Yes, yes I remember that time.
That time that feels like just yesterday, yet so long ago.
Listen here, let me tell you a story, it all begins in a place called purgatory.
Well, sort of.
For me at least…
"Dude! DUDE! I just had an AWESOME idea on how to save the polar bears!"
"Did someone mention zhe awesome me?"
"YOU WANKER! HOW DID YOU GET IN? GO HOME AND WATCH ANIME OR SOMETHING, YOU BUGGER!"
"But I don't wanna, you British jerk of jerks. After all I am a real country so I should be able to go to a world meeting as well!"
"Ohonhonhonhon, Britain-,"
"BUGGER OFF, FRANCE!"
"All of these western countries are so immature!"
"PAAAASSSSTTAAAAA !"
"-sigh- I wonder if I make some noise someone will-,"
"American pigman! I'm gonna beat your head 'till I feel better!"
"Maple hockey! What are you doing? What makes you think I'm Amer-,"
"Cause I can smell the hamburgers and arrogance all the way over here, man!"
"Look, I'm Canada! You can tell from the flag on my backpack, my cheap prescriptions, and lack of gun crime, so stop calling me America or I'll kindly request a second time that you cease!"
"-knuckle crack- Oh, so you're America's little whipping boy, huh?"
"I'M CANADAAAHHH!"
I sighed as I started running from the confused Cuban man. What use is it? I look all around me and see that no one is paying attention, nobody cares.
I run towards the double doors that lead to the exit as I evade an enraged Cuban's head smacks. I quickly rush through the doors and sprint towards my car. Snow crunching under my feet, I unlock the car and quickly make it to the vehicle.
Letting out a breath of relief, I rest my head on the steering wheel and smile. Of course, i had lost him, being practically invisible. It was just a normal world meeting, after all. No need to feel depressed or anything as one normally would be after being ignored constantly and mistaken for one of the biggest pricks out there.
I pick my head up off of the steering wheel and, putting the keys in the ignition, I start driving home. It doesn't matter that I left early; I didn't have anything prepared to talk about. Hell, I didn't think anyone would show up! I mean, the meeting was held in Toronto. After all, who even knows I exist? I mean, the American prick does, but he's abnormally violent towards me, especially when playing sports, and France only knows me for having his "sexy hair, non?" and Cuba has a huge temper, even if he is a nice guy when not clouded by pure and utter rage against America. Even Kumacookie doesn't know who I am.
But, even I have people who recognize me. Who are actually nice to me, because, what is a country with no citizens? Despite all the tension and somewhat hatred for some of my coworkers, (Not that I would tell them to their faces that I don't like them. That's impolite.) I still love Kumacheckers and my citizens. I can relate to my citizens, and to be fair, i still cant remember Kumacheese's name. Nothing can get in the way of me living a happy life. And yet, with all these people surrounding me, I can't help but feel lonesome. Something is just… missing…
I pause my thoughts as I turn on the radio, not caring what came on. For some reason, Songs from the Wood came on, not that I was complaining! I haven't heard it in a while, and at home I always used to jam to this song and its rock and roll flute. It's just such a unique song!
As I was enjoying the old-ish song I was listening to, I failed to notice a beam of light shooting out into the desolate road I was on. (i) I suddenly felt my car lurch and heard a loud "POP!" This was repeated three times until I crashed, all tires popped. Hitting my head on the steering wheel (ii), things around me started to turn black. The last things I saw were blurry figures in black cloaks and with masks on opening the door and pointing stick-things at me. I could only make out a few words said by them, but what I heard made my blood run cold, and memories started to rush towards me at the speed of light.
"You joking… Dark Lord….. eeds hi… don't kno…. is he even a wiza… Britain….. ilthy mudblood…. informat… kill." That is all I heard. That is all I needed to hear to know that I was royally screwed.
The funny thing is, the only thing I could think about, other than being screwed, was how I never got to finish listening to the song! And I just got to the awesome flute solo!
Hello again, guys! Just wanted to say that I don't know when I'll be posting again next, but it is probably sure to be sometime soon! If you guys see any mistakes, or want to add something to this plotline, please leave a review! Hell, even if you just leave random questions for me like what my favorite cookie was or something, I don't care! I'll even answer any questions you have for me, random or not, just please review and put whatever nonsense you want there! After all, it at least shows me that people are, indeed reading, and it will keep me motivated to keep writing and keep trying to improve! Thanks for reading!
-TheChibitalian
P.S. You should really to songs from the wood, it's really good! Also, sorry for the short chapter, I had to cut it short because it's getting late. I swear I have insomnia!
(i) Even though he was in Toronto, in this fanfiction Countries can travel freakishly fast, he was a little more than halfway to Vancouver at the time, as I made his house in Vancouver, and based on the geography and percentage of people who live between Toronto and all those cities and the Rocky Mountains, I would assume that there would be very little traffic, and not many gas stations either. Based on this hypothesis, I made this road desolate, as I have never been to Canada in my life. If I am incorrect in my assumptions, please inform me. (Damn, I can sound so formal when i want to :3 weird.)
(ii) His airbag malfunctioned when the magic hit the car. Consequently, no electricity could flow through the car, as it tends to short out when it comes in contact with magic. So, no airbag, no protection. Simple as that.