Split Personality

Time Travel, An Interesting Form of Death

EMOTION TIME!!!!

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Britain's POV:

"Why do you have this." I ask. "That's the part where I feel like you will hurt me." He says. "We won't if you give a good explanation." I say. He takes a few deep breaths. "Ok, follow me." He says.

We follow him to the magic section. Books that were made by flags throughout time trying to understand how it works and holding the instructions for the hundreds of spells that exist. He points up to the top of the shelf. "Do you see that empty spot?" He asks.

"Yes, That was a book with very powerful spells. It went missing during the chaos of the war though." I say. "Wait. No!" England says. I look at Third. He was looking at the ground. "You didn't. Did you?" I ask. "I stole it." He said, his voice filled with guilt and fear.

"That book held extremely high level powerful spells. You can't do magic so why did you steal it?" I ask. "The correct words are I can't do magic any more." He says. "Oh god." I say quietly. "I'm sorry." He said. His voice was wobbly and it was clear that he was on the verge of tears.

I teleport all of us to the living room. Third, without thought, grabbed a pillow and started to hug it. His pink eyes became glossy by the tears he was so desperately trying to hold back.

"What did you do?" I ask calmly and softly. "I tried to fix it! I tried to make it so I never existed! Look at how that turned out!" He said. "What spell did you try to do?" I ask. "A non paradox time changing spell." He mumbled. "Dear lord in heaven!" England exclaimed

"Do you think we were ok with what was going on?! Do you think we were ok with his plan?! Did you think we were just as horrible as he was?! We knew from the start that something was wrong! We wanted to fix it." He said.

We didn't know how to answer. We did think all of that. He didn't act like he was against anything that was going on. But then again, the more we get to know him the more I feel like he wasn't given a choice to act any different.

"The spell didn't work. Not in the way I wanted it to anyways