This would be the first in a series of self-made challenges me and my cousin are going back and forth with.

A bunch of one-shots that probably won't do much. If people seem to particularly like one though, I might write another story on it.

This challenge had to fulfill the following:

- Exactly 1,000 words, no more, no less

- At least three sentences and 15 words in a foriegn or dead language (In mine, it's Italian)

- Two main characters chosen by the other person (For me: N. Italy and Sealand)

WARNING: Character Death.

He was in pain. Not the usual, scraped his knee kind of pain, but a deep hurt he felt all over his body. He could see the injuries he bore. Scrapes, bruises, cuts, burns, and all sorts of markings littered his young skin. Blood covered his sailor's outfit. The young boy looked over across the ocean; he could almost see his big brother's country from where he lay. The thought made him feel lonely, but he was all alone on his almost ruined nation. England wouldn't notice him until it was too late. His phone provided him with no help either; his family wouldn't answer while they were working and Latvia would be too busy helping Russia to answer. There was only one person who he knew would always answer his phone, and they weren't the best of friends. The other nation didn't even acknowledge him as his own country.

He had no other choice though. No one else would be able to talk to him before he was…
He didn't want to think about that. His battered arm reached for his phone. As he pulled it out he took a small moment to admire it. It had been a gift from his father, and against all odds the small device was still working. He scrolled through his contacts list, looking for the one person he knew would answer him. He reached the name, pushed the button, and waited for the other country to answer.

"Ciao! Chi è questo? Zitto Romano, io sto usando al telefono!" Answered a voice.

"I-Italy..." He forced out.

"Sì? Chi è questo? Perché stai chiamando?" The voice replied.

"T-this is Sealand. "

"Who?"

He nearly cried at that responce. No one would ever recognize him as an official country. Not even now.
"S-Sealand. E-England's brother. S-Sweden and F-Finland's child."

A slight pause at the other end of the line.
"Oh Sealand! I'm sorry about that. I'm really tired right now so that's why I cou-"

"I-Italy, l-listen to me. I need you to d-do me a f-favor."

The Italian at the other end finally picked up the seriousness in the younger nation's voice.
"W-what's wrong Sealand? Are you hurt?"

"That's besides the point. I-I need to know. Will you d-d me a f-favor?"

The Italian wasn't sure what to make of this, but he agreed to it anyways. The Sealand kid sounded like a was in big trouble.
"Sure Sealand. Anything. What do you need?"

He sighed in relief, knowing that the other country would help him now.
"C-could you tell E-England that I n-never really h-hated him?"

"S-sure Sealand?" The Italian replied, unsure of what to make of that comment.

"And will you tell L-Latvia... W-will you tell Latvia that he w-will always be my b-b-best friend? A-and to never forget me?"

The older nation was really worried now. It sounded as if this Sealand kid was dyi-

"W-will you? Please?"

"I'll tell him."

"Good. And my parents... P-please tell my p-parents that I l-love them. A-and that I'm s-sorry I didn't get to say it m-myself."

"I-I'll tell them."
The Italian was concerned. Sealand sounded like he was hurt, and he was asking all these really odd favors of him.
"Sealand?"

"Y-yes I-Italy?"

"Are you injured Sealand? Are you hurt?"

He gave a feeble laugh. It was really quite funny to him. He had been so worried about the other nation not caring about him, the other nation not caring about what he wanted to say to all the people he'd never see again. He had only the barest glimmer of hope that he would listen to him. It was really funny to him.
"I-It's nothing for you to worry about I-Italy. I-I'll be fine s-soon."

"Are you sure? You sound li-"

He smiled. He knew he shouldn't be at a time like this, but he just couldn't help it.
"I-I'm fine Italy. J-just remember t-to t-tell everyone w-what I said."

"I won't forget. I promise Sealand!"

"I-Italy?"

"Y-yes Sealand?"

"W-when I'm gone, do y-you think they will r-remember me as m-my own c-country? No one seems t-to n-notice me n-now, but m-maybe..."

The Italian was figting back tears as he listened to the little nation over the phone. The child was probably dying alone, but somehow he seemed to be braver about facing his death than Italy knew he'd be.
"They will remember you Sealand. They'll remember your size as if you were Russia, your strength as if you were Germany, your culture as if you were Japan. They'll remember you as your own country or... Or I'll make them remember you! "

Sealand smiled; knowing the words were untrue but unwilling to cast them off as fictions anyways.
"T-Thank you Italy. "

"Y-you're welcome, Sealand."

"C-Could I ask you one more favor I-Italy?"

"S-sure Sealand. Anything!"
Italy was fighting back his tears with all of his strength. He would not cry while the child was talking with him.

"C-could you sing me a s-song? L-like big b-brother England used to do w-when I was little."

The Italain could hear the strenghth fading from the young boy's voice. He wanted to cry, but instead he sang. It was a short song, but it was one of the most beautiful one's he knew.
"Piccola farfalla dammi la mano.
Dammi la tua mano Lucciola.
Confortare me come si passa
Attraverso le porte di bianco."
He heard a tiny whisper when he finished his song.

"T-thank you... Italy."

After that, there was silence. A deep poisonous silence that cut into him like daggers. He cried, unable to hold his tears in any longer.

Romano rushed to his brother. Something bad had happened, something from the call had made his brother cry. He placed his arm around his brother.

"What happened Feliciano?"

His brother stopped crying. He looked at Romano with watery brown eyes. He opened his mouth and calmly said:

"The angels have taken a great country from us. The strong, brave Sealand now rests."

My cousin and I are doing the same basic challenges, just with different shows. The way we are doing it is that whoever has the most reviews/favorites/follows on all their challenges collectively gets to name the next one.

In the interest of fairness, her pen name is invisible0one and her set of challenges follows the same title, The Boredom Challenges of Asa and Fish, I suggest you read them both and leave a review for your favorite.

And yes, I am aware that this one is kind of depressing. It's not my usual style, but the English teacher said I needed to try and branch out. So I did fail.

Translations:
Ciao! Chi è questo? Zitto Romano, io sto usando al telefono:Hello! Who is this? Shush Romano, I am using the phone!

Sì? Chi è questo? Perché stai chiamando: Yes? Who is this? Why are you calling?

Piccola farfalla dammi la mano. Dammi la tua mano Lucciola. Confortare me come si passa Attraverso le porte di bianco.:
Small butterfly give me your hand. Give me your hand Firefly. Comfort me as we pass, through the doors of white.