find out it was all over the place, I was bleeding. I didn't feel very well, I gripped onto the hard, brick wall behind me to help me get up, but to no avail. I then throw up all over the floor, it mostly being all blood. Where was my father? Probably off in some bar, he typically left me by myself. My wounds began to ache even harder, I could feel my pulse through the gaping scrapes in my body. I wondered when Father would return?

It had fallen dark and father was yet to return. I figured that I probably should go to bed. I lied down on the hard, concrete floor and slowly drifted asleep. I was yet again woken by the sound of cars. My father had still not returned. It had already been 24 hours and he was still gone. I couldn't believe him. Sometimes I'd wonder if he even cared. I looked down at my wounds once more, I had wrapped them around in my old, torn up shirt, my bra being the only thing I was wearing. This wasn't the first time I had been left with gaping wounds, but I learned how to take care of them. I had never been left alone on the streets before though, only at our old, abandoned house. I wanted to ask for help, but the only time father would ever let me see people is when he would go out to his clubs and bars, I was afraid. I had hidden behind one of the dumpsters in that alley, and no one had yet to notice. "But what had happened this time?" I thought, trying not to squeal in pain from the damage he had left. It was at that moment I remembered , my father had taken me out once again to a bar, he had gotten drunk and once again beaten me up but this time he left me to die. It was almost the end of my second day there and I came to the conclusion that he had left me. I was cold, thirsty and hungry at that point but what could I do? I would do something the next morning.

This time I was not woken by car lights but instead my someone shaking me. It was a boy, around my age, maybe 12 or 13, he had shaggy dark brown hair and these beautiful blue eyes. He asked if I was okay, I nodded. "Hi, I'm Eren," he said nervously as he scratched the back of his neck "I'm Karla," I said in response. We got to talking and turns out he was an orphan, his dad had died before he was born and his mother committed suicide when he was 8. I told him my story, about my abusive dad and basically living off of a few cents. It was after that day that Eren Yeager and I would stick together. We left soon after, traveling from place to place trying to find the perfect "home". We scavenged for food,  water, and warmth and always had each other. It was he that gave me strength.