I closed my eyes and thought, hoping these wouldn't be my last moments in this pathetic life. For all these years I thought I was on top, I thought nothing could bring me down, I was the king of the world. But then war came. Wars upon wars, for a long time I thought there would be no end. I saw many faces, those of the damned and doomed, and of those power hungry demons. I don't know what hurt worse; seeing cowering faces or watching those decide my destiny. And even though I was gone all the time one thing would always bring me home; my brother. The thought of him being hurt because I didn't come home was devistating and I couldn't bare it. I would think of my friends, though they've all left me now, I suppose nothing is worse than this feeling. Death would be better, anything but this lonliness. But that's why I'd return for the only person that would always be there for me. Though I was a burden, I don't think he hated me.
I saw him watching those deciding my future, waiting for my fate, I knew that he cared. I saw the fear in his eyes, I felt it too, many may not have saw it, all they may have seen is his harsh eyes and his ever-presant frown. I could tell that he was shaking, my little brother was hurt because of those god damn bastards! At that time I hoped to see tomorrow just so I could kill the assholes who made him worry.
Then it was time, they had decided. I took a deep breathe and looked at my brother, he was looking back at me. One of them stood, the American, I believe his name is Alfred. My heart was beating faster than it ever had, if I hadn't been so focused on them I might have thought I was having a heart attack, but I didn't care. All I cared about is what was going to happen to me. The words he said rang throughout my ears and at first I didn't believe it but I kept thinking them over and over until it hit me. I had realized I was going to be sepperated from West, the one thing I feared the most. I was to live with the Russian from then on, they would build a wall. I wouldn't see him again.
I couldn't look at my brother, I didn't want to see his face at that moment. I looked at the Russian instead, his eyes were looking back into my own, his face pulled into a heinous smile. I couldn't look at him anymore, and decided to look over to my brother, his emotions were plain on his face. He was scared, not only that he was sad, angy, and confused. I took my time walking to him and sat next to him. I gathered him into a hug and held him tightly to myself. He clung to me and I felt the warmth of tears on my shirt, I wasn't aware that I was crying as well. I took some time to collect myself before I spoke, but when I did I spoke with as much dignity as I could, as much pride as I could muster to keep my brother strong.
"Be brave brother," I said looking into my dear brother's eyes. "don't cry. I'll come back like I always have, this is no different than those other times. Just wait for me and don't lose hope." I watched him dry his face and calm himself before speaking one last time. This time I spoke softer, just loud enough from him to hear me. "I love you brother, I'll think of you often." I kept myself from crying with all the strength I could. "Goodbye West." With that I let go, even if it was the hardest thing to do, even though my arms longed to hold my brother in my arms. I got up and heard him speak not turning for his sake. I didn't want him to be any more hurt than he was, and if I wasn't strong I could hurt him. Those final words kept me going for so many years.
"Lebewohl bruder, ich liebe dich."* Those are the words that kept me strong, that kept me alive. Without them I would have let myself go, I would have given into that malicious Russian.
It's been so many years, maybe even decades. I've stopped counting, I've learned the more I keep track the more it hurts. I haven't lost my mind yet but I can't tell you how much longer I can keep my sanity. There isn't much to hold onto but I think of my brother more often than I should, I think of those that were my friends. I remember all those good times with Eliziveta and Roderich, I'm sure they've forgotten about me. Hell, I don't even know if my own brother remembers me... I'm sure he doesn't. It hurts to think about those things, so I just try not to think at all. But when you're hurt and starving wondering if you'll live to see tomorrow you can't help but think of those terrible things. As much as I hate to think so, I'm sure it's better that I disappear completely.
The world may not remember Gilbert Weillschmidt, but I still remember everything beyond these god damn walls.
It feels good to be writing again! I don't write often, only when inspired. The inspiratino from this piece came to me from looking through my history book and seeing only one mention of Prussia (Though it was in a map and was labled East Germany) and how lonely that must be to be forgotten.
*The words "Lebewohl bruder, ich liebe dich." mean "Farewell brother, I love you."
