I could barely breathe anymore. Sometimes, when the pain became too much to bear, I would lie down on my bed. My breathing ragged and uneven, and just beg for the end. I would dread the days of when I would hear his boots, his voice, or the sound of an iron pipe dragging on the floor. Some days I would give in to the darkness. Go back to the days of when it was West and I or Austria, or even Hungary. Of Italy and I eating pasta, or stealing some of Canada s maple syrup when he wasn t looking. Those were the good, no, the GREAT days. Then I would hear HIM coming and the light would be gone. I would wake and this horrible reality always came flooding back.

What I really hated was the gray and white. The room, a simple cement one with a cot, sink, toilet, and an iron barred window. The only source of color was through the window, the colors of green, blue, and brown. Oh the colors I would memorize. I ached to see some color on the days of when the pain was so great I couldn t even move. One day, after a rather brutal attack, I laid on the floor, I could feel my body already bruising. He withdrew his gloves, and, while putting them on, he smiled a cruel and grotesque smile. A smile meant only for the criminally insane.

Now, Prussia, I wonder why you don t give up already? Many of my assistants gave in after a week or two, but you He chuckled and flexed his fist within its leather confinement.
You re still going after almost a month."

A MONTH, I'VE BEEN IN THIS HELL FOR A WHOLE MONTH! HOW HAVE I NOT GONE INSANE?

Well," he continued, "I m glad you haven t given in yet. I like my toys and it makes me quite sad when they break. And I REALLY like you Prussia. You scream so sweetly and the bruises shine so lovely on that pale skin of yours. Like a pretty little canvas on which only I can paint. I shuddered and brought my knees up to my chest. His words were even colder than the room. He smiled once again and brought his hand up. He grasped my chin and made me look into his violet eyes.

How I hated that grotesque color, it was the color of bruises and bite marks. Of his eyes that screamed pain and death. I attempted to pull my head away. He tsked and slapped me. I slammed into the ground and saw him walk away.

One day Prussia one day YOU will learn. His laughter echoed through the room as I brought my knees to my chest. As that insane laugh grew softer, I felt the first of the tears start. I was ableto crawl to the small bed by the wall, feeling my skin throb and the bruises beginning to form I gave into the sweet relief of sleep.
_=_=_

In my dream I see West as he was all those months ago. His hair not it's usually orderly way, but messy and disordered. I knew in my heart that this was just a simple memory, but I couldn t help but ache to say hello to my brother again. He sat next to a small desk, his head on top of his hands.

"Prussia, what have we done?" I didn t know what I was going to say. I just wish I had. All of a sudden before I could reply a sharp and hard thud echoed on the small door.

"East and West Germany, you are to open up and surrender. We have taken Italy and you are surrounded. If you wish to surrender peacefully you will walk out and surrender, or we will have to take you both by force."

I felt my throat close up. This was it, Mein Gott this was it. I looked at my brother and realized how much this war had aged him and how much he wanted it all to end. He stood and straightened his posture, he slid a hand through his hair and tried to re-manage it into its usual orderly pull back.

"Well brother I guess this is good-bye for now."He smiled one last time and opened the door.

We were tossed from prison to prison. Each night, I wondered if they would kill, torture, or let us go. Finally, after what seemed like weeks, we ended up in England s meeting room.

We stood near the large table where war was originally proclaimed by England and France. And now, we stood there, more humbled, tired, and feeling the weight we now held upon our shoulders. France was gone for he was still recovering from the invasion and D-Day. England looked tired and weathered as if he would collapse unconscious any minute. Japan was gone off fighting a battle that would never be won. America had a scar across his jaw from Pearl Harbor, and Russia stood his tall and proud self. They all sat in front of us, our destinies in their bloodied hands.

Germany and I were dragged into chairs and tied tightly to them opposite of the council.

America stood up and grimaced a little. "West and East Germany are you ready to accept all and any charges presented to you?" Germany grimaced and nodded. America sat down and England stood and immediately collapsed again. America gave him a worried look and put his hand on his shoulder. England shrugged it off and stood up again.

"The charges are for all the heinous crimes you two have committed, from invading the currently unavailable Poland, France, Austria, and many others to killing thousands of innocent civilians. How will you two condone to these crimes? HOW!" Now England slammed his hand down and we saw fury show in his face. "You have bombed my country, destroyed France, killed so many! Do you know the blood on your hands! Do you kno-" he was cut off as America laid a hand on the country's shoulder.

America now stood and faced us. The scar from Pearl Harbor and dark circles the only evidence on the young country. "You have now heard the charges against you, do you have any reason as to why we shouldn t strip you of everything?" Germany and I remained silent. America nodded his head and picked up a piece of paper. "East and West Germany, you are hereby split in half."

doesn't belong to me, hetalia nor the story.

As requested my friend wanted me to post this here. so all reviews go to her. R&R. (and any help with encouraging her to keep writing would be great.)