Death. What is death? The pointless end to a even more pointless life? The end to a beginning that never began? The end to a life so long death himself felt it was finally time to end it?
Alfred, he was never scared of death. No, he was waiting for his time. He even wished for its arrival after the other nations decided he was scum of the Earth. That's fine. If they feel better about themselves by dragging someone else down then why stop them? Alfred wasn't gonna deny that satisfaction to these people. These nations.
Though, at some point. The words became too much. The hate became to much and the blade was drawn. A new cut for every new insult. Cut. Cut. Cut.
It. Felt. Great.
Freedom, of which Alfred always so desperately craved was back. It was back with the blood as it dripped on the floor. Freedom was back.
But then, that wasn't enough either. He still felt the words on his skin. Burning a hole into his very being. He needed more. More. More.
So, he started skipping meals. The emptyness inside reminding him he is truly alone. It was a double edged sword. He would be good enough for them. He would no longer be a fatass. Then, he could also get that freedom he so hopelessly craves.
Now, he sits in the bathtub watching the world spin as blood poured from his slit wrists, filling the originally clean warm water with cold dark blood. The world is like rippling watercolors on a blank page and it's beautiful. The most beautiful painting and only he will see it.
His thin arms bleed quickly. The scars on his wrists are already wanting to burst and bleed again. His body, a thin layer of skin away from a skeleton, grew number. Starting at the edge of his toes and spreading.
He felt the disarray of his people. The screaming well of voices that mix into a poopy brown color that no one wants to look at. They are tearing him apart. He can feel it. Then, theres the ones that deny being American. They will claim to be anything but American.He is dying.
He is going to die for real this time. The blood will drain from his body and all that will be left is the blood in the water.
Alfred was never afraid of death. He knew when it was his time, it was his time. So, when the world told him it was time. He didn't shudder or shy away. He prepared for the enevadability of his death. A death that was long coming. Death many of his human friends have already met. How they will be shocked to find him in the afterlife.
He is ready for death. He will not be leaving anyone behind. Ig- Arthur will be happy he's gone. He never loved him in the first place. He was just a playing chip that the brit used and was mad when he decided to leave so early. Francis, well he only cared for Mattie anyway. He was always so selfish with his things. He hated when England took Canada away.
Mattie. Matthew. He might feel a twinge at his death but deep down he will know it's for the better because he will finally get noticed. He will finally be seen for who he truly is. A wonderful person and nation who doesn't receive the recognition he deserves.
Yes, no one would miss him so death was easier. He could never truly die peacefully if he still felt someone cared. No, his heart was to big for that. Now, he knew for sure he was alone.
The world finally started fading, the watercolors dulled as black started to loom. He smiled. He smiled for the first time in decades. A real smile. Death would great him at the door like an old friend. He could feel it.
Just before the world truly faded he thought of everyone he once had. The hope his country once held. That was a load of bull now.
Suddenly, the door bursts open and in rushes someone familiar. Alfred smiles as he recognizes his longtime crush. Russia. He wasn't wearing his traditional coat. His scarf and a sweater fit him just fine.
He looked at the American with horror and Alfred just smiles. He picks the American out of the bath and tries to stop the bleeding. He starts crying and screaming. Begging his Sunflower not to go. He is too late and the American flutters his eyes closed for the last time. His body follows suit fading in the Russian's arms only leaving a note and blood behind.
A/N- I wrote this after a particularly sad day and finished it days after. I also felt like questioning my life when I finished. Your welcome. This is lightly edited in the fact I read it over once...
Au revoir~
أنت تقرأ
The America/Hetalia one-shot book no one needed nor wanted
قصص الهواةMight rename it, my book of mistakes. Because many of these are mistakes. I think it's pretty evident. But, mostly I torture America/Alfred in any way I see fit that doesn't spoil my other stories too much and maybe throw in the other countries into...
