4. The Defeat Of A Child
So here I am. The war was nearing it's end. But as for the victor, it was impossible to say thus far. The numbers on both sides were dropping dramatically. And now, it was just me, against France.
France was quite a bit bigger than me. An unfair advantage.
We faced each other, swords in our hands. We rushed for each other, and it went by in a blur. I felt my blade hit something once or twice, but I was no match.
He nearly had me. He was so much stronger. He hit me once more, and I fell to my knees. He walked towards me.
This can't be happening! This is unfair! I still need to see Italy again!
France came up to me, and bent down. His left hand grabbed the back of my hair, while his right hand held his sword. It was pointed straight at my neck. He kicked my sword away. He leaned in close. "So," He said quietly. It was terrifying. "Are there any last words?"
Was there any last words? Did I have any words left in me? I felt the darkness closing in on me. But what was this darkness? Fear? Death?
Then I realized, what it was I wanted to say. Something I'd been wanting to say, so badly during these thirty years. It had been bubbling inside of me, wanting to get out. It found it's way up my throat, and out of my mouth.
"Italy. . ."
The sword tip press against my neck. But then it was pulled away. Why?
"What was that you said?" The Frenchman said. He sounded shocked. Why? What was happening all of a sudden?
"Italy." I said again.
"You know Italy?" France asked. I nodded weakly. What was with this man? How the heck did he know Italy? "How?" The man asked. He dropped his sword, grabbing my collar with both hands. "How do you know Italy?"
Why was man so concerned? I didn't understand. But I felt as if I wanted to tell him. No, that's not it. I just needed to say it out loud. I struggled to get the words out. I was getting weaker, the darkness was still closing in. What was this darkness? The words were working their way out.
"I… Love… Italy…" I managed. I heard the man gasp. I felt his hands drop from my shirt. I drooped, sinking down further on my knees.
"I cant…" I heard France say. What was he talking about? He continued talking to himself. "I can't go back saying that I lost to the kid… But I can't just kill Italy's friend… What should I do?..." Did this guy really know Italy? I forced my head up somewhat so that I could see him. He had backed off from me. He was on his knees, one hand on the ground, the other on his face.
"What if…" He continued. "What if he simply 'disappeared'? I could say I couldn't find him, or that I killed him…" He looked over at me. He came in front of me again. Man this guy smells bad.
"Listen, Holy Roman Empire." He said. "I can't just kill you, but I can't let you go either. So I want you to disappear. Poof! I'll say I killed you. You'll leave. Find Italy if you wish. But 'you' can't live. Do you understand?"
In all honesty, I had no idea what he was talking about. But if there was a chance that I could see Italy again, I'll take it. I nodded. The darkness grew closer still.
"Wonderful." I think this guy was crazy. "Now, I need to work this out…"
I think he kept talking to me, but I couldn't hear him. The darkness… The silence… It was all so close. It almost had a flavor, or a scent. It was almost sweet. I heard a little voice…
France was pacing. Someone entered the clearing where we were. France seemed to panic. He looked at me, said something, and I felt something hit my face hard.
The darkness nearly had me. There was still a pinprick of light. Everything ran through my head at once. I thought of Italy. I thought of my home. Italy, home, Italy, home… They were one in the same.
I felt as if I was being lifted, carried in someone's arms. I know now. What this darkness is. What the last bit of light is. My mind. I was slowly losing my mind, only a pinprick left. The darkness swallowed me up.
