(Russia x America) part 8

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Note: This chapter will be written from America's P.O.V. instead of Russia's.

All I cared about was being great. That's all I wanted. Being great meant being noticed, and the only way I knew how to achieve that was to speak. My idea's, my opinion's; I wanted everyone to know that I wasn't a spoiled brat England raised. I wanted them to think I was a country that they could be proud of.

I had no idea that it would push those I deeply admired so far out of my reach. I became so obsessed with the desire to be noticed that I had forgotten how to shut my big fat mouth.

The leader of the Allies, a superpower, I was so great and now I can't even get off the floor.

Trembling with anxiety I pushed myself up and forced my legs to stand. I clung to the wall tripping over my own two feet. I must look so pathetic, when have I ever been a hero? I'm a lame ass loser who can't do anything without relying on others.

Holding my breath I walked towards the front door and then tried to breathe slowly. I zipped up my coat, managed to tie my boots tightly, and put on that stupid hat Russia made me wear. Clutching the door knob tightly I slowly opened the door and a strong gust of wind pushed me back. Putting my hands up in defense I ventured out in the frozen wasteland that trapped me with that demonic country.

Seeing that smile always on his face never showing his other side to others, that's what I always despised about Russia. Even when he's angry he's always smiling silently and laughing at me. It's as if I was a fool in his eyes always mocking me with that unwavering grin.

"Ugh"!!

The wind was ruthless, it was like needles stinging every single nerve in your face. I never understood why it could be so cold here in Russia's home. It can be calm and then at other times it can be deadly.

The snow was deep. I thought I was going to fall through. My legs sunk into the snow up to the top of my knees. Maneuvering was rigorous and freezing to the bone. It felt as if my limbs could give out at any second.

I admit I never liked Russia, but still there are things I need to clear. My stubborn will won't let me decide unless that big boned vodka lover hears what I have to say.

"Uahh"!? My knees buckled and I fell face first into the snow.

God dammit it's cold! The blistering wind swirled around me forcing me to stand my ground. Small shards of ice splintered my eyes and the frost bit at my nose.

Where the hell are you? Stupid Russia! Making me go out in this freezing shit weather! If you had problems with what everyone thought of you then why didn't you tell anyone? You have two sisters, you have siblings that'll listen to you, why not talk to them? You have a freaking voice!

You have a voice you moron. You're the one that can say how you feel and yet you choose not to? Why? It's so stupid, so stupid.

No one could ever hear me. Not even when I did have my voice. They thought I was annoying and useless, just a noisy stupid brat, but I'm not. I'm not a fool... I'm not a fool... I'm not a fool...

I trembled from the cold and gripped my chest tightly as I slowly tried to breath in the frigid air. Burying my face into the collar of my coat, I roughly coughed, trying to keep the snow from piling up in the back of my hood.

I'm not gonna die here. I'm not gonna get buried in this frozen shit land! I placed my right foot forward, but all my joints were locked.

Please, let this damaged form of mine work. Just once let me call out to him. I took in a deep breath, cleared my throat as best I could, and let out all my broken body could take.

"AAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! Ugh-!?",
I brought my frozen hands quickly to my face and I suddenly couldn't stop coughing, "*cough*! *cough*!! *cough*!! Ack-!!! ...ugh..."!?

When I finally stopped my body froze as I gazed downwards. My whole body shivered with so much fear as blood slowly dropped from my chin. I knew then, staring wide eyed into the blood stained snow that I had one final choice and the only thing I could do was accept it; my inevitable truth.

My hands were soaked in my own blood. It was suffocating watching my body crumble as if it wasn't my own anymore. I stumbled to my feet gripping my side tightly, trying to stand.

I'm not done here yet. I still have things to do. Whether I have a voice or not there are still things I want to say. Because even though I'm struggling in this decrepit body there are so many things I've realized while trapped in this form. A hero doesn't give up as pathetically as this!

"Uwah-"!?

Tripping over my own feet I heard a crack in my right foot and then not long after pain pulsed through my right leg. I couldn't catch myself in time, I tumbled down a steep hill and the snow isn't always as soft as it looks. There were branches from withered trees and rocks from the crumbling earth that hid themselves beneath the white frost.

The first tumble I had pulled a joint in my right ankle that shattered the bone connecting to my foot. The second tumble a thick branch stabbed me in the back without piercing through the skin. The third tumble consisted of multiple abrasions to the head, shoulders, knees, and chest. Finally during the last tumble a sharp rock had torn through my winter coat and shredded my lower abdomen, just above the left side of my pelvis. I stopped short hitting my back hard against the bottom trunk of a tree.

"Ngh..."

When I had finally reached the bottom I tried my best to move anything, but the only thing I could do was twitch my fingers. I could barely keep my eyes open and my world began to quickly spin. As I laid there mixing with the snow I struggled to gather myself.

What was Russia so scared of? What could be his reason for pushing everything away? I've tried to understand him, but whenever I thought about it all I could feel was this overwhelming resentment. I wonder if he tried to do the same?

Is it really possible to be so frightened of ones presence that you isolate yourself from them? Even if you truly admired them you'd still end up hurting them in the end?

"Uh"!?

My eyelids were so heavy, but when my mind suddenly began to dream of him my eyes burst open and my tears overflowed from the corners. I saw visions of that day blurred in the far off distance of the snow. It was raining and it was the first time I had ever looked down upon that person. He became a broken man because of me; because I was scared.

I swallowed the blood clumping in my throat as I began to sob. I closed my eyes again trying to hold my unsteady breath still.

England... I'm so scared...

~To Be Continued...

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