The flesh of Tara's people: that was the only sacrifice they could offer to keep the sky at bay. Now it loomed calmly overhead, watching Tara's every move as she and her family packed their meager belongings.

"Why did Grandpa have to go?" her sister mumbled as she struggled to squeeze her blankets into the small pack, "Did he do something bad?"

Tara didn't answer at first, for she wasn't even sure of the answer herself. She glanced over at Mikey, noticing that her worn pack was ready to burst at the seams.

"Sis?" Mikey prodded again.

Tara sighed. "Not everyone that the sky takes are bad people, Mikey. I told you that."

"But Mommy and Daddy said so. They said it's the sky's way of purging evil." The little girl stifled a sniffle. She was on the verge of tears. "Was Grandpa a bad man?"

Tara turned towards her parents, who were a short distance away. Her father glanced at her with narrowed eyes, as if to tell her to stop talking this instant. Her mother's eyes remained averted.

None of them wanted to believe it, but generations of conditioning wouldn't dissipate so easily. It also didn't help that many of the victims were seen as the most reprehensible members of their fractured society.

"I don't know," Tara admitted defeatedly. She shut her eyes as a wave of anger came over her. She refused to accept that the man she had respected the most - the only one who practiced every word he preached - deserved to be condemned to such a horrifying fate.

Tara spoke up again. "Actually, no!"

Mikey and her parents looked up at her.

"How dare you even think that of Grandpa? Shame on you, Mikey."

"Tara! How could you say that!" her mother said, surprised at the sudden outburst. The little girl's quivering eyes no longer met hers.

Tara spun to face her mother. "You and Dad are just as guilty for spreading those lies. Do you really still believe them? Were Eren and Annah bad people? Huh?"

Without waiting to hear their reactions, she stormed off. The events of yesterday would not leave her mind, even though she had witnessed the purge two times before. Back then, a few of her cousins were the unlucky ones.

~

We are always running in hopes of finding an end. Of being freed from the sky's torment, Tara thought to herself, But it always ends the same way.

Her first one happened when she was just five years old. She remembered waking up the morning before the two moons were to eclipse. Everyone was unusually solemn, but she didn't understand why. The only answer her father would offer was that cousin Eren would be leaving.

"Where is he going?" she remembered asking.

"Remember those stories we told you about the demon in the sky?" he replied. Tara nodded. Even as young as she was back then, she knew what he meant.

She later saw Eren standing at the center of the camp with his head bowed. On his bare chest, directly over his heart, was a dark insignia.

The ominous mark supposedly appeared in his sleep the night before and read death. But to Tara, it looked to be nothing more than a jumble of scars.

Later that day, when the dance of the moons came to an end, the Devil's Mouth came forth. The sky cracked open, revealing an endless sea of darkness. It was the centerpiece of Tara's nightmares. Yet Eren managed to smile at her one last time before falling towards the sky and into the gaping hole above.

Not once did he cry or scream, even as he ascended into the darkness. He simply accepted, as did her cousin Annah, and as did her beloved grandfather.

Eren, Annah, Grandpa. Wherever fate took you, I hope you no longer have to live in fear.

~

Tara took a deep breath. Her anger had finally subsided. She now stood a fair distance away from the camp, surrounded by sand.

She let herself fall onto her back, welcoming the cool grip of the sand. As she gazed into the desolate sky above, her mind became lost in the endless mazes between the clouds.

Her brief moment of infatuation was interrupted by the rustling of branches nearby.

Tara turned her head to face the source of the disturbance. Only a small patch of shrubs decorated the otherwise barren plains. She rose up to get a better view.

It was then that she caught a glimpse of a blackened skirt swaying a few inches from the ground. Mikey? She shuffled closer only to confirm her suspicions.

Her younger sister was kneeling over a freshly dug hole beneath the faint greenery. The mounds of dirt beside it obscured Tara's view of the contents within.

Had the situation involved anyone else, she would have simply assumed that they were burying personal trinkets. But unlike most of the family, Mikey never saw the value in such things.

"Mikey!"

Mikey jumped in surprise. Tara immediately clasped her hand over her mouth. Even she was taken aback by the loudness of her own voice.

"Leave me alone," Mikey seethed, fists clenched. Despite her efforts, she struggled to maintain her composure. A single tear rolled down her cheek. "You always treat me like a nuisance! Earlier-"

"Mikey," Tara repeated with her voice hushed. She took a few steps forward before grasping Mikey's shoulders. She felt guilt, but Mikey's rather unusual behavior demanded that she cast it aside. "Calm down and talk to me. What're you looking for? I know it isn't some keepsake."

The tears continued streaming down her pale face. "Something grandpa entrusted to me! Me, and me alone!"

Tara glanced down at the half-dug hole and scoffed. "I can see through your lies, Mikey. Who do you take me for?"

"I'm not lying! He was so different! It was like he didn't care anymore." Mikey choked through the tears. "L-like-"

"Like what?"

"Like he knew he was going to die!"

Tara froze. It was then that she remembered.

She had also noticed her grandfather's strange behavior, but she was far too anxious of the oncoming doom to bother questioning it. Perhaps he's just as anxious as everybody else, she thought.

But at the same time, it was his twelfth time experiencing the genocide. Tara had always admired his ability to remain strong, even in anticipation of it. How could she forget?

Without another word, Tara jolted Mikey aside and crouched down.

"Sis, stop!"

"Quiet Mikey!"

Tara began digging, tuning out Mikey's pathetic sniffles. The hole was already surprisingly deep; the tips of her nails could barely scrape the bottom.

What could be so important that grandpa entrusts it to Mikey, of all people? Her mind was racing. It made no sense. The man whose words she'd listen to like gospel had always praised her for doing so.

Yet here she was, dirtying her clothing in search of something that her grandpa supposedly handed down to Mikey. Tara could feel a cold sweat taking hold of her. Had she understood nothing? Perhaps she was so hopeless that her grandpa thought it pointless to reprimand her. Insecurity had always been her biggest weakness.

"Tara?"

"What is it?" Her sister's interjection had interrupted her thought process.

"What is that? Up in the sky?"

In the corner of her eye, Tara saw her shadow grow faint, as did the shadows of the shrubs around them. The mild colored sand darkened while the warmth of the sun waned.

Perplexed, Tara looked up to see what had captivated her sister. Her eyes widened.

A dark object appeared high in the sky, growing larger and larger by the second. Its features were ambiguous but stood out from the rays of sun that it obscured for a few moments.

Never in all her life had she ever seen such a spectacle. Her first thought was that her mind was playing tricks; only in old fairy tales did the sky ever give back. But as it drew closer, it became harder to deny its presence.

Tara narrowed her eyes. With each passing second, its features became more defined. Soon they began to resemble that of a human.

It had everything the two girls had: arms, legs, and a head, each of which were being tossed around by the air that was doing little to halt its fast approaching fate.

A feeling of terror washed over Tara. She could hear Mikey wail as the small girl crumpled by her feet.

"Sis?" she whimpered, "Tell me when the nightmare is over."