I've been alive so long I can't even remember my age. Pathetic isn't it. Though the saddest part is that through the centuries, I have gotten so used to seeing people live there whole lives in front of me when I don't even age a day. I think about this almost every night, as I lay on my blood red couch sipping wine and staring out at the French countryside. Years ago I used to find the view beautiful, breathtaking, but now it just makes me feel so empty, so sad, so alone. Contrary to what most people believe sex is not fun any more for me. In fact in the last couple years I stopped having sex all together. Truthfully, as I stared in to there eyes I would remind myself that I could not develop feelings for any one. Their life would pass far to quickly as I am forced to stay in this merciless world, forced to keep living out my meaningless existence. It stopped filling the void and just made me feel even more hollow than I did before. Pourquoi moi? Why did it have to be me? Even though I am less than found of my life I will still admit that I am afraid of death. I have seen so many of my fellow men parish on the battlefield, the fear and pain in their eyes. It scares me. I, the great France fears death.
I don't know what to, the fear of death is almost as unbearable as going on living this pitiful life. Why wasn't someone else chosen to live the life of a country, why do I have to be France. Why was I chosen! God do you hate me so much to condemn me to a life of pure suffering and agony! Like every night, the tears begin to slip down my face. Why god? Why me?
Sorry this was so short. Hope you liked it, if you would like give me fanfic ideas and I might end up doing it. Thank you for reading.