Russia came home from the store with a bottle of vodka. He made sure the door closes quietly. Taking off his shoes, he listened. Apparently, no one was home. This was good. But, his little sister was known to sneak attack, so he still tried to be quiet. He set the vodka bottle down gently on the counter. If he got to his room, he would be safe. Down the hall, turn the corner, almost there. The last obstacle was passing her room. He tiptoed ever so softly. Suddenly, he heard piano music. Then it was singing. An almost unrecognizable voice came from the room he feared.

"Dancing bears, painted wings, things I almost remember, and a song someone sings, once upon a December." The end of a song.

Losing his train of thought, he stopped and listened. It couldn't be his sister. The voice was soothing and gentle. He wanted to…to…to open the door, to be embraced by the voice. It was beautiful. The only reason he didn't was his sister's signature accent. It stopped. No. No. Keep going, please. Don't stop. A new song.

"She walks to school with the lunch she packed. Nobody knows what she's holding back. Wearing the same dress she wore yesterday, she hides the bruises with linen and lace. Oh…"

The voice had changed. No longer soothing, it was sad and broken, but beautiful still. Russia thought of sadness, sadness that he had caused the world. Everyone was afraid of him. This must've been how the lyrics were written. Out of fear. Wait, the singing was back.

"The teacher wonders but she doesn't ask. It's hard to see the pain behind the mask. Bearing the burden of a secret storm, sometimes she wishes she was never born." The voice gained strength during the chorus. "Through the wind and the rain, she stands hard as a stone in a world that she cant rise above. But her dream give her wings and she flies to a place where she's loved. Concrete angel!" The music stopped. Footsteps coming towards the door. Run, said his mind. But the words still had him. He was frozen. The door opened. "Brother! What a nice surprise, you waiting outside my door!" She sounded cheerful. Belarus never sounded cheerful! "Marry me! Marry me! Marry me!" He ran.

Locking his door., he sat down to think. The voice of the song and the voice after were the same but different. His sister was singing, but not. She had a whole other side. A side that could soothe, could be hurt. A side that was beautiful. He had to let her know.

Russia walked into the kitchen, where Belarus already was. "Marry me! Ma-"

Russia stopped her. "I want to talk to you, but you need to be quiet."

"Of course, brother. What is it?" She smiled with excitement.

"I heard you singing. You're- It was beautiful."

"You-you think so? You really like it?" She clearly wanted her brother's praise more than anything.

"Da. Do you think you could, um, do it again sometime?"

"Yes! Yes, of course!" She paused. "W-w-what did you hear?"

"The end of a holiday song, and another." Russia remembered the lyrics. Through the wind and the rain, she stand hard as a stone in a world that she can't rise above.

"Another? Which one?" She was obviously nervous. But why? She never was nervous, always strong.

"I don't remember." He lied. The song must be personal to her.

"You're lying." She spoke in a whisper. "Which one was it? Tell me brother."

"I don't know the words." He stared into her face. It was a face that possibly held more secrets than he thought. It's hard to see the pain behind the mask.

She stood up, knocking her chair back. "You tell me right now! You know what it was!" She sounded scared and afraid, a different person, the one she heard singing.

"I'm sorry, but I really don't know. If you sing it again, I'll recognize it. Then we will know, da?"

"No!" She drove her knife into the table. "You know what you heard! Tell me!"

"I can't." Russia was afraid that if he spoke the words, they would lose the intense meaning they possessed.

"Fine! I'll never sing for you!" She ran out, tears pouring from her eyes. What about the song was so bad? Was it about her?

He walked back down the hall, a large bottle of vodka in each hand. Tonight, he would drink until he passed out. Until he escaped the world. He passed the door that held the secrets. Same song, different words.

"Somebody cries in the middle of the night. The neighbors hear but they turn out the light. A fragile soul caught in the hands of fate. When morning comes it will be too late. Through the wind and the rain, she stands hard as a stone in a world that she can't rise above. But her dreams give her wings and she flies to a place where she's loved. Concrete angel!" The music died again. No. He thought. He wanted to feel the music more. To feel the sadness, helplessness.

