Title: Silver Soul (1/?)
Author: krissykunn
Rating: T/PG15
Pairing: USUK
Warnings: mild language
Spoilers:
Disclaimer: I, Alfie, do not own Axis Powers Hetalia, or "The Host".
Summary: Inspired by Stephanie Meyes' "The Host". A soul takes over Alfie F. Jones' body and possesses it, but it appears to be that this soul does not have as much power over this body like they had thought. USUK mild language
A/N: This chapter is basically to explain part of my Silver!AU. I would read it, for it gives out some information, but not all. There are still things to explain, and they will be explained later on in the story.
I used to know this girl. She was very kind. I loved talking with her, and I loved being around her. She would smile when I messed up, or if I screwed up on a simple thing, and I loved to see her smile. So sometimes I would mess up just to see her smile, and laugh that amazing laugh of hers. I couldn't stop staring into her eyes, and watching her smile dance in them. I would get lost in them, and wish to never find my way back. Her eyes were a beautiful shade. I think they were violet, but they could've been bright purple. Were those the same thing? Anyway, I would love looking into her eyes, and watching her laugh and smile and curtsy and go about her day with me tagging right behind. I never wanted to leave her side, no matter what it took.
But then they came.
I never got to see her smile ever again. Or hear her laugh. Or get lost in her eyes. I haven't done such a thing with her in years, because now she's gone… With her, she took the part of me that was truly happy. Back then, I had been upset over the divorce of my parents, but she was there to help me back up on my feet. But not anymore. Now she's gone. She's off somewhere with them, doing whatever nasty things their kind do. I wish I could see her again, but… I can't. I couldn't possibly afford to run into her one day, with her new friends and her new personality and her new… her new everything. There wouldn't be anything about her that wasn't new. She would be just like them now, and it hurt every fiber of my body to think about it.
Just thinking about it—thinking about how I will never get her back—makes me sick to my stomach, and so I rush to the porcelain toilet as fast as I can with my disability, leaning forward. I clutched the side of the toilet so I wouldn't fall in and heaved. But nothing came out. It was dry, and because I hadn't eaten anything in the past day or so. I had ignored my mother's demand of feeding my body its nutrients and needed medicine, or else I wouldn't get any better. But I didn't listen, and refused to eat, or else I would end up throwing it up, like I was trying to right now.
There was nothing occupying the insides of my stomach, so I gave up, pulling away and wiping away the saliva that had trickled down my chin while I was hanging there over the toilet, lost in thought. I coughed a couple times into the inside of my elbow, clearing my throat and tasting blood. I had irritated one of my lungs again, and now I had to take my medicine, or else I wouldn't be able to breathe in a few minutes.
Sighing, I rolled the wheels of my wheelchair so I was out of the kitchen and heading to the kitchen. I was grateful for the one-story that we had gotten, even before my incident, and passed through the threshold that separated the living room and the kitchen. Reaching for the counter as high as I could without hurting my legs, I knocked over my medication and caught it before it could fall onto the floor and once again out of my reach. I popped the top open and grabbed the cup of water I had fixed earlier this morning. I swallowed the pill with my water, checking the label and frowning. I had to eat, or else it would screw with my system. Well, that sucked.
Once again, I had to move around in my wheelchair, but only a little this time, and wrenched open the refrigerator. Food, food, food… Oh, hey, my Big Mac from… a few weeks ago. I wrinkled my nose in disgust. One, I wasn't allowed to have McDonalds anymore. And two, it was almost a month old and I could see the mold trying to grow out of the cardboard box. I've had some nasty things, okay, but this is just horrible. I tossed it into the trash, cautiously, and grabbed for an apple instead, wary of my braces as I took a bite. Sure, apples tasted good, but I was really looking forward to a Big Mac after so long…
Another flash of bitter memories passed through my mind, and I dropped my apple. I swore under my breath and reached for it, but my dog got to it before I could and wandered through the porch door and out into the grass to chew on it for a bit. I sighed, rubbing my temples for a few moments before going back to the fridge. I could always fix myself a salad or something.
I looked up at where the pantry was—to my right. I wheeled myself over to where it was and pulled the two doors open, grabbing for a thing of crackers and shoving them in my mouth. Okay, I will admit… It felt really nice to have some food in my stomach, but it hurt like a bitch to swallow. So I drank some more water. I hated being sick while injured as well, and cursed our quarterback for slamming into me like that for the ball. We were so far away from beating the other team, too, so why even try? I rolled my eyes and closed the pantry, and then closed the fridge, which I had left open. If mom had found it like that, I would've been in some deep shit for that.
I spotted some picture frames over in the hallway while I was rolling myself back over to my room, and smiled sadly at the ones closest to my door. It was a picture of me with her, and we were smiling, and holding hands, and looking like we were having the time of our lives. Yeah, we were… But—
I yelped, as a sharp pain shot up my spine as yet another memory of that exact night came to mind again. I hated having these sudden flashes of memory, and usually they were just unpleasant ones of other events, but lately they had been of her and them. I would reminisce in the ones with her in it, but the moment they appeared, I would shy away and distract myself until it all faded from mind. Usually, my mom would be around, but this time, my dad was here to take care of me, so I was left to go and whimper to him about how I wasn't feeling good.
When I reached the room that he stayed at whenever he stayed over, which was rare, I flinched when he shot me a glance that was ice-cold and definitely one of his looks. But when he realized it was me, his gaze softened, but he didn't lose the glare. I guess that was just his kind of thing. "What is it?" he asked, gruffly. Had he been drinking last night? I swear I had heard some mumbling last night, but that might've just been the hunger getting to me. "It better be important, boy."
"No, it's just…" I hesitated, playing with the rubber of one of my wheels. I couldn't fit past his door, so I remained where I was: outside of it. "I was feeling a little sad about… ya'know…" When I looked up, he dropped the glare, and it was as if he was giving me sympathy, of all things he could've given me. I flinched again. "I-I was just wondering if we could talk or play games or… or something…"
There was a pregnant pause, and I bit down on my lower lip, careful of my braces. Was he upset at me? Should I have just kept my mouth shut? Dammit… I should have really just said nothing at all and gone about my business, just like always. But after a long time, he finally said, "We could go out for a bit, if you like."
My eyes lit up, and I nodded vigorously. "R-Really?" It had been ages since I had been outside! The only times I ever went outside were to go to the hospital if I got really sick from my medicines, or if my condition got worse. "That would be awesome! Thank you so mu—"
"Just keep your voice down," he muttered, cutting me off. My smile dropped, and I was worried that maybe he had changed his mind already. "I'm not feeling so well, so I suggest you don't yell in that annoying voice of yours before I knock your teeth out of your braces."
Immediately, my smile returned, and I laughed, nodding. "Thanks!" I wheeled right out of his doorway, smiling the whole way back to my room. Now I just had to get dressed for outside! I was so excited; I was literally bouncing in my wheelchair the entire time.
Oh— I paused in my excitement. How was I going to get dressed without mom here? She was the only one who would volunteer to help me out when I needed help pulling my pants on. I looked down at the pajama pants that were from a few days ago. Mom had left not too long after she had helped me into my sleep clothes, and now I was stuck in them.
"Uh… dad…"