Hello again! The Thief King here. So I recently got a part in a play at my school called . If you haven't heard of it, it's a play based off of the memoirs of Jack Eisner. It's about a group of teenagers in the Warsaw ghetto during the Holocaust, and their struggle to survive. This is the basis for this fanfiction, but with Hetalia characters. You will see several ideas, quotes, or references to the play in this. I DO NOT OWN THE PLAY. NOR DO I OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS.
Now that that's out of the way! A few other things you should know about the fanfic.
Human names will be used, as this is an AU and they are human, not countries.
This is rated M for violence, heavy swearing (mostly by Romano), scenes of abuse, and references to sex.
Pairings in this fanfiction: Germany/Italy (Ludwig/Feliciano), Spain/Romano (Antonio/Lovino), hinted Lithuania/Poland (Toris/Feliks), and Prussia/Austria (Gilbert/Roderich).
The majority of this will be told from Lovino's point of view. There will also be diary entries from Ludwig Weillschmidt. It won't be hard to tell which is which.
When I look back on all that's happened, I'm surprised any of us survived. Towards the end, I was sure all of us would die. That there would be no one left. But somehow… somehow three out of the five of us made it. Don't ask me how. I can't tell you that. Don't ask me why. Why we lived and so many didn't. What made us so special. I can't tell you that either. If I could have, I'd have given my life for the two of us who died. Hell, I'd have given my life for anyone who died in the ghetto, or the camps. They had families. Kids. Lives. What did I have? Antonio. I had Antonio. But he's dead now, along with François. When Antonio died, I thought I'd die too. The pain was too much. It's still too much. I can't bear it. I don't want to.
At least Feli lived. Nonno told me my purpose in life was Feli. Make Feliciano happy. My happiness doesn't matter, only Feli's. And I ensured that, didn't I? I protected him. I always did. I was prepared to take a bullet for him. Hell, I didn't try to stop the idiot when he fell in love with a fucking Nazi. I tried to talk some sense into his thick head, but he wouldn't listen. So I sat back and let it happen. It made him happy. We were half dead, but he was happy. And that's what mattered. He was happy then, and he's happy now. I don't know how. How he can still be happy, after what happened to us. Nonno's dead. François is dead. Antonio's dead. My Antonio…
Maybe Nonno was right. My only purpose is Feli. If there is a God, which I don't believe anymore, then He seems to agree. Feli's happy with the German bastard. What about me, damn it? Don't I get just a little happiness? All I wanted was Antonio. All I ever wanted was Antonio. But he was snatched away from me. It's not fair, damn it. It's not fair.
But I still have a job to do. People need to know our side of the story. Those German films are nothing but staged shit. They don't tell our story. So that job falls to me. The others are too chicken shit to do it. No one wants to remember. I doubt anyone who wasn't there even cares, or wants to know. But for the people who do care, this is something I have to do. And after I tell our story…I'm done.
You read it right. I'm done. It's over. I've got the gun sitting right next to the papers as I write. Once I've got this whole story written, I'm picking up the gun and blowing my brains out. Auf wiedersehen Lovino.
Call me selfish if you wish. You'd be right. But after living for Feli all my life, I'm finally doing something for me. I don't want to live anymore. I just want rest, I just want this to end. Those who call me selfish, they don't know. No one does. Only people who lived through what we did can understand our pain. And there aren't many of us left.
If these words ever reach you, Feli, then I'm sorry. I just can't stay anymore. I love you, fratello, I truly do. But you're happy with Ludwig. You don't need me anymore. You'll be all right without me.
Oh, and Ludwig, you Nazi bastard… I'll save a seat for you in hell.
Ocalałych (title of story): means "survivors" in Polish