WARNING: Character death
'I am stuck in time.
My mind has aged, yes, but my body is still that of a young boy. I feel so old, yet the energy of youth has never left me.
The facade of a foolish young boy with no qualms and an air of arrogance was made to protect myself; in the end, I won't need it, anyway. It was not like anyone had noticed.
Thrown away by my brother, I could only dream of one day becoming a strong nation. I looked up to him, and that was one thing I would never admit. But now I feel so weary...
World War II forced me to mature, and body has yet to catch up. I long for the time when I have no worry.
No fear.
Only peace.
I long for the time when I disappear – but I feel that it is near, so I may not have long to wait. And as it gets closer, I can feel my bones shaking and an apparent imminent threat on the horizon. To me, though, this death will be a blessing.
If I make it to heaven, at least I won't be looked down upon or called childish by my peers. Young, I may seem, but young, I am not.
But perhaps if micro-nations (was I even considered one?) could not go to heaven, then I might go where the legendary Ancient Rome rests.
Now, as I dwell on my thoughts, I can feel my eyes growing tired, and fingers growing numb. I do not know what to make of it, but I hope this shall end well. Never have I been human, but maybe... this is the closest I can get.
Farewell, England; farewell, Arthur; farewell, my broth '
The text had ended there, and England could only look on in silence. Where there should have been a young boy, lay an old, old man. His features were peaceful; he had passed away quietly.
"Farewell, Peter."
'Goodbye...'
-f i n-
Constructive criticism is favored over flames and compliments (but those are nice, too).
Thank you for taking the time to read this.
Inspired by someone's headcanon; Peter Kirkland has witnessed World War II. He's not a child, anymore.
-K Z A E N-
