Through his eyes: Chapter 4
I cracked my eyes open slightly, wincing at the bright sunlight streaming in through the hallway. I blinked a bit until my eyes had adjusted, then sat up and put my glasses on, running a hair through my messed up hair.
My dreams that night had been odd; disjointed. I could barely remember them, but the colours were so vivid, and the shapes so fluctuating, that I don't think I would have understood them even if I remembered them.
I rubbed my face a little with my hands, then looked over to the glowing luminescent clock that had been glaring its quarry at me all night. The time was twenty seven minutes to seven. Oh joy, I'm an early bird. Well, there wasn't much use staying in bed, so I got up, trying not to wake up Kumajiro, and changed into my jeans and my red hoodie. From the calendar on the wall, I saw that it was Saturday.
I crept quietly through the darkened hallway, illuminated only briefly by splashes of sunlight. I came out into the kitchen, the muted footsteps sounding unnaturally loud. I blinked; the sunlight came in through the kitchen window too.
I turned to the fridge, and I wondered if there was anything in there to make some breakfast. I found some milk, and I pulled up the lid of the egg carton, smiling a little to myself when I saw that there was one or two left. I knew what I was going to make.
About ten minutes later, I had a huge platter of pancakes sitting next to the stove, and everyone who was still home had come, entranced by the smell (I'd learned that the father goes to golf on Saturdays). I pulled a bottle of maple syrup out of the cupboard and held it on the tray as I took it over to the table.
"Here you go.." I said, the quietness of my voice still confusing me. It didn't matter though; they seemed to hear me. They dug in happily, squirting the syrup all over them. I grinned again as they dug in savagely, as if they hadn't had pancakes in ages. After only a few bites, they began to moan, and I panicked a little. Wh…what? Are they bad? My face seemed to say, right up until the girl cried out that they were the best pancakes she had ever tasted, ever!
I smiled sheepishly and blushed a little. I wasn't used to such praise….even France was never this kind to me.
Wait….did I just call him France? I shook my head a little to clear that thought out. His name was Francis, wasn't it?
Oh, I don't really know. My head always seems to name them as countries before I can interrupt and give them their proper names. It must have been some sort of UN thing, and I know them as countries before I know them as people….yeah, that has to be it. Can't be anything else.
….Can it?
A/N
Yay, my first authors notes!
Anyways, I am a very unreliable uploader. I write and upload whenever I get inspired to. So don't think I'm updating constantly. [
Anyways, I'm trying to make this story different from any others. This is sort of…a morbid story. I don't know why I like to write such dark stories when I'm such a friendly person, but there you go. Instead of just being another unit, he's obviously someone who became a unit. I won't give away any more, because it hasn't been said, but there you have it.