The Last Three Days

Prologue

"Ich schau zurück auf eine wunderschöne Zeit; warst die Zuflucht und die Wiege meines Seins." -Unheilig 

                                                                                      

                                                                                

                        February 22, 1947

It’s dark when Prussia gets home.

The sun has long since vanished and the gold, pink, and orange hues that had once set the sky on fire before Prussia entered the meeting have melded into an inky blue. There are no stars out tonight; it’s boggy and overcast, and the air is cold in a way that Prussia has never experienced it before. Inside is just as desolate – the lights are all off, the window shades drawn, and the radio silent. He wonders if Germany turned down the heat to save on money, because the air is bitingly cold, too. How uninviting.

Not bothering with his uniform, he tromps through the house and into the living room. He’s still wearing his boots and he knows Ludwig will have a fit if he finds mud trails on the ground, but he can’t really bring himself to care at this point. My whole body will be covered in mud soon, he thinks, face twisting in a grimace. He isn’t sure what happens to countries when they die; whether they’re buried like normal humans, or vanish in a poof of dust or whatever. It never really occurred to him that countries can die. He’s been living for several hundred years, has seen the rise and fall of many a nation, and has fought in his fair share of battles. But it had never struck him that at any possible moment, he too could die, just like all those men before him.

Prussia collapses onto the couch. The material sinks beneath his weight and he rests his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. He’s feeling stretched beyond his limits. The Allies had all looked so relaxed when discussing his dissolution, and he wonders if they ever really stopped to think about what it would be like if they were in his situation. Probably not. They are narrow-minded fools who care little about anyone but themselves; destroying governments and cultures and murdering a country just because they don’t share the same views as him.

And he still can’t believe they think the Nazis originated their tyrannical rule from him. Ha, what a joke! It must have slipped their minds that when the Nazis came into rule, Prussia lost all his federal power and had been subject to being the puppy-dog that followed his newly-empowered brother around. He was basically just another part of Germany throughout the war, only contributing when his brother managed to talk his boss into allowing him say. Yes, his country is, perhaps, very rigid in structure, militaristic, illiberal, an obstacle to the spread of democracy, and a seemingly perfect place for the Nazis to make base. But that doesn’t mean the Allies have the right to abolish him. He may not be such a great power anymore, but he is still a nation with a long history and the very core of Germany. He doesn’t deserve to be tossed aside like yesterday’s trash.

He’s so frustrated. It’s prejudiced and imprudent to decide so easily on the destruction of another. It’s easier to understand that mere mortals like Churchill, Truman, and Stalin don’t see the significance in destroying an entire nation; they are selfish and human, after all. But for even his fellow personifications to look so unperturbed by the decision… it makes him nauseous just thinking about it.

Dinging the tips of his fingers into his face, Prussia sighs heavily and attempts to block out anymore of the vexing thoughts. He already understands the unfairness of it all but he can’t bring about a change by moping. Actually, he can never bring about a change.