Marco x Mikasa (MikaMaro)

Chapter 4

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~Mikasa's POV~

Jean and I were dancing hand in hand very close to a German waltz, I didn't know the name of it. But I could remember it from my childhood. "Come on Mikasa, smile for the people." Jean was tightly smiling as he spoke, looking to the people sitting in their fancy ballroom seats. I looked around, but there was no one there.

"Jean?"

"Come on Mikasa." He said through his gritted smile.

"Jean . . . there's no one here?" I mumbled lowly, still keeping in step with him. He twirled me around, made a dip and pulled me back up, chest to chest. We went forward and the music changed to salsa. I looked down to my dress which was once green, and now blood red and ruffled.

"Mikasa, I'm not going to ask you again . . . smile. For. The. People."

"Jean there isn't anyone here-"

He slapped me as if his hand were made of solid steel. I dropped to the ground and my dress was torn by the hem and strap. I opened and looked up to be on my balcony, Bertholdt and Reiner were looking at me in worry. I struggled to get up and fix myself.

"I said smile Mikasa."

I looked to the guys, Bertholdt was sweating and Reiner stood there, not knowing what to do. I looked down and my clothes turned orange with a cell mate number on it, the date of when we started to first date. I got up wearily, and looked to Jean's face for any signs of sympathy. Yet, nothing.

"Smile." He grabbed my arm with a deadly grip and held me against the wall of his room. Bertholdt's and Reiner's body vanished into mist. He tore my scarf off and started to kiss my neck. "Come on, smile!" He exerted his voice and yelled softly into my ear. He threw me on the ground and I guarded my face, that of which he so desperately wanted to kick. He ended kicking under my biceps and parts of my wrists. I stood silent and resilient after each blow. I couldn't speak and when I tried, some force of gravity kept me from doing so. He gave me one last kick to the stomach and spat on me. "Smile." Before I could even get up, he dragged me by my ankles and picked me up, then threw me onto his bed. Before I crashed into his sheets, it turned into dingy green water. I was in my red yoga shorts and white tank. I tried swimming up to the surface where beautiful rays of sunlight gleamed through the water, a chain and ball held me by the ankle from going any further. And Jean was there at the bottom, evilly grinning to me. I couldn't breathe, and I wouldn't give into his strange request of smiling. My heart was racing and I kept pulling on the chain to get out. Yet to no avail, it wouldn't budge and I had to accept my fate of death. I kept kicking in the water, holding my neck and the last thing I saw was Jean looking to me, smiling.

RA BUMP AH BUMP AH BUMP BUMPA BUMPA AHH! OOO I SEE YA OO I SEE YAH! I-I-I-I-I I'M AN ALBATRAOZ! RA BUM--

My God Marco, what a wonderful way to wake up. It was an alarm coming from Marco's alarm clock. It was 5 am already. My heart was racing and I stood still to calm down, both from the alarm and dream-well nightmare really. I felt a knot in my throat from it all, it took me at least a minute. My vision was hazed, but I managed to knock it over and get some more sleep.

But alas, I could not. Nor wouldn't I didn't want those images in my mind again. It felt so real. Throughout the entire time, I did not cry nor have any emotion besides inner fear. I just wanted it to cease. I was so stoic. But in reality when those things happened, I was wailing and screaming, begging him to stop. After thirty minutes of trying to relax, I finally sat up in the plush and cloud-like blankets.