Standing in the room of my and Prussia's home - most probably the last time for awhile - remembering all the good times we've had. My eyes are drawn to the ancient grand-father clock between two doors. I remember sitting on Prussia's broad shoulders, as he instructed me how to change the time and how to wind the large clock up. It's as imposing as it was hundreds of years ago. I turn to stare at the elegant staircase. Vividly, I relive the look on Gilbert's face as I walked down those stairs in my very first suit, tugging at the arms nervously. The only way I can describe his face is - proud. Red eyes shining and mouth agape in a large, joyous smile. As I faltered, he pulled me down to his level, then happily announced that he'd teach me to dance.
We've had so many good memories in this old house… I'm miss this place. But, in one respect, I'm glad I'm not living here for awhile; this place isn't the same without my brother. He's the East of my West.
Feeling tears behind my eyes, I quickly tear my eyes away from the staircase, letting them stare at my luggage: laying innocently at my side. Four black, bulky and battered trunks, filled with most of my belongings inside. A strong gust of wind blows through the open door behind me - accompanied by soft whistling.
Slowly, I turn around to face the world beyond the door. Bleak. Most of the fires have finally been put out - by humans or simply burning out, I don't know - leaving the horizon mostly covered by smoke and ash. The chard remains of Berlin can easily be seen, even through the smoke educed fog. Faint sobs can be heard. Widows, children and - in some cases - men, silently grieving for the fall of their precious "Fuhrer" I hear the motor of a car pull closer to where I'm standing. Turning to face the car, I see Arthur jump out of the back, straighten his suit and walk over to me.
"Ready to leave?" he asks cautiously. I simply nod in answer. It takes around half an hour to lift all the trunks into the back of the car. We both hunch over, trying to catch our breath.
"What. Have. You. Got. In. Those. Trunks?" he pants, this makes laugh.
"Come, or we'll be late for our plane" I turn to stare at the now locked house briefly, then jump into the car next to Arthur.