I...I don't know where this came from...I guess I wanted to write something...sort of depressing...meh. .
The world was coming to a devastating end. There was no doubt about it. I had shed so many tears, and watched my comrades fall before me so many times. But this time, I knew I wasn't going to be a survivor. I was already half gone.
Amelia. She was gone. My western half destroyed. Mattie was gone. Japan was gone. Hungary, Austria, Prussia, and this time, for good. All gone. Along with Germany...and Spain. And South Italy. How could all these people just up and disappear? It didn't seem possible. Not until now.
Not until now, because I was experiencing it myself. I knew how it felt. But there were still some of my friends, that still stood strongly beside me now. Who knew Russia could ever become this strong? That he would recreate the Soviet Union? Why?
Russia and I had been friends in the past. Even after the Cold War, we had become close once again. But now I see that it was only because he had wanted to take me over. Each time he gained control over another nation, they would disappear. How could he take Mattie so easily? My own brother! Why hadn't I stayed to protect him? I hated myself for it. Regretted it everyday. But my life, and so many others would have been taken if Mattie's hadn't. Even so, it was so selfish of me.
"America!" Mattie called out to me. He was reaching for me, but he was past saving.
"I can't help you," I said simply. I was numb on the inside. It masked the pain. It was all happening again. Another one dying, and one I truly cared about. One I was so close to.
"Isn't there...-" Canada paused to cough up blood. "-anything you can do?"
"Mattie," I said. "Your capital's gone. Your provinces destroyed. Can't you feel it? There's nothing of you left. Nothing left to save. Even if I could, you're a goner."
I was so heartless. I hadn't even tried to comfort him. I had just left him in the ashes of his own country.
Stupid me! More memories flood my head...
"America-san...,"
Something I had heard so many times before. But not like this.
"Stay strong, Kiku," I said. But I knew he had nothing to stay strong for. He knew it too.
"Just take care of them, A-America-san," he said, coughing up blood.
Just like Matthew did. I never found out who he wanted me to take care of...
"Austria!" Hungary shouted, as Austria keeled over in pain. His capital was destroyed.
Hungary was next. Prussia cried out when he saw her in pain. And although he had always liked to tease Austria, he had been a friend.
Prussia didn't have time to grieve. Berlin was hit, and both he and Germany were down for the count.
Spain and Romano had gone together. I'm surprised Italy is still alive...though everything he does is motivated by the need to avenge his brother, Germany, and Japan. I feel that way too, sometimes.
Sometimes, Italy and I stay with each other. Besides England, he's the only one I have left. But Italy and I are more of the same. We have developed a sadistic glint in our eyes, a blood-thirsty need for violence to avenge our loved ones, too. I don't get why England doesn't join us.
After all, he lost France.
France had died alone, his capital going up in flames in the dead of night.
Perhaps all of these memories is the thing you get, the flashes of memories you get right before your death? Because I was close to death now. I felt a searing pain rip my chest open as the first bomb dropped on Washington D.C. I couldn't help but scream.
Somewhere, I found a voice. I called out for England, and he was by my side immediately.
"America!" he exclaimed. He knew what was happening.
"I love you," I said. I was using my last words to say things that I was never able to say before. I had always loved England.
"You git! You can't die! Not like this! You're a Hero!"
"I...you're right...but all Heroes have weaknesses. I guess this is mine."
"But they don't DIE from them!" England said, frantically. I laughed inside. I had figured out his whole 'Hero' thing awhile ago. Whenever he wanted to motivate me, he would say how heroic I would be, and it would always work. But being a Hero doesn't stop death.
I guess I'm not a real Hero after all. I always wanted to be. I wanted to be a Hero, and be strong for the rest of the world. But sometimes I fail. Sometimes I make mistakes. This has to be one of those times. A time where I make a mistake, and again, I fail to be a Hero. I fail to be the Hero I always wanted to be.
I had always looked up to England as my Hero. I told him that now.
"Iggy, did you know that you were always my Hero?" I asked him, before falling to my knees and throwing up blood. My head pounded. I didn't know how much longer I would last.
"America, what the hell are you saying? You're the only Hero, remember?! I'm just your backup!"
I couldn't respond. I only simply pulled him down to my level, and pressed my lips to his. Pulling away, I collapsed to the ground, falling on my side and gripping my stomach. I could feel my states, each individual one, being destroyed. My capital was gone. My heart was weak now. It wouldn't work much more now. It was stopping...
"America?!" England shouted in my ear. He was crying now. He wanted to save me.
I gave him a feeble smile as a reward for his attempt, but I didn't see his reaction. My eyes were closed.
I let out a breath. My last one. England noticed this.
"No! No! AMERICA!" he shouted. But I could barely hear him. I was already gone.
"Join me," I thought, directing the thought to England. "Join me in a better place."
I knew he wouldn't get these thoughts. But maybe he would get the message, and understand someday. Maybe, just maybe, he would join me.
Of course he would. He reached into the pocket of my bomber jacket for the gun I always kept there. You can guess what he did next. I guess he loved me too.
So...apparently this is what happens when I let my hands throw up on the keyboard xDD