Chance

Darkness envelopes me within it's ebony grasp. I search for a beacon of light, but with no prevail. Who is that in the distance? I wonder, adjusting my glasses. More than that, who is she?

Her curly, silky blond hair was grown out and parted into two pigtails tied with vermillion ribbons. Behind the rims of her oval glasses lay pools of violet, filled with despair. As I walk closer to her, she notices me and reaches out her hand. Determined to reach her, I broke out into a run, the look in the girl's eyes spurred me on.

"Matthew..." She whispers, almost inaudibly. She repeats it again and again, the volume and hysteria rising in her voice with every call of my name. Only inches away until I could touch her ivory hand, the ground beneath my feet suddenly gave way.

I sunk like a rock, the pit of my stomach performing backflips. An invisible weight was creeping onto my chest, making each breath harder to inhale. It felt as if there was someone on top of me, anchoring me down as I seeped into the depths of hell itself.

A blood-curtailing scream echoed from the surface. "That girl! Is she in trouble?" I thought to myself. No, it sounds more like...me! A gunfire rung in my ears shortly after, I cupped my ears to avoid deafness, shutting my eyes for good measure. England's musket?

"Matthieu," A familiar voice crooned, "I'm sorry, mon ange."

It took me a while to relize I had screamed myself awake. I shot straight up, finally out of my nightmarish sleep and back into reality. Myself and my bed were both bathed in cold sweat and my heart was beating a mile a minute. Damn it all, for the last two months since Francis left, I've been having the same nightmare over and over.

And on top of that, I've been hearing voices in my head, nothing close to my concience. No, it was more of a...person speaking to me. Usually just a word comes out of him, sometimes it's an undeciperable French quote that doesn't help my case at all.

But the strangest thing is, he sounds just like me. Obviously, louder and a lot more gruff, but the ethnicity was still there.

"Mattie! What's wrong? I heard yelling and-" Alfred's voice was rushed and paranoid. He had indiscreetly smashed open my door in an attempt to help me. England was hot on my twin's heels, rushing over to examine my body like he would always do when I had nightmares as a child.

"You're lucky you didn't hurt yourself, you could've fallen from your bed." Arthur berated patronizingly, but steadied himself to avoid yelling at me.

"Sorry for making you worried...I'm fine, really!" I rebutted. But Arthur was waiting for answers, I sighed in defeat, "I've been having nightmares about that night, they started the night France left two months ago..."

Arthur's face paled. He knew exactly what I was speaking of. The night France left me and my family for the first time.

"Also, in the nightmares, I keep seeing this girl...and she looks so much like me! Not to mention I hear a singular voice in my head everyday-" I added, but Arthur cut me off short with his emerald eyes, piercingly serious.

My mother-country bit his lip and thought long and hard, "I think...I think we-you...should see a psychiatrist," Arthur started, warily, "I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I kept you in this state!"

I pursed my lips in a hard line, and looked away at my feet. Arthur sighed internally and stood up, ushering Alfred out with him.

I sighed myself once I was sure the door had closed properly behind them. No, not a psychiatrist! I thought to myself, anything but that!

I did something I'd rarely ever do, only ever in dire situations. Kneeling in front of my bed, I prayed. Dear Lord, could He find it in His heart to give this sinner's soul a chance to turn back the clock and chance Fate's course? I hope this isn't too much to ask...

...Amen...

Getting up off the floor, I picked up Kumajiro; who had curled up beside me last night and was still sleeping soundlessly, as I made my way out of my room to eat breakfast, more or less as a family.

~•XxXxX•~

A silent night once more, yet eerie as the mice scurry in-between the walls and the creaking of the floorboards from Alfred's room above. Normal, that is, until I fall asleep. Then, and only then, the psychopathic labyrinth called my mind comes to life and gets to run rampant in my dreams.

I sleepily shut my eyes, willing to get this night over and done with so I can savour the next daybreak.

"Should we tell him?" The gruff voice whispers. That's weird, I thought I only heard that voice in my head...Oh God! I've gone mad!

