Cuts and Bruises
Lithuania sighed and rubbed a damp cloth over his wounds. Russia had beaten him again. He had come home drunk and angry, a common occurrence to the Baltic's. While Russia was fuming, Lithuania had coaxed the others away and stood before Russia. He winced as the drunken nation's innocent-looking face twisted into a malicious sneer. Russia had staggered over to a trembling Lithuania while grinning excitedly, delighted at the prospect of releasing his infuriation.
Russia was never one to show mercy, and this time was no exception. With a rage Russia had barbarically struck him, over and over, until all Lithuania felt was searing agony. It felt as though a surging flame was consuming his every fibre in a wrathful fury. Soon, time seemed to slow, and even pain melted away, leaving nothing but numbness.
After what seemed like millennia later, Russia grew bored with his victim, and Lithuania had crawled to his room, leaving a trail of blood behind him.
The nation knew that he could escape, but he knew that he must stay and take all this pain so Russia would not hurt the others as much. The others, of course, were Estonia, and Latvia. Estonia was such a intelligent, serious person, and Latvia a shy meek one. But when around Russia, both were cowering at their own shadows, scared out of their minds. Russia could strike terror into even the strongest nation, which none of them were. And whenRussia took his near-constant anger out his friends, Lithuania felt simply awful for not protecting them, for taking each of Russia's blows for himself. The other Baltic's were younger then himself, and weaker, and each cut that he saw etched into the skin of either of them, made him feel immensely guilty. He would protect them with his life, because to him they were brothers, even if they were not related by blood. After all, the three of them were known as the Baltic trio.
Lithuania dropped the cloth, now stained crimson, and traced a finger over his scars. There was too many to count now. Each was unique, some larger and deeper then others, others small and shallow, but all bore the shame that he had to bear to the world. That shame was that him and the other Baltic nations belonged to Russia, and Russia constantly reminded them of it. To the nation, giving scars to others was no different to writing his signature, it gave him no guilt to cause others such pain.
Lithuania grunted in discomfort as he prodded at a particularly fresh cut and he then dropped his arm to his side. He felt tears begin to stream down his pale skin, and soon his body was being racked with sobs. He slumped to the ground and let lose his pain and sorrow, crying for all of the torture him and the other Baltic's faced constantly. Crying for the injustice of his life. Crying for the misfortune that manifested itself within him the moment he met Russia. But like every time he cried, it did not last. Sometimes he believed that his tears had run drywall from all the times he had cried.
Lithuania knew that no human being should be treated like this, treated lower
then even an animal. To have your culture and pride ripped away from you, to lose all reason to live. But he put up with it. To protect the others, he told himself every time he was beaten, I don't want to see them hurt like this... They do not deserve to hurt like I do... Nobody does. Not even Russia himself.
Lithuania wondered why he must be so undyingly loyal to the other Baltic's. Perhaps if he wasn't, he could live freely somewhere else, without constant fear. But he quickly dispelled that thought, How can I even think about leaving Estonia and Latvia? He asked himself fiercely, furious with himself for even contemplating abandoning them. Lithuania knew at he could escape with ease, but the others did not know the routes around this place like he did. He knew practically every corner of the vast country, from being Russia's underling for century's. He thought that he could maybe go back to America. Within the short time that he had lived there, he had known what true freedom felt like. America had treated him wonderfully, and the memories of the tine almost convinced him to run off at that moment. But even if he did escape, Russia would find him... And the thought of Russia's anger if he ever caught him running away... Lithuania gave a violent shudder at the mere thought of all the horrible punishments he knew that Russia was capable of thinking of.
He then shakily stood up and wiped his damp face with his sleeve. Lithuania thought of Estonia's intelligent, stoic face, and then Latvia's kind, shy face. Thinking of the other two Baltic's made him narrow his green eyes, and clench his fists in a sense of sudden conviction.
I will be brave for them! He thought determinedly, I will bear all of the cuts and bruises that Russia has to offer!