June 18, 1815, Waterloo, Belgium
11:00 am, twenty minutes before the first shot.
~
I can't do this; I can't do this, I can't do this; I can't do this, I can't do this; I can't do this, I can't do this; I can't do this, I can't do this; I can't do this, I can't do this; I can't do this, I can't do this; I can't do this.
I was pacing around my tent as I saw the allies. I knew they were in the forest but did not say anything to anyone. I was sabotaging myself. Maybe they will kill me quickly? Maybe I won't notice that I'm dead.
God, now I don't know if I should repent for my sins. The sins for murder against the innocent, and Holy Rome, and the sins for my indecent feelings toward England. What happens to us when we die? I wonder if there is a special place in hell for people like us. I deserve to go to that particular place.
Those damned Allies were going to attack any second, and I wasn't sure what I should do first. Napoleon has instructed soldiers, but if they go through with it, I will see the death of my people yet again.
No! I needed to lessen the blow. For me, at least!
But to do that...
"God, I hate myself," I spoke. I stopped pacing and looked around me. I began to gather myself, shaking my head, annoyed. "I need to find Mr.England..." I whispered. I had not seen or talked to him since that night. He will be angry at me.
For letting the war continue for this long. I could tell the future...it wasn't pretty.
I left my tent slowly, looking around. I saw him and some of his men a few yards into the nearby forest. I know for sure they were planning to attack us any minute. I needed to talk to him. I turned my back to the camp and started walking toward the forest, when suddenly...
"Mr. France! Commander Napoleon requests your presence," someone spoke. I breathed out, defeated, turning around. "Great, I will be there soon," I spoke. The soldier ran off, and I felt myself breathing out, annoyed. Maybe that is a sign that I should not see England. I was not sure what I would say to him anyway.
I began to walk toward Napoleon's tent, mentally preparing myself for something he was about to say. I could not think of anything else; I wanted England. I treated him terribly, and I always have.
England...I am sorry...
"Ah, I was eager for your presence...I wanted to discuss today's soon-to-be attack. I trust that you won't hold back. It seems that your other nation friends have been eager to see your downfall..."
"They aren't my friends..." I spoke. It was true.
"That is what I love to hear! I know they make you soft sometimes; it is wonderful knowing that you do not care for that relationship with them. I need you to stay focused today; if I were to be hurt, it would give them enough of a chance to take me down; I need you to swear that you will protect my life with your every move!" He demanded. He looked at me seriously, and all I could do was nod in agreement.
"I have trained you well. I knew by the look of that treaty a couple of years ago it would backfire," he spoke. He was eating his food, and I felt angry.
Trained? Like a dog?
Was I a dog to him?
"What? Do you mean?" I asked.
"Ah! that Treaty with England...I am the main reason why it ended..."
"What? England declared war on us..."
I looked at him, confused, and he smiled at me. What was he talking about? "Ah, yes, about that...I planned that!" he cheered. He stood up from his seat and began to walk toward me. "I could tell you were having second thoughts about everything, and I knew you would not fight him, but the tension was too good not to manipulate. Showing you dislike toward England, Spain overhearing how the treaty would not last long, causing him to bring it up at dinner, then the uncertainty of trusting me...it was all me manipulating everything, so you would go to England...go to him, and tell him you want him to declare war on us..."
My eyes widened...
He came to me, placing an arm around me. He managed to manipulate me...like I was an easy fool. Were any of my thoughts truly mine? Or was he manipulating me to think a certain way?
"How did you..."
"Anyone could see you are in love with THAT nation...it was an obstacle I needed to get through, so manipulation was needed."
"What? I am NOT in love with-"
"Oh please...you make it so obvious, and it was a weakness...he was manipulating you too, and I was here to save you. I was saving you from him, and I am saving you now. I expect a good fight today and no screw-ups!" He cheered. I had a hard time processing everything.
I couldn't be in love with him! We are nations! We don't have feelings like that. Sure, we had affection toward each other and kissed maybe three times...but that was it. It was physically impossible for people like us to feel that way. Having affection is different from being in love. "I can tell by your face you are having a hard time processing this, you may leave to compose yourself, but I expect a fresh attitude later!" he cheered.
"Wha-"
"THE ENGLISH! THEY ARE HERE!"
Screams erupted, and gunfire began to be heard from where we were standing. "Go!" He demanded. I nodded at him seriously, quickly leaving the tent. This is not good! I did not realize that I would attack this soon. I only had a sword on me.
"FRAAAAAAANNNNNCCCCCEE!"
My eyes widened upon hearing the sound, and I quickly withdrew my sword. I could nearly feel my hands sweating as I was lucky enough to stop the sword from impaling me. "I've found you!" He declared. England pushed his sword down on me, and I backed away. I needed to stall him; he could not know that Napoleon was in the tent behind me.
"Ah, seems so!" I laughed. I looked around, seeing that many men were fighting against ours. We were outnumbered; it was a matter of time. They were all instructed to push through, so I am sure the soldiers will stick to the plan Napoleon gave them.
"Ah, but can you catch me?" I asked. He looked at me, confused, and I pushed him off me, starting to run away from the tent. I did not see the rest of the allies, so I was sure they were on different fronts fighting. Judging by some of the uniforms, Netherlands was here, as expected.
"Huh? WHY ARE YOU RUNNING?!"
He began to chase me, and I could not help but laugh. I shouldn't, but seeing him flabbergasted like that was a little funny. I was leading him away from everyone; maybe I could talk to him.
I stopped running when we were a distance away from everyone, and as soon as I did, he began to attack me. "Why are you trying to run away from me?" he asked. He began hitting me with all he had, and I blocked him. "I needed to, so I could be alone with you!"
"Huh? I doubt that! You have refused to stop fighting, and I have had enough of it! I am ending this today, and you will be taken down! So will your hold on Europe!"
"Trust me; no one wants that more than me..."
We continued to fight as I laughed, and he looked confused. "Why are you laughing? What is wrong with you?" he asked, confused. I think deep down, the reason why I was laughing was because of all of this. What Napoleon told me, and this war. I can't believe I really was that easy to control.
"Because! this whole war is pointless, and I have wasted years fighting you for the wrong reasons! I don't care if I lose anymore. I let people manipulate me, and I am unsure whether my thoughts are my own."
I think I was losing my mind; all of this was pointless.
England stopped fighting me and watched me horrified as I started to laugh at my misery. "God, what has happened to you? You have gone mad," he spoke, horrified. "My dear, I have gone mad with the realization of my false reality; forgive me...that is all I ask..." I spoke.
The person standing before me...
He has messy hair and overgrown eyebrows, which have put me in a trance. His gaze from his green-colored eyes...like the forest we played in as children. He had all of my soul and more. I have ruined everything. This was all my fault.
I began looking around at the battlefield, hyperventilating as I watched people kill each other.
"No...this is all wrong..."
"France...?"
"Arthur...I am sorry..."
He looked at me, confused for a moment, and lowered his weapon.
"I'll leave you words, Underneath your door, Underneath the singing moon, Near the place where your feet pass by, Hidden in the holes of wintertime, And when you're alone for a moment...I hope you will think of my heart whenever I tell you to be well..."
"Francis..."