Oh Canada...

.:|Chapter 7 - Canada, that's enough|:.

Canada's pov.

Father let me sleep in his room again, I am not sure how to feel about the arrangement. America and Australia are probably worried about me, I haven't seen either but I have heard them in the house. My head is so sore from the constant loud noises during my punishment, I can't even think properly. I feel Father's arms wrap around my torso, he pulls me closer.
"Mm- P-Papa... please let go." I whisper, I don't want him close to me. Not after his actions of locking me in his side room.
"Shh, French-Canada. Go to sleep." He mutters back, more like an order then a suggestion.

I die a little on the inside and let him cuddle me. I don't dare to move as that could wake him. I feel his breath on the back of my neck and the palms of his hands on my stomach. He is super close now, my back is pressed against his stomach. I let out a shaky breath, I don't think I'll be able to sleep.
"Mmm, French-Canada stop that, I'm trying to sleep." Father mutters again, this time his nails digging into the skin of my stomach.
"I-... Sorry papa... Sorry." I mumble out and I feel his hands return back to their original placement.

I try to think of anything else but my mind is empty. I hear his breath slow slightly as he falls asleep, leaving me alone in consciousness. I look at the curtains over the window, they look gold and silky to touch. I want to reach out and let the soft fabric flow between my fingers. I would if my arms weren't pinned to my sides. I hope America and Australia are okay, I assume they are. I wonder what China and his group are doing, it's not like it matters. I doubt I'll see them again. Father didn't take the names to well when America told him.

I could feel my blood gushing in my ears. He was to close, I want space, no I need space. The air feels thick like I can't breath so I push myself away from him. I fall to the ground with a thump. Luckily for me he is still asleep, I shakily get up and walk over to the door. I can't stay here much longer, I'm sure America and Australia will be fine on their own. I'll go to Mother's, she wanted me over for the holidays anyways. I turn the handle but it turns stiff. He- He locked it?
"What are you doing over there?" His voice echoes around the room, I didn't even hear him stir.

"N-Nothing Papa-" I mutter softly as I turn to face him, my hand still jiggling the handle as if my brain couldn't accept it was locked.
"You were going to run away weren't you?" Britain replied in an annoyed tone. He stood up and walked over to me near the door, my whole body was shaking. How does he know everything!? I felt him pull me closer to him, my back against his chest. I feel his arms wrap around me as if he wanted a hug, instead he starts choking me in a choke hold. I gasp for air as his arm presses against my neck, please please, I don't want to die. I punch and kick the door, trying to get Ame or Aussie's attention.
"Stop struggling French-Canada! That's enough. I knew you'd do something like this, so I locked the door." He says in an authoritative manner.

It's the one thing that impressed yet scared me about my father, his power to keep collected at any given moment. I grip his arm tight an yank it away from my neck, just long enough to catch some air back into my lungs. I feel myself being thrown to the floor, I wince at the pain in my knees now, they're so sore.
"P-Papa—" I gasp out as I suck in as much air as I can get. Britain stares at me for a moment, a moment of disgust, a moment of hate, a moment of regret.
"You are to stay in here until I get back, I'll be locking the door. You better get some sleep." Britain said before disappearing into the hallway. I hear a click, meaning the door is re-locked.

I pant for a few minutes, did he just try and kill me? His own sun? He put so much pressure on me to be his heir and yet now he is trying to kill me. What if he choose one of the others to be his heir, I took it so the others wouldn't get hurt. It's some of the most painful training sessions father can do. He already made it clear that Nee Zealand wasn't going to be it since she, is well... a she. It's sexist sure but if it keeps her safe I'll hold my tongue. Aussie could be it, but it was a doubt since they didn't get along very well. Aussie was a little rowdy compared to the rest of us. My eyes widened and I felt my heart stop. Oh god Ame. I felt my fist clench against my chest, if he even laid a hand on Ame I'd- I'd-

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China's pov.

It was late, around 9:30pm or 21:30. I had finished my homework for the night, my mother had made me stew and my father was still away on a trip. The house was quiet, it was nice. I sat at my desk with the lamp on, the rest of my room covered in darkness. I dug around in my draw for my needle, thread, fabric, buttons and of course the doll. I had started this doll at the start of this week, when I found my next victim. We had known each other for some time before this week, I believe we met as kids. We went to the same schools, same clubs and even the same restaurants. He had caught my interest recently when I noticed how little people paid attention to him.

The only ones who ever seemed to know he was there was his brothers, brothers that couldn't be around all the time. It was in the absence of his brothers I found an interesting crack in his self defence, he was easy to intimidate. So easy in fact I managed to convince him to join us at the mall. Soon this poor boy will be a hollow husk, a husk that won't object to anything. A husk he could sell, but I only sell the body. The soul is mine. To trick the soul into possessing the doll was quite simple, make the doll look like the body. I gently sew the first of two black buttons on for eyes, when the soul enters the buttons will change colour. Perhaps they'll go a Ruby red to match that flag of his, or maybe a soft misty blue to show how lonely he once was.

Don't worry my darling Canada, you won't me lonely once you're in your new doll. I'll be here for you always, and it's not like you won't be able to feel what they do to your husk. You'll feel everything, you better pray someone nice buys you. I see a small doll sitting next to my foot, they like to crawl around when I'm not looking. I always sew a friendly smile on them, yet somehow this one is frowning. Did this soul really have that much power to move the stitches? I pick the doll up and put it under the light, I pluck the stitches for the smile out. You can tell it's agony for the doll, the way they squirm and wiggle. My dolls cannot make noises though, I am grateful for that image the screaming, it'd be a nightmare.

I stitch a happy little smile on, two or three stitches usually. The dolls can speak to you if you are willing to listen, this one has red thread holding the buttons on, it means it's mad. The colour changes and each colour could mean a different thing for every doll. Red usually means anger though. Blue is sadness, purple is confusion (and is the most common colour just after the soul possesses the doll), yellow is happy (the most rare colour) and green, green is despair. Green is the most common among my older dolls, the ones that have completely given up.
"What are you doing little one? Frowning like that." I say as I sit it against a book."

It of course cannot reply so just watches as I sew a small Canada. I was just sewing the maple leaf on now. Then it would be ready, however this is a process you can't rush. It the real Canada wasn't willing to give up his soul then the doll would be useless. It was a tender art this type of doll making, although something tells me to keep Canada's husk for myself. Five dollar would be a free maid around the house, he would do whatever I said. A crazed smile runs across my face as I imagine the complete and utter torture I could put him through. There was always an issue though, North Korea. He was the last person I picked to steal, yet he somehow figured it out. He figured it out and broke the deal. He refused to let me try this again, but he doesn't have to know, does he now Canada~?

.:|1607|:.