I wrote this a long time ago, and I figured I may as well post it (:
I suck at first person. Here's my practice.
Enjoy!
They always say it's the wrong place at the wrong time when something unfortunate happens. Was this really the wrong place at the wrong time? I feel my hand twitch involuntarily as the blood runs freely, the final nerves that haven't been destroyed slowly dying. My head hurts a lot, and each time I close my eyes a wave of pain goes through me.
The explosion happened so fast. I don't even remember what I was doing right before then…but then there was so much noise, and everything came crashing down, all falling apart. And then there was an eerie silence.
I don't know if I passed out or not, but everytime I close my eyes, it's hard to discern how much time has passed. My breathing is getting slower and slower, the weight on my chest makes it hurt when it rises, then falls. I hear a choking noise next to me and I slowly open my eyes.
I see Germany next to me, on his hands and knees. He chokes a few more times before he coughs up some blood. He's covered in blood. Blood on his chest, staining his perfect green uniform, blood in his hair, blood dripping down out of his mouth…
He chokes again and brings his one hand up to his chest, as if he's trying to stop the pain. I try to reach out to him, try to say something to him. I don't know what, but I just want to say something to him. But I can't say anything. It hurts to breathe. I watch him collapse. He's hardly breathing.
I know that there are others. But I can't see anyone. I watch as a piece of the charred ceiling breaks off and crashes to the ground.
Is everyone else dead?
I don't know. But I don't know how long…
"A…America…" I open my eyes and see England. He's crawling on his stomach, his one leg blown off, and left arm bent in an awkward position. It must hurt so much, but he's coming toward me. I feel myself smile, in spite of everything.
"Hey…Iggy…" I wheeze out, each word a challenge. It hurts. It hurts so much.
He collapses next to me, and I slowly reach out and run a hand through his hair. The movement makes my breath catch from the pain, but it's worth it.
He stares back at me, "We're going…we're going to die, aren't we?"
I smile softly and slowly reach out to try and take his hand. But I can't, I can't reach him. He sees, and slowly, as if it takes all of his strength, he closes the distance until our hands are intertwined. I can feel blood and pieces of shrapnel on his hand, but I don't care. I look into his eyes all I see is a small hint of a child's curiosity, and even acceptance. But no fear.
"…I'm…I'm n…not scared…" England slowly gasps out, as if reading my thoughts. Words even I would be afraid to say. But oddly, I'm not scared either. I close my eyes and smile, slowly accepting my fate.
"Yeah…neither am I…" I watch as England slowly draws my hand up and places it against his heart.
There's a long silence between each of us, using only our eyes to talk to each other. So bold, yet headstrong…
"I love you…" I softly whisper, and England squeezes my hand slightly. And I'm drifting.
Where? I don't know where I'm going…somewhere…away…but it's like I'm floating…it's not that bad.
I'm not afraid of dying…
Because you'll be there with me.
