" Matvey, Matvey" Called a strange, small voice in the distance," Wanna come play?". I knew. I remembered the voice. It belonged to my old friend. But I didn't remember his name. I didn't remember his face. All I remembered where the cold dark nights where me and him would wish our way out of the cold. " Matvey are you daydreaming again?" The voice asked with a chuckle. I would look up to him yet his face was blurred. His hand outstretched to mine as I had a smile plastered on my face. Why couldn't I remember?. I would always take his hand. And he would take me everywhere. We were inseparable. No one could take us apart. Not anyone. But then that day came. The one we thought that would never come. I was walking down the halls of the orphanage. The old nuns speaking in the tongue I could hardly remember. I couldn't tell you what it was if you asked. One of them spotted me as I had walked passed the door. She walked out and addressed me." Matty, we have some great news, You have been adopted. And your new family is coming to get you in the morning" She smiled. Her deep set ice blue eyes boring into my light purple ones.
I think that was the first time in my life where I felt heartbreak. Small tears streamed down my face. How could they only take me?. Why not the friend I was always with?. It was horrifying to think that we would no longer be like brothers. I remember running to my room and locking the door. My friend was already in there waiting for my return. " Matvey, vhy are you so sad?" He asked, a small frown upon his blurred face. " _ I'm getting adopted" I cried. The name I had said seemed to be blanked from my memory. It saddened me how I couldn't remember. The next few parts where a blur until that night. Me and my friend where huddled up for warmth. The windows creaked as the cold wind rushed past them. " Matvey?" He had asked me. " Yes?" I had returned our words a bit stuttered due to the cold. " Lets mark each other, so that vay, in the future ve can meet again" He smiled as he looked at me. I don't know what made us do it. But he pulled out a small knife. He carved a small И in my palm. Which in my later years was the Russian letter for I. Then I in turn had taken the knife and carved a small M into his neck/ collar bone area. He ripped up a small part off the sheet and covered our wounds. " Matvey... promise me you'll come find me" He cried. " I promise". The last thing I remember him being dragged away by a very powerful Russian militant,Screaming Matvey, Matvey.
I had shot outta bed. I was caked in sweat. Tears had welled in my eyes as I looked at the small scar in my hand. I always wondered what had happened to him. For years and years I was raised in a french country with my new "Father". Francis Bonefoy or otherwise known as France. I had spent many years with him. Before I was taken in by Arthur Kirkland or otherwise known as England. But soon enough he had sent me to the new country. My new home. I made it in the image of both my families. Both of french and English culture. Sure it didn't work out all the time but it was the best I could hope for. I got out of bed and shook off the strange dream. I had showered and gotten ready in due time. Today was a world conference meeting. And since now I was an official country I was allowed to attend. I had to make haste with the usual pancakes I had for breakfast. I ate those up quickly and headed out. Making it to the conference room in under an hour.
I took a seat at my designated spot. I looked at the names beside and across from me. Only one stood out to me Russia. I never truly met him. I only knew him by his country name. He always seemed so happy and cheerful. Bu I could tell he was always like me. Hiding our true feelings beneath our own fixed exterior. I let out a small sigh as the countries sat in their seats. The meeting progressed as usual. America claiming to be a hero. France and England fighting over something completely ridiculous. And so on and so forth. I looked before me again. I looked at what who Russia was. Tall, Dark, forcibly cheerful. Deep set purple eyes. Not like mine. Mine where light and his where more a deep violet. His hair blond, short and messy. And he usually wore the same thing. A long beige trench coat. And a old scarf. I wondered who he was. His head turned in my direction and he cracked a small smile. " Is there something on my face?" He asked me. I was caught of guard by the sudden question that my hand moved from under my chin and my head smacked to the table. Russia laughed a little at me. I was humiliated.
I just stayed in this position till it was time for a break. I hadn't realized people had left when I looked up. I looked around the room. The only thing in it was the usual light pink scarf that Russia had never taken off. It was just sitting there half on the chair and the rest on the floor. Like it had snagged on something as he left. A sudden urge arose within me. If it was here then he must not have realized he left it. And if he couldn't find it, he must be looking for it. I got up and picked the scarf from the floor. I had folded it neatly. It was very warm and soft to the touch. I could see why he liked it. I had taken it with me when I left the room. I was gonna go look for Russia and return his scarf. I opened and the door and went to walk out. Only to be halted by crashing into the person on the other side. " Canada, Vhat are you doing with my scarf, da?" He asked looking at me. I felt like I committed a felony with the look he was giving me. " I-i went t-to go give i-it to you, I-i figured you left i-it by accident" I stuttered. He tilted his head, " Now vhy vould you do a nice thing like that?" He asked me curiously as his head tilted. " Because I am a nice person and I knew it was special to you" I answered. " No vone is ever really considerate of me, it makes me happy that you thought of me" He smiled.
This one was different. Not one of his dark, cruel intentions ones. But a genuine one. He leaned forward and outstretched is hand to me. A flash of the child from my memories went through my head as I went to take his hand. " No vhere did you get a scar like that?" He asked looking at the mark on my palm. " U-uh..." Was the only thing I could manage to say. " M-matvey?" He questioned, a shocked and questioning tone taking over his usual voice. " H-how do you know... that name?" I asked. He pulled me up violently and wrapped me in his arms. " I knew ve vould meet again". I was shocked as hell. Was this normal Russian behaviour?. Did he go crazy?. Well more crazy?. " Don't you remember?, it's me Ivan" He smiled. He drew back the collar of his shirt. An M was carved into his shoulder/neck area. Suddenly the images came flooding back. The childish games. The cold nights. The promises that we would never be apart. It all came rushing back to me. The room began to spin and then everything went black.
- to be continued-