"A-Ah?!" Was all I could say at the uncomprehendable scene in front of me. Yeah, curiosity killed the cat defiantly fitted this scenario completely.

In front of me, at the end of my bed, stood the girl from my nightmares and I presume the voice in my head. They almost looked like they were floating, as if the people themselves were just simply illusions and mirages.

"Who the hell are you?" I whisper-yelled, in order not to draw any attention to myself. I certainly wouldn't want Alfred goading me about all these "visions" and "ghosts" for the rest of my days, let alone Arthur discovering another reason to why it might be a good idea to ship me off to the madhouse!

The girl gave me a sad smile, "We're both you from amother time..."

"And how the fuck is that supposed to make sense?!" I couldn't help it, I let that one slip. The girl flinched at the use of my colorful vocabulary, a reason to believe that she was right. I hate swearing, so call me a hypocrite.

"She means that we're you in different dimensions. She's your female counterpart and I'm your flipped personality, your 2P in short." The man spat back curtly, defending the girl that was just short of tears.

I opened my mouth to make a snide comeback, but the guilt hit me hard as soon as I caught sight of the poor girl's glassy, violet eyes.

The man took out a lighter and relit a used cigarette he was holding between his fingers, stepping up onto my bed all the while. Taking a long drag and blowing the smoke into my face was a bit of an overkill, though.

"Alright, I'm sorry." I directed at the girl, pushing the man out of my face before he dared to take another drag. The girl nodded, her way of accepting apologies, before she walked to the other side of my bed.

"If it isn't too much to ask, could I at least get your names and an explanation of what the f-hell is going on." I requested, remembering to falter the use of blasphemy.

The girl answered me this time, "I'm Madeline, Maddie for short. And this is Matt, but he responds to Matthieu as well..."

I felt my heart pang in grief at the French name I was so "lovingly" called as a child. I shuddered as a result of remembering that damned frog.

Madeline's sad smile returned, a hint of understanding, "We came here...to give you another chance." It took me at least five seconds to understand what she meant.

"My prayer..." I mused. Matt extinguished his cigarette with his own two fingers and stamped it into the beige carpet that covered the floor of my room. It was much to my regret, I'd have a hard time removing ash from the carpet. Damn bastard...

"We know you hate France with a passion, but we're not too stupid to see that you also miss him, and that you would go to such lenghts as to change Fate in order to get him back," Matt smirked and pushed a shoe-box into my arms.

Giving them both a suspicious glance, I opened the lid. Inside, a syringe with sterile needles accompanied a strange, green liquid in a vile. Definitely a drug of some sort, probably an illegal narcotic fresh off the black market.

I looked up at them, both in disgust and doubt. "Matt's idea." Madeline explained sarcastically, addressing Matt.

"This drug is inserted into the main artery on the inside of your arm. You will experience a flashback every time you inject yourself with it. The flashbacks will be showing different times in you life, but they will all show the increase and decrease in the bond you share with France," Matt explained, his voice turned serious at the next part, "But whatever you do, do not go over the dosage of 5ml at one time, space out the usage evenly and try not to get hooked, because that would be a real shame for everyone."

I looked down at the drugs. I'll defiantly need all of my self-control, and I can't afford to let Arthur or Alfred see this, they'd go through the roof for sure!

I looked up, expecting the two to still be in front of me, but the both of them were starting to wither away into thin air. I guess they have over-stayed their welcome.

"Wait! How is this going to bring back Francis?!" I call to them, there are still so many questions to ask.

"We'll let you figure that one out on your own, eh!" Madeline answered, and with that, they had vanished.

I hid the shoe-box in the safest place possible, my combination safe. I usually keep things of my history in there, but this was just as important. I just hope it's smell-proof...

Now onto pressing matters, how can drugs help a persons life? So far, no one has proved that statement right! So how can I believe them? Then again, this is all I've got to get my France, my father, back.

And I won't stop at anything to until my ex-colonizer promises to stay, forever.

Translations:

• Mon ange = My angel

Well, I made this chapter longer at least! I hope you like it, I'm open to reviews. Leave a favorite to show your support!

Tune in next time for 'Chapter Two, Past'

Bye!