Russia looked out the window in the small log cabin he resided in for that weekend. The light snow storm that had been mentioned on the morning news two days ago turned out to be a blizzard, and it hadn't been doing the poor Russian any good. He had no connection with the outside world; No connection with his family or his friends.
The back-up generator had been frozen and wasn't coming back on any time soon. Ivan couldn't step out, for he would freeze as well. The temperature ranged from high negatives, around -50 degrees. It was bad, and with the wind blowing like crazy, it didn't help. The windows of his little cabin had frost all over the glass, and it was leaking into the house.
Ivan kept his expression calm. His eyes were bloodshot from the large amounts of vodka he had been drinking earlier. An empty bottle was in his strong grip. He looked over at the little dining table he had, seeing the sunflowers were wilting away with the cold. He sighed, glancing back at the window.
The wind whistled through the creeks in the wood, creating a marooned feeling in the room. Russia couldn't get out. It was like being smuggled. the heavy blizzard were the many guards lingering around the transportation, keeping him locked inside, with no way of getting out until they left.
But maybe he liked it that way. Away from the world, where he couldn't hear the many quivering voices speaking when they were directed at him. He was away from the people who feared him, the so called "friends" he had made.
'Maybe,' he thought. 'They respect me out of fear... maybe i really am alone.'
His grip on the empty vodka bottle increased, and he turned around quickly and a scream escaped his mouth as he threw the glass against the wall. The moment it hit the wood, it smashed, flying into different directions. "WHY!?" His body was shaking with rage and anger? No, not with that. With sadness. He closed his eyes and turned his head, trying to keep everything in like he always did.
He hugged himself and leaned against the wall, sliding down. "...... YA neplokhoy parenʹ," he mumbled quietly to himself, tears beginning to break out of his eyelids. He may have been one of the toughest, and scariest countries to many, maybe to everyone, but he wasn't as big and bad on the inside. He took off his scarf and held it to his face, keeping in any sound aside from his sniffs, letting the tears flow freely.
"... I'm not a monster," he repeated to himself, over and over again. "I'm not a monster.... I'm not a monster.... I'm not a monster.... YA nemonstr..... YA nemonstr...." After a while, his sniffs stopped and he was alone in the silence.... silence...... Silence?
Russia opened his eyes and looked up to the window, seeing there where little rays of sun light hitting his tearstained cheeks. A small smile found its way onto his crying face. He wasn't the bad guy, he was just... misunderstood. "I will prove them wrong someday. They will see that I do have a light in my heart."
YOU ARE READING
Hetalia One Shots
General FictionThese are a collection of One Shots that I had written in my younger years. They were originally posted on DeviantArt, but I've decided to shut down my account. However, I loved these stories and chose to share them with you all, in hopes you Hetali...
