Warnings: Serious ideas of death, injury, animal cruelty and child neglecting.
It is dark in this room. Did I turn the light off? No. I didn't do that.
I didn't do it.
This chair that I'm sat in is so uncomfortable. Didn't I used to be warm and soft? Maybe it was always like this, but he made it comfy. He always made stuff nicer, brighter happier.
Maybe it was him that turned off the lights.
There are footsteps, out in the hall. The are quiet, and muffled on the carpet, but they're the loudest thing I've heard all day. Who can it be? Denmark and Norway visit on Mondays, to 'check on me'... but it was Monday yesterday. And Norway said that Iceland had gone to China for a few weeks. Probably to visit Hong Kong.
None of the other nations talk to me anymore. They were at the funeral, but after that, they left.
It can't be any of them. There's only one person it can be. I lift my head from my hands, where I have been hiding for a long time. He is at the door.
"Tino." I mutter, as the door creaks open. He will scold me for not fixing the table, like I said I would. He enters the-
Oh.
After the accident, Hanatamago had to have her back legs removed. They replaced then with wheels, that she rolls around on. Ironic, really; replace her legs with exactly what took them from her.
I lower my head. Not again. What's happened to me? Once again I forgot to feed her, so she's come looking for food. No. I don't want to look at her. She knows that it's all my fault. She was there.
The small dog crawls into my lap, just like she used to, nuzzling into my chest. I place my cold hands on her head, pushing her warm form away from me.
"No... d'wn, g'rl." my voice is scratchy. I haven't used it for ages. Hanatamago looks up at me with big endless eyes. Those eyes saw it happen. They saw it even better than me. I place a finger over each eye, blocking her vision. Stop looking at me like that. Stop.
My thumbs and middle fingers close around her neck. I can feel her, staring at me, even under my fingers.
Stop looking at me.
"St'p." I mumble, the words tumbling clumsily from my mouth like a boat falling down a rocky waterfall; broken.
Her tail wags slightly. She thinks I'm playing. No. There's no reason to have fun anymore.
"St'p." I repeat, louder this time. My hold on her neck tightens, and she barks slightly.
"Stop!" my voice echoes off the empty walls, filling the spaces where there used to be pictures. They now lie smashed in their frames in the once fluffy carpet, covered with a layer of dust that reminds me of snow.
Hanatamago wriggles and squeaks, gazing up at me blankly. I can't look at her. She reminds me of everything I've done wrong.
"STOP." I yell. My whole body tenses up, I squeeze my eyes shut, shaking my head from left to right. My glasses clatter to the floor, my hands shake so violently that Hanatamago starts to shake as well. I squeeze quietly on her neck to stop the movement.
Crack.
No, wait.
This isn't where it started.
I got it wrong. This isn't the beginning.
This is the end.
(three months earlier)
We used to be Vikings.
At funerals, we used to drink, and fight, and drink... and fight. We did it to celebrate the life the whoever died.
No one feels like drinking, or fighting, or celebrating.
Not even Denmark can bring himself to smile. He's gazing blankly at the inside of his untouched beer bottle. Are those tears in his eyes?
Norway's hands are shaking, and he's looking at them intently. Iceland has his hands over his mouth, as if he's holding back something.
I wonder what I look like.
Probably scary... as usual. He was terrified of me at first. I tried my best not to scare him, or hurt him. Eventually, he grew to love me. And it was the best feeling in the world.
Perhaps that's why it feels so bad now.
Denmark reaches quietly into his pocket, and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. He opens them, taking one out, lighting it, and taking a deep breath of smoke.
Norway leans forward and grabs a cigar out of the pack. Taking the lighter off Denmark, he lifts the roll up to his lips and begins to smoke.
"I- I didn't know you smoked." mutters Iceland, staring at his older brother.
"I don't." is Norway's monotone reply.
I guess I'm not the only one effected.
"Where's Peter?" asks Denmark, desperately trying to fill the gap left by... him.
"He went to bed..." says Iceland, barely looking up.
The silence
Denmark crushes his cigarette under his foot, and stands up.
"I've got to go..." he coughs slightly. "I... I just need some time..." he leaves quietly, and I hear him on his phone out in the corridor.
"... Abel?... Yeah... yeah, ok... I'll be there in a minute..." then he is gone.
I feel a burning jealousy in my chest. He's still got his special person.
Iceland looks up from his hands.
"I should probably go to..." he barely whispers.
"Ice, wait..." Norway stands with Iceland, smothering him in a hug. Any other time, Iceland would have pushed him away.
They still have each other.
Iceland sniffs, stands up straight and leaves the room. Norway returns to his seat and continues to smoke.
He doesn't say anything, so I just sit and watch the tears pour down his cheeks.
"Beklager..." he says quietly, leaving the room with his cigarette still in hand.
Now I am alone again.
Again.
Again and forever.
A/N: Well, this is new. And depressing. I know the story is all over the place, but it's designed to be like that. It will make sense in the end (I hope). Also, expect chapters to be pretty short,