The Ending
Rated: T
USxUK
I do NOT own Hetalia. It's obvious… -_-
It's finally the ending. America goes into his storage room and goes down memory lane. One object catches his eye. He remembers the day he is no longer England's baby brother.
I finally put the old, dusty, black suit down and moved along memory lane. I saw and old, wooden chest and opened it.
As I was rummaging through I exclaimed, "Is there anything worth to save?" to myself.
Then something caught my eye. I directed my eyes to the object and picked it up. It was my old rifle. I put my hand on it to feel the rifle.
I finally spoke in recognition, "Here's something good. Its old, but it saved my butt."
I chuckled and saw something on the old rifle. It was a scratch. Memories started to flow into me. I adjusted my golden, rectangular glasses and stared at it.
"That scratch…" I said. I held the rifle closer and remembered a day. A very important day. I said slowly, "That one time. It has to be…" I knew it was that one time, the time I became no more of England's baby brother.
The time was 1783. We were at Yorktown, Virginia. I was gloomy and it was raining. The sky was filled with gray clouds. I stood in the rain with my troops. We were battling against England. He was standing in front of me with pure hatred and glared at me with his emerald eyes. He held a rifle, so did I and my troops.
I finally yelled out boldly, "Hey England, all I want is my freedom." I paused and then continued. "I'm no longer a child, nor your little brother. From now own consider me independent."
I stopped and stared at him. He stopped glaring and looked filled with sorrow. His eyes were filled with tears. The rain dripped upon his face. He finally shook it off and continued to glare at me. I was filled with disbelief because I knew he was lying by looking into his emerald eyes. All of a sudden England runs toward me at full speed and rams the point of his bayonet at my rifle, which was facing to the side. My rifle flew out of my hands, into the air and landed into a puddle. You could hear the splash when it crashed into the puddle. England was heavily breathing and glaring at me. I stared at him with my piercing blue eyes.
He finally spoke out and yelled, "I won't allow it! You idiot! Why can't you follow anything through till the end?" He was still pointing his rifle at me ready to fire at any moment.
Just then one of my men yelled out, "Ready, aim!" All my troops raised their rifles toward England.
England lowers his rifle and slowly says, "There's no way I can shoot you. I can't." He drops to his rifle in the mud and falls on his knees. His emerald eyes were full of sadness and pain. Tears were streaming down his face. He cries out, "Why? Damn it why?" He pauses, with tears still streaming down his face. He sobs out, "It's not fair!" He cries aloud and continues to break down.
I calmly reply, "You know why." The rain was still pouring down. I remember a time when I was a young boy.
It was a clear day and the sun was shining. England was standing before me in a meadow. The flowers were dancing in the wind. It was a magnificent view. England's and hair was swaying in the wind.
England looked at me warmly and said, "Let's go home." He held out his hand. I reached out and grabbed his hand. He smiled at me and his eyes were closed. I giggled out and smiled back. Just then a crack of thunder brought me back.
England kneeled before me in pain. He was still crying and with his hands covering his face. I stared at him and said, "What happened?" I paused and continued on. "I remember when you were great." I said with a frown and tears in my eyes. I stared at him and looked away.
To that day, I am no longer a child. To that day, I am no longer England's baby brother.
This is my first story so please critique. Should I make more?