MEIN GOTT! 12 REVIEWS ALREADY? That's . . . that's flipping awesome! In return, I shall promptly give you this wonderful new chapter~

Translations:

Mi pequeño tomate- My little tomato

Por favor- please

Ella es una linda, muy poco. No es de extrañar por qué hablar tanto~! – She's cute, little one. No wonder why you talk about her so much~!

"(Naaaame)? Heeeellloooo? Mi pequeño tomate?" Antonio waved a hand in front of your face, his face looking utterly childish in the unbelievably cute way.

"Huh? Oh, it's nothing," you said, looking down at your homework. You took an unsharpened pencil from your backpack and began to write math problems on a piece of scrap paper. Your friend did the same, only he was copying your work. You rolled your eyes at his laziness and lightly punched him the arm.

"Oh, lighten up, (Name)~!" Antonio said, patting your head. "You know how much I hate math! Do me a favor just this once, por favor?"

You sighed and shot him a glare of mock anger while scoffing, "Mmm-hmm. And you owe me, like, how many favors now?"

Antonio rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment before punching you back on the arm. You leaned on the large oak tree, still writing down math problems. Antonio shuffled over next to you, sitting closely to you. You didn't find this awkward at all (well, maybe just a little) because, after all, you and Antonio have been friends since preschool. He sighed, copied your work happily.

It was times like this your mind wandered to that day.

You were about seven, and you were sitting on a swing, your feet dangling inches away from the ground. No one bothered to push you, so there you sat, hands gripping the chains and sad, childish (E/C) eyes staring at the ground. The hot, summer day was at its worst, the blinding sun beating down on you. You flicked your head, eyes searching for your parents. Yes, they were clearly visible. They sat happily in the shade, their eyelids hanging over their (Parent's colored eyes and Parent's colored eyes) orbs.

"Hey! Amiga!" you looked up to see a little Antonio jogging up to you. "Mamá! This is my friend, (Name)!"

Behind Antonio was a friendly-looking mother who had a striking resemblance to your friend. Like Antonio, she had the long, dark brown curls that fell mid-way down her back and the tanned skin. Her eyes were a light honey, brown, unlike her son, but they still sparkled with life, just like his. But most of all was that warm, welcoming smile of hers. It made you melt with trust and happiness, like you could confide any secret to her and she wouldn't tell a soul.

"(Name)! This is mi mamá!" Antonio cried, gesturing towards his mother.

"Ella es una linda, muy poco. No es de extrañar por qué hablar tanto~!" she cried in Spanish, hugging her son lovingly.

"M-mamá!" Antonio whined, his face turning a deep crimson. The tone of his voice clearly told his mother to shut up, but the peppy woman smiled and turned to you.

"I'll leave mi pequeño Antonio with you, (Name)~," she said happily, walking towards your parents.

Like kids usually do, you and Antonio played in the park. It varied from crossing the "crocodile pit" underneath the monkey bars to tumbling down the "black hole," or the twisty slide as it is most commonly called. Currently, you two were trying to survive the harsh climate of the Sahara Desert (the sandbox).

"I'm so tired," Antonio cried, wiping an imaginary drop of sweat off his forehead.

"I am, too," you panted, tugging the sleeve of his red shirt. Dragging your filthy shoes across the sand, you pretended that you were not in (small/big/et cetera) (town/city) of (the place you live in). No, you were in Africa right now, testing your strength and endurance through the intense heat. You had nothing but your supplies and your best friend, Mr. Antonio Carriedo, as your assistant.

"I can't make it," he said dramatically, swaying unbalanced. He fell to his knees, hands digging in the sand. "It's so hot."

"No!" you cried, playing along with him. You stared into his eyes with playful horror, your hands gripping his shirt. "You can make it!"

"Well," Antonio gasped, covering his eyes from the hot, African sun, "I do have an idea. . . Unless, of course, you'll be up to it."

"You're my friend!" you exclaimed innocently. "Why wouldn't I? Friends stick together!"

"Okay, you must," Antonio said weakly before jumping on your back and laughing cheerfully, "give me a piggyback ride, (Name)~! Go go go!"

Struggling to keep the boy up, you gave him a piggyback ride through the "Sahara Desert." After tumbling out of the sandbox, you two rolled across the grassy ground, laughing hysterically. You remembered how it was so easy. Back then, there were no worries or complications. It was only you and him. No one got in the way between you.

Friends stick together. . .

The words swirled in your head as you finished the last problem for math. After all these years, you were still able to stay friends. Sure, you guys had your little friendship bumps along the road, but you always managed to patch things up.

"(Name)?" Antonio yawned, finishing the homework. "I'll do the rest later, okay? So, what do you want to do now?"

You laughed. It would always end up like this; you'd start on your homework, get bored, and then you two would slack off and just play. You slumped against the tree, thinking thoughtfully.

"I dunno," you mumbled, and then jabbed him in the stomach. "What do you want to play?"

"I don't know," Antonio mimicked you. "What do you wanna play?"

Back and forth, back forth. The same little sentence repeated over and over between you two. Your eyelids fluttered, yawning. You wished time could just freeze, and you prayed to God if your wish could come true. A smile graced your lips as you fantasized about time freezing with Antonio. Just him and you. . .

Picture perfect.

(Page Break)

You were walking through the halls, alone, searching for the new chemistry room. A few days ago, some idiot had mixed together some sort of concoction that was apparently "very dangerous" as the people in white jumpsuits said when they barges into your school. So, the principal moved the chemistry room to the All Purpose Room, a place where you hardly ever ventured to. You peeked through the glass windows inside each wooden door, but you still saw no chemistry class. You passed the old Music Room, where you heard a small, faint, ever-so-light mewl for help. The door's window was covered mysteriously by newspaper. You heard a terrifying Crash!

Grabbing the cold, iron knob, you gently creaked the door open to a minor crack. Goosebumps rose on your (tan/dark/pale/etc.) skin as you took in a sharp, anticipating inhale of oxygen. What you saw was something you clearly didn't expect. . .

"I don't like waiting, Romana~!" a childish but horrifying voice chirped, but the slight edge to it made you realize that he was impatient. "Romana, you promised me, da? You don't have to go through this pain~!" Another crash.

Peeking through the crack with your (eye color) eyes scanning the abandoned Music Room, you saw the broken figure of a dark-haired girl sprawled on the floor, her back against the wall. Ivan stood tall and ominous, dark, violet aura slowly engulfing him. His smile, although you could only see half of it from your angle, was twisted and cracked. You couldn't help but feel terrified of the baby-faced Russian.

He was the incarnation of the devil himself.

Romano opened her dark, chocolate brown eyes, searching around with one last shred of hope. She was still fighting. She would not give up.

Her eyes met yours, where her eyebrows slightly knit together. Sure, you both sort of hated each other, but not to the point where you'd rather see her dead. Or, in this case, beat senselessly by the long ruler that the Russian held in his hands (Obviously, he must have improvised since he left his pick ax and pipe at home). She gave you the slightest nod, knowing you were her only hope.

What will you do?

Will you stop Russia yourself? Or will you get a teacher, who is probably very far away from where you are now?

Meh, short ass chapter, I know. I'm sorry, people. Also, I STRESS that you people have to PRIVATE MESSAGE me about your choice. Why? Because, if you don't, this story (or my whole account) can be deleted. Please, do this for me.

STILL REVIEW THOUGH! I LOVE REVIEWS! THANK YOU~!