Behind The Curtain (EREN X LEVI FANFICTION)

Chapter 3: Home

Dark, musty, dust scattered on the floors,

The place I detest yet my dwelling since young,

Cold, alone, cracks through the doors,

Not a place I'd call safe, but it's where I belong,

Dirt, mould, stains on the walls,

The air inhaled is toxic, unclean,

Damp, gross, infestation that crawls,

Living is a nightmare pulled straight from hell's seams,

Screams, bangs, gunshots on the street,

The violence, a reminder not to get in the way,

Tired, deprived, nights of broken sleep,

I'm only alive because the air in me still breathes,

Drugs, booze, a sickening way to cope,

An addiction to conceal the agonising truth,

Weak, vague, falling down a deep slope,

Trying to get back what I lost in my youth,

A poem by Levi Ackerman

It's night. The air is cold against Levi's skin and causes constant shivers to overwhelm his body. The darkened street he walks down is reminiscent of his old childhood home, a place where the scent of death lingered and poverty was more common than the common cold. Although his current area of residence is a step up from the garbage-infested dumps he used to roll around in, it certainly isn't the paradise depicted in the movies. Back when he was young, he used to just be thankful he had a roof over his head and food to eat. He never realised the walls were deteriorating from water damage or that the tiled floor was broken and misplaced. Now that he's older he realises the disgusting living conditions he had to put up with and is eternally grateful life gave him a second chance at achieving more than what he had. Even if the circumstances for that change were regrettable and continuously haunt his dreams. 

The neighbourhood he grew up in was always flooded with pollution. Every house had a smashed window and a door that had been kicked in at least once during its lifetime. Each building was likely to fall over if you poked it with the weak materials they were made from. Not one person on that street knew how to clean and because of this most buildings ended up rotting away due to mould and mildew contaminating each property. It's no wonder most people died in their sleep from inhaling too many toxins. Levi almost feels lucky, but as he takes an especially long drag of his half-finished cigarette it's safe to say that if the poisonous toxins of his old home didn't kill him, the toxin in his filthy habit will.

The streetlights are his guide toward the house he now resides in, a small flat at the end of the town, the very last on the isolated block. A corner shop that has closed for the day is a few buildings down from where Levi lives and he looks upon it fondly as he walks by. Many times he has found himself purchasing the odd bottle of scotch or pack of cigarettes and when he runs out of milk, he frequently visits. Sometimes it's his only relief from his houseguests.  

Then finally he makes it home. A brown wooden box with a broken tiled roof wearing random sheets of tin covering up loose spots. A rusted chain-link fence lining the perimeter. A garden bed at the door of the house with no plants. Just dirt. Levi puffs out the last breath of his smoke and throws the butt to the ground, standing on it to completely put it out. He steps over the front gate, the height only coming to just above his knees, and marches on to the front door. The flyscreen door is barely hanging onto its hinges and the screen itself has holes in it. Not exactly a functioning door, but when his childhood home had no door at all, he appreciates even half a door. Taking out his keys he opens the flyscreen and unlocks the heavy wooden front entryway letting himself in. The lights are on, showing off the very clean and vacuum-smooth beige carpet, and crisp white walls without so much as a scratch on them. Directly from the entrance to the right is a small hall that leads to the kitchen where Levi is pleased to see not a single dish left on the sink or the dishrack. To the right opens up to the main living area, the TV is turned off and not a piece of furniture is out of place. Just as he likes it.