After The War
Chapter Four: Escape!
Hey, I'm updating once again! I would like to take this time to thank everyone who has reviewed so far! Now, time to answer reviews:
TheDeadOne28 - Damn, your review made me laugh. Don't worry, Roma will encounter most of those things and maybe the last one too, maybe...
Spamano4ever - Yeah, I would say he's like a bambino and of course, France could never compete XD
Onward with the story!
I crack open my eyes, I almost have a heart attack because at the moment I am laying on Spain's chest with our faces like a few inches apart. Nope, nope, nope, nope, no. Using my only eye, I look around and gather enough information to know it's night, I'm in a bed and Spain fucking snores. Okay, he looks like he's out and he won't notice if I leave.
I roll to the left, off of Spain and onto the other side of the bed. I freeze as I hear Spain move, but he just turns over to face the right, that;s even better. I see my crutches, on top of a shelf that even if I was standing up, I wouldn't be able to reach. Shit, now I can't walk, but I can still crawl!
I try to slide off the bed silently, but gracefully fall face first onto the ground. I curse, holding my nose then I freeze, listening, Spain is still snoring away I can continue escaping, yay! I look at my foot in the cast, well more of glare at it as I drag myself across the floor, feeling like a seal, a very fat seal.
Oh and guess what! My tank top is fucking gone and I'm only in my boxers, joy. I don't know how I lost my clothes, but now I can care less because my main goal is just to get out of here, out of this terrible place. The door to the room is open, thank you, this makes this so much easier.
I am now dragging myself down the hall when I see a light turn on and I see a door open, oh shit. I drag myself as quietly as I can manage into a dark corner and watch to see who comes out. It's France, he looks both ways, shrugs and closes the door again, the light goes off and I am once again free to move again.
More quietly this time, I move myself down the hall and turn to left and there are stairs, fucking stairs. I ease myself into a position where my feet are pointing toward the stairs and begin to slide down them. Bump, bump, bump, bump, that is all I hear as I slide downward, I try to go slower as to not make as much noise. I finally make it to the bottom, breathing hard, this is the most movement I've done in days.
I head for the living room, getting there and pulling myself onto the couch. I lay there for about ten minutes, catching my breath and feeling like I'm about to die. Finally, I sit up and looks at the flat television, there's a DVR, I think that's what it's called and it has the time. Shit, it's 2:46 in the morning, I feel a surge of nostalgia course through me.
Suddenly I'm on the battlefield, shots are being fired while it's pitch black. "What time is it?" I hear someone scream and wonder, why the hell are you asking what time it is right now? "2:46" I hear another scream before the two who yelled were shot, dammit, they were amazing shooters, but they were stupid.
And now I'm back on the couch, with wide eyes, ahem, eye and frantically looking around, but there are no guns, no soldiers, and no bombs, I'm just at home. As soon as I calm down, I push myself up, using the couch arm as a temporary crutch. I test my foot in the cast and it doesn't hurt, in fact it feels like I'm walking on my regular foot. Well, now I know I don't even need those fucking crutches.
I let go of the couch and begin walking in circles, testing my foot out. I take a step, falling on my face, but I get up again, take another step and another and another. Soon, I can walk fine, just like a normal person. I walk to the closet by the front door, open it up and look inside for some clothes. Do you really think I would escape with just boxers on? That would draw too much unwanted attention.
I pick out some black jeans, I wonder why fratello put black jeans in the coat closet, but whatever, I do need them. I put them on with a total of seven falls, two bleeding scratches, four bruises. I turn to the mirror on the other side of the door, these jeans look pretty good on me.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps coming down the stairs, so what else do I do then jump into the closet and shut the door as quietly and as quickly
as I can.
"Roma, where are you?"
Oh, God it's Spain, shitshitshitshit.
"He probably just went to the bathroom"
I can hear Spain reason with himself before I can hear his retreating footsteps. He'll probably fall asleep as soon as he touches the bed, so I can once again continue with my escape. I crack open the door, step out and continue choosing what I'm going to where. I see a black and white striped long-sleeved sweater shirt and put that on which by the way, was way more easier than the pants. I also put on a white jacket that has the words "Assassin's Creed" printed on the front of it. Well, it is fitting, I used to be an assassin, but that's another story for after I leave.
I reach into the pocket of the jacket and find my rectangle, IPhone, whatever it's called and turn it on. The time is 3:32, well, I have a solid three hours before anyone will wake up and I'll be long gone by then. I take another look into the closet and see a purse, I grab it and open it.
There's a wallet with a lot of euros in it, this can be used to my advantage.
I stick the wallet in ther other pocket on my jacket and close the closet door. I flash a rare smile before opening the front door and slipping out, closing it quietly behind me. However, before I leave, I give the farewell of my people.
"Adios bitches!"