A short challenge my creative writing class teacher gave us the other day. We had to write a short-short story about one of our characters doing something for the first time using short, choppy sentences with five or less words. And it so happened that the character our of the five we created was our fifth one that she wanted us to use. Mine was is a German immigrant to America. So~ using creative lisence, I made the time out to be WWII and him in Germany and voilà. Then I was happy and decided it to post here! Think of it as Germany himself, my dearies~
Long explanation short - Germany in WWII or you could see it as my German character - Thomas Schimdt.
I don't own Hetalia. That's it.
I'm 18 now. Old enough! To join the army. The Luftwaffe. My dream! My goal! My ambition! But. Mutti shies from my hugs. Vater glares behind his glasses. I think they fear me. And I don't understand. I'm still the same. I haven't changed. Have I done something wrong? Something to upset or worry? And Monika. Dear Monika has left. To neutral Switzerland. Why is no-one supporting me?
I feel like I'm flying. Already. From my spot on Earth. Time is blurring. Buzzing. Zooming by. It's dizzying. This confusion. The HJ told me. (And the others.) We are New Germany. What we do. Now. Will be known by everyone! We are working. Hard. For the future. And I'm happy! I'm excited! I'll be fighting. For New Germany!
But, that feeling. That nagging feeling. Eating up my chest. It hurts so much. I know what I want. But, Mutti makes me wonder. Did I… Make the wrong choice?