Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or Canada or whatever turns out already existing.
Let me know about faults or parts hard to understand.
HUMANS. I HAVE RETURNED.
In case you don't know me, I wrote a story exactly last year about an hetalian truth or dare in another world. I suddenly disappeared when final exams showed up and now… I came back. One year later.
And yeah I still like Hetalia. Well I kind of calmed down in summer 2014 but a week ago, through my search for a Creepypasta fanfiction…
[Pause]
SHOUT OUT TO ALL CREEPYPASTA AND HETALIA LOVERS! IF WE LOVE BOTH IT ONLY SHOWS HOW [CENSORED] UP WE ARE! YEEAAHH!
[End of Pause]
… for a creepypasta fanfiction I found this one about thirty nations from Hetalia getting stuck in the conference room on October 30. So they end up telling creepy pasta stories to each other. I forgot by who it was and how to find it so…
Disclaimer no 2: I do not own the cool story above.
Anyway, that story brought back EVERYTHING. ALL OF MY FEELINGS FOR HETALIA. WITH A [CENSORED] VENGEANCE.
I felt like when I replayed Minecraft after a while, jumping from version 1.6.4 to 1.7.2.
I felt like crying before the beauty of it all.
Sooo… yeah.
Summary of the following story: None. I know myself. I know that when it doesn't come with suggestions, my own stories coming right out of my mind never go along with what I want to write. Why? 'Cause "imagination is a window to another world", that's why. I'm discovering the story as I write with whoever also reads it.
Soooooo… yeah.
I really need to stop talking. You probably don't even understand my rambling.
-I'm down on the floor… waiting…
My voice filled my bedroom as my mind drifted away in a fantasy land.
-I'm down on the floor… waiting…
Lie. I was lying upside down across my bed, my feet on my pillows and my head over the edge. My long blond hair had fallen to the floor in a chaotic riverfall.
-…waiting for the locks to break…
The lights went out. I closed my misty-blue eyes.
-…waiting for my wings to spread…
My entire room flashed twice as I sang, my verse finished by a loud thunder. My house shook along with the ground. We moved on the tip of a mountain. That same mountain was on top of another huge one too big to see from the ground, since it just looked like flat ground from human perspective, if you get what I mean.
It wasn't high enough for eternal snow, rocky grounds and lacks of oxygen, but the tip of my three levels plus attic house reached around two meters below that line. The attic wasn't really an attic, more of a room. MY room. The entire roof was mine.
-…waiting for the flowers to bloom…
I had nice octagonal windows on both walls (the only flat ones on each side of the roof) covered by white cotton curtains with yellow flowers. Even thought they were closed, my windows were a bit old so they let in a small air current moving my curtains in a slightly eerie way.
I had sort of electric Chinese lanterns along the inside tip of the roof. They were kind of cool, because they contained custom multicolor LED lights. From a remote thrown somewhere in my room, I could control their color, shade, set and animations.
I placed a disco ball at the center made of really small pieces of mirror, almost glass dust (so it looked more of a shiny grey ball than a disco ball).
The only other "physical" stuff I had were a large amount of books in piles here and there (lack of library), an old storage chest, a few wooden boxes also scattered here and there, a night table with an oil lamp on it (in case there's no electricity like now), a Canadian flag I nailed over my bed, a rack with my "good" clothes hanging from it and a huge amount of pillows of all shapes and sizes forming a lazy area on one side of the roof. The latter was pretty high –Canadian style-, around twelve feet high (had to use the ladder to place my lanterns).
Oh yeah I forgot the ladder on the floor behind my bed. And the trapdoor in front of it, a little further than where my hair was.
Sorry ladder and trapdoor.
Although the ceiling was high, the house could've been considered thin, so there was a slanted wall, the ladder, my bed, my hair, the trapdoor, one meter, a pile of books than the other slanted wall. In the other direction, there was a flat wall, two meters of lazy area, piles of books and wooden boxes, one meter and a half, my night table, my bed, my chest, a pile of books and wooden chests, my rack, one meter and a half again, piles of books and wooden boxes than the other flat wall.
The thunder shook my house again, but twice as hard as the first one, making one of my book towers break down.
Don't ask about the architect.
-waiting for the light to shine bright…
A flash, a loud snap and really REALLY loud thunder shacking my house like no tomorrow.
-…waiting for you…
Rain fell on the roof like a flat truck meeting a brick wall.
If you get what I mean.
I held my flying mint bunny plush closer to my chest. I shivered, a light white satin dress barely covering me.
I rolled over and placed my head on my pillows. Sleep soon took over me under the heavy rain.
Have you ever felt alone within a crowd?
I was surrounded by many people, many of which I couldn't name or even recall ever meeting before. Mom came out to me speaking in French "I'm so happy we could finally succeed a family get-together!"
Family?
She noticed my frown. "Why do you look so confused? Geniver, don't you remember aunt Josée, uncle Jeff, aunt Michelle, cousin Jeane, aunt…" she went on as she motioned to almost every person in my range of view.
Remember?
While Mom kept naming very member of my "family", I noticed that everyone seemed greyish. I saw in my aunts, uncles, cousins… even in my brothers and sisters… the lack of life. The lack of personality. The lack of brightness.
The lack of souls.
The fear. The control over them.
Grey puppets.
My Mom was a little more colorful, although I began to panic when her colors suddenly seemed to dim and fade away while she complained about something I couldn't understand. She became sad and started to fade away in the crowd. I reached out, feeling tears threatening to fall.
Mama! Mama please don't go! Please don't leave me! Please don't disappear… mama…
-Gen!
I looked to my right, startled.
There, standing out of the monochrome crowd, were my cousin Alex and of course Arthur, bright and colorful.
Alex waved to me with his usual grin. Arthur kept his usual stern expression, holding a cup of tea coming from God knows where again.
Joy and excitement filled me. I ran to them and as soon as my hand grabbed Alex's, we escaped the family reunion to a hole in the wall leading to another adventure with my two companions.
My best friend and my consciousness.
No. My adviser. My inner voice.
Alex couldn't see Arthur.
He existed, but only as a part of my mind borrowing a fictional character's physical appearance. A character from a Japanese TV show with short –too short- episodes I love. He appeared to me like a good father or a big brother or at least a guardian. And of course as a guide.
England from Hetalia.
With him I didn't feel so alone.
Alex was telling me how cool whatever was on the other end of the tunnel when he pulled me inside. I happily followed him, myself followed by Arthur -who advised me to lower my head before getting in- till a hunch made me stop in my tracks.
I turned around.
Suddenly I found myself in a bright golden ballroom surrounded by my grey soulless family members. I could sense Arthur's presence on my left and Alex's on my right, although they weren't the ones making me feel the heavy chains all over me, holding me to the ground.
On a balcony looming over the ballroom, staring right at me with grim judging eyes…
…was my father…
…covered in his dark miasma…
Worst than grey was living poison. Especially when unintentional.
If you don't understand something, tell me –even though some parts aren't supposed to be understood- and if I suck in grammar, tell me…
No flames please…
Aaand… that's it. For now.
