KNOCK KNOCK.
"Brother. Let me in."
KNOCK KNOCK.
"Brother, please it's cold outside. I have nowhere else to go."
KNOCK KNOCK.
"Brother-"
"G-go away! I don't want to marry you!"
"Please, brother, I need somewhere to stay."
KNOCK KNOCK.
"Br-brother?"
KNOCK KNOCK. KNOCK KNOCK.
"Broth-brother? P-please, I need your help..."
"No! Leave me alone! I don't want you here!"
Belarus stood, in the cold, outside Russia's house. Her clothes were ragged, her hair a mess. Tears stained her face, as the once haughty and scary nation turned into nothing but a frightened girl, seeking the comfort of her family. She knocked again.
"I-I have n-nowhere to go... P-please let me in..." she pleaded one more time- and it was true. She had just been attacked. Her home had been attacked. Belarus the country was going up in flames. Her own injuries scarred her body, red, angry welts popping up everywhere as more of her country burned. If she didn't get medical help, or aid for her country then she would die. The cold began to get to her through her now-thin clothes. She clutched her own elbows, bringing in her shoulders for warmth, as she waited for a reply.
There was none.
Fresh tears rolled down her face as she stood staring at Russia's door. She understood that maybe he was little scared of her, but they were family! How could he turn her away when she needed him most? How?
A small spark of hope ignited as the door opened, and light flooded her face.
"Mr Russia says if you don't leave now he will have you arrested," the maid said. Belarus nodded, turning and leaving, her feet becoming buried in the new snow.
There was nowhere for her to go. Russia had been the last hope for her and her country. She staggered onto an empty street, sniffling. This was it. Belarus would fall, and she...
She would die.
The prospect of death scared her. Never had she been in a position where she couldn't turn things around, sometimes with help and sometimes without. She had no power, so she couldn't scare the other countries into helping her, and she had no allies except Russia, having been so infatuated with him her whole life.
Her life. She had wasted it! She spent years and years yearning after a man who didn't- and wouldn't- love her. She never saw China... or Canada... She heard that the flowers in England were very nice at this time of year... Fuzziness began to appear on the edge of her vision, as more welts and bruises bloomed like unwanted weeds on her skin. She cried out, unable to hold in her pain. She could feel Death coming closer. Blackness ate away at her sight. She whimpered, gazing at the soft snow that suddenly was in line with her face.
If I am going to die, Belarus thought, I will die looking at the sky. With some effort, her final effort she believed, she rolled over, crystals already forming on her. Snow drifted down, cooling her heated skin. The sky, it was a greyish blue, as snowflakes danced around, falling from the heavens and bound to the Earth.
"Belarus?"
Blonde hair and thick black eyebrows. Green eyes looking at her. She tried to tell the stranger to move, that she wanted to see the sky, not his stupid face, but she was already unconscious.