Chapter Nine: Confrontation

                                    

                                          
As the evening descended, casting long shadows across the room, Petra and Hanji arrived with a bundle of clothes for me to borrow. Amidst the assortment of garments, there were several oversized shirts, their soft fabric offering a semblance of comfort amidst the turmoil of the day. Though they hung loosely around my frame, I welcomed their embrace, grateful for the modesty they provided in this unfamiliar setting.
With the night drawing near, I began the ritual of preparing for bed, a solitary task made less daunting by the presence of Hanji, who had graciously offered their assistance. Together, we conducted a thorough sweep of the room, banishing any lingering traces of dust that might disturb my rest. Hanji's deft hands worked swiftly, ensuring that the bed was made with precision, while also attending to the shower, ensuring it was in proper working order.
As the final light of day faded from the sky, I found myself alone once more, the silence of the room enveloping me like a comforting shroud. Glancing at the clock, I realized with a pang of regret that I had missed dinner. But hunger seemed a trivial concern in the face of the overwhelming emotions that threatened to consume me.
Sinking onto the edge of the bed, I hugged my knees to my chest, a sense of desolation washing over me like a wave. The events of the day weighed heavily on my mind, each thought a jagged edge that threatened to pierce the fragile veil of composure I had managed to maintain. With a heavy sigh, I allowed myself to succumb to the depths of exhaustion that beckoned, the weariness of body and soul pulling me into the embrace of sleep.
As sleep enveloped me in its grasp, I found myself plunged into a realm of darkness, where haunting memories lurked in the recesses of my mind. In the depths of my subconscious, vivid flashbacks of the titans assaulted my senses, each scene more harrowing than the last. I watched in horror as the monstrous creatures loomed over me, their grotesque forms casting long shadows against the blood-stained earth.
In the nightmare, I was frozen in place, unable to move as the titans descended upon us with a ferocity that defied comprehension. The once verdant fields around me were now painted crimson, the air thick with the metallic tang of blood and the sickening stench of death. I could hear the screams of my comrades echoing in the distance, their cries of agony piercing the silence of the night.
As the nightmare unfolded with relentless brutality, I felt a surge of terror coursing through my veins, paralyzing me with fear. In the dream, I remained a helpless bystander, unable to muster the courage to fight back against the encroaching darkness. The sight of the titans' merciless onslaught etched itself into my consciousness, leaving scars that would linger long after I awoke.
Suddenly, with a jolt, I was torn from the clutches of the nightmare, my heart pounding in my chest as I gasped for air. Sweat soaked my brow as I struggled to make sense of my surroundings, the remnants of the dream still clinging to my consciousness like a dark cloud.
In the dim light of the room, I realized that I had been yelling in my sleep, the echoes of my distress reverberating off the walls. Quickly, I clamped a hand over my mouth, stifling any further outbursts as I glanced around anxiously, fearful of disturbing the peace of the night. As the adrenaline slowly ebbed away, I sank back onto the bed, my breaths coming in ragged gasps. The memory of the nightmare lingered like a shadow, casting a pall over the stillness of the room. In the quiet solitude of the night, I found myself grappling with the aftermath of the dream, the raw emotions it had stirred within me refusing to be quelled.
I stole a glance at the clock, its hands ticking away the early hours of the morning - 2:30 am. How the heck did I sleep through the whole evening after everything that went down earlier?
I hadn't realized I had drifted into slumber just after 8pm. Rising from the bed, I became aware of the constriction of my dress, a reminder of the day's tumultuous events. With a sigh, I shed the uncomfortable garment, slipped into a loose white t-shirt, and oversized shorts, their fabric enveloping me in a sense of makeshift comfort. Despite their bagginess, I managed to manoeuvre my injured arm through the openings, securing it in place with practiced ease.