Page 95 of Eternal
He’s such a crier, but that’s okay because he’s so cute.
Mama and Papa Alexei let me choose his name. I chose Eren because I thought mom would like it. She always said the name sounded pretty.
She said people with these kinds of names were meant to always be happy and I wanted him to be happy.
One time, she was reading a book in the living room, and I asked her about it. She told me it was one of her favorite stories, and that one of the characters had a name that sounded like the wind.
A name so soft and strong at the same time. She told me it was the name of someone who’d been through a lot but still kept going.
I remember her saying, ‘Eren is a name for someone who can’t be broken.’
I didn’t really understand it all, but it sounded like the perfect name for my little brother, because I wanted him to be strong, and I wanted Mom to smile when she said it.
And she was really happy when I picked this one.
Mama rocked him back and forth so he could stop crying. She didn’t sing to him like she used to for me, though.
She always sang for me, but it’s been so long since she did… I miss it.
I sat on the floor by the window, my knees pulled up to my chest, watching the empty garden. The patch where the irises used to grow was only dirt now, hard and cracked under the sun.
“Mama?” I said, twisting the hem of my blue dress.
She didn’t answer, she kept pacing back and forth with the baby, her lips moving like she was talking to herself. I couldn’t hear what she was saying...
“Mama?” I tried again, louder this time. “Why don’t you want irises anymore? You always said they were your favorite.”
Her steps faltered, and for a moment, I thought she was going to smile. But instead, she turned to me, her eyes wide and shiny, like she was about to cry.
I didn’t want her to cry.
“They’re too bright,” she said, her voice shaky. “They draw too much attention. It’s not safe.”
I frowned. “But they made the garden pretty.”
Her face changed then, twisting into something I didn’t understand. She clutched the baby closer, like she thought someone was going to take him away.
“Mama?” I whispered again.
“Go inside,” she said, her voice sharp now. “Go to your room. I need to think.”
I didn’t want to go, but before I could say anything, Papa Alexei came in. He was tall and strong, with a big voice that always made me feel safe, even when Mama was sad.
And she has been really sad lately.
“Amane,” he said softly, stepping toward her. “You’re scaring her.”
Mama didn’t look at him, she simply held the baby tighter and whispered, “You don’t understand. They’re watching us, Alexei. They’ll come for us.”
“No one’s coming, Amane,” Papa said. “You’re safe. The children are safe.”
I felt his arms scoop me up from the floor, lifting me high. I wrapped my arms around his neck, burying my face in his shirt.
“Volk, why doesn’t Mama like the irises anymore?” I asked, my voice muffled against him.
He held me close, his big hand rubbing my back up and down. “Mama’s sad,solnyshko,” he said slowly, like he was trying to explain something very hard. But I kept looking at him, not understanding anything.
“When people get scared, they stop liking the things they used to love. But it doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you. She’s just... trying to protect you.”