Footsteps, again. He started walking, so when the door swung open, he was a reasonable distance away. "I knew it! You bastard! Go away! Don't tell!" She commanded. Scared, hurt, terrified, different. This was not the Belarus he knew. A knife whizzed by his head. She'd never tried to hurt him before.

"Wait, sister, please." His voice spoke without his control. "Please finish the song, I will do anything." He begged.

"Anything? Even…marry me?" She looked at him with the eyes of a young child.

"I…I can't." He sighed.

"Then," She raised her voice. "Don't ever spy on me again! I-I-I'm over you!"

He wasn't hearing this. She was done obsessively trying to marry him? Impossible. "You are?"

Her shoulders slumped and she lost all hostility in her voice and expression. "I can't just keep getting turned down. I always think that something else is the key to your love, but there's no way in. Do you know what it's like to love someone and not be loved back? It's like having your heart ripped out, like there's no hope. I love you, brother. I always will, but I can't keep chasing you. I just can't…." More tears fell. She fell onto her knees, finally grasping that she was defeated. Russia couldn't help but feel bad for her. If he was sad about having no friends, it must be worse for her.

He walked to her and kneeled down. "Please don't cry. I didn't know how alone you felt. I'm sorry. That song…it was how you felt?" She nodded, sobbing. "I think it's beautiful. Can I please hear it? All of it? It will be our secret, I promise."

She smiled. Not her usual evil smile, but a smile of pure joy. "Yes, I will sing it for you."

She led him into her room. The walls were light blue, the furniture a darker blue. There was a piano, which was black. It contrasted somehow. She sat down and set her fingers. "Wait, brother, I need to tell you something."

"What is it?" Russia couldn't help sounding a bit impatient, because the song was so close.

"I'm dyslexic. I might play the notes wrong."

"Dyslexic? I never knew."

"I wanted to be perfect to you, so you might…maybe…."

"Oh, it's alright. Pretend I'm not even here."

"Here goes." Russia sat on the bed.

"She walks to school with the lunch she packed. Nobody knows what she's holding back. Wearing the same dress she wore yesterday, she hides the bruises with linen and lace. Oh. The teacher wonders but she doesn't ask. It's hard to see the pain behind the mask. Bearing the burden of a secret storm. Sometimes she wishes she was never born. Through the wind and the rain, she stands hard as a stone in a world that she can't rise above. But her dreams give her wings and she flies to a place where she's loved. Concrete angel! Somebody cries in the middle of the night. The neighbors hear but they turn out the light. A fragile soul caught in the hands of fate, when morning comes it will be too late. Through the wind and the rain, she stands hard as a stone in a world that she can't rise above. But her dreams give her wings and she flies to a place where she's loved. Concrete angel!"

Russia mouthed the words along with his sister. Expecting the song to end, he was surprised that there was more. The girl was dead, so nothing more could happen, right? Wrong.

"A statue stands in a shaded place, an angel girl with an upturned face. Her name is written on a polished rock. A broken heart that the world forgot. Through the wind and the rain, she stands hard as a stone, in a world that she can't rise above. But her dreams give her wings and she flies to a place where she's loved. Concrete angel!"

The music stopped. She had played the piece flawlessly. Russia was speechless. Luckily, he didn't have to speak. Belarus threw her arms around him, crying. "This is how I feel when you say you don't love me. I want to die." She sat up. "You don't love me because I want you to love me." She opened the door and stepped aside. "If you leave now, I will never ask you to marry me again." She looked at him from across the room. "It's your choice."

"I will never leave you. I promise."

"Really? You mean it brother? You love me?"

"Da. Now come back over here." She ran over and snuggled in his lap. For once, he truly loved his sister. "I just have a question. Who taught you to play piano?" He felt his sister tense up at the question.