My Dear Historia

Chapter 4 -The Middleman

"Come on! Work with me man! Look at this!? It must be worth at least double what you're offering!" Ymir held up a dazzling red gem attached to a golden chain. It glistened as she dangled it in front of the pawn shop owner.

"Kid, you know the policy. Little thief's, get little money." He slapped the bills on the counter. Even though she wanted more, it was still an impressive amount.

"Aw come on! I even brought those extra loafs of bread for your little brats." Ymir smirked Pointing at two small children playing right outside of their father's pawn shop. The older of the two suddenly kicked a ball at his younger sibling's head. The brunette winced as the small child hit the ground crying.

"Ya I know. Heard Jeremy screaming at you all the way from here." He smirked, throwing some extra coins on the counter before turning his attention to his two young sons. "KEITH! SETH DOESN'T NEED ANYMORE BRAIN DAMAGE!" He yelled at them. Ymir looked around to guarantee that no one was watching her before not only grabbing the money she had earned, but also some of the items she may have happened to have just sold.

"Kids. I owe them." She grinned as she made her way down the street. She pulled a piece of stolen bread from her pocket and chewed upon it carelessly.

It had been over a year since she was able to sneak her way into the walls. It was easy getting by the large giants that over ran what was apparently called Trost District. Deserted and ruined, Ymir could only imagine what had transpired when the so-called colossal titan broke through the walls.

Since then, she had made it on her own. She stole and she sold. She was in a new place, a new country but, people were still just that, people. It was interesting to see that the so-called devils Marley was so afraid of were just hordes of sheep stuck in a pen ruled by a corrupt government. Ironic. The poor were still poor, and the rich were still rich. As she kept herself lost in thought, she heard voices coming from a nearby alley way that grabbed the young woman's curiosity.

"Hand it over you cow shit hick!" A hoarse voice growled as she made her way down the deserted backstreet. She paused, still chewing on her bread. A man was holding a young boy, a little younger than her, by his white collared shirt. His back was up against the damp cool wall. The boy had dark blonde hair, his brown eyes blood shot from being strangled by his own shirt.

"P-please. I can't s-s-spare a-anything! My f-f-f-farm needs it to get th-th-through the winter!" He choked.

"We all need the damn money you stuttering brat!" The shabby man pulled out a small switch knife and held it to the poor boy's throat.

"Excuse me. I hope I'm not interrupting something?" Ymir walked up to them casually munching on her snack, one hand in her pocket. Both males looked at the scrawny brunette in confusion.

"H-h-help." The boy whimpered pathetically.

"Get out of here bitch! This is none of your business!" The man shooed her away. Ymir swallowed, wiping the crumbs from her mouth.

"Why? Do you feal threatened by a little thing like me?" Ymir smirked. She saw the man's eyebrow twitch. He did as she wanted and dropped the young boy. He landed with a grunt.

"Maybe your ears don't work so well kid." It was the collar of Ymir's hoodie that he grabbed onto next. He lifted her a little. She was taller than him, of course. She was taller than most grubby old men. He stood her on her tippy toes and sneered, knife to her throat. His breath made her wince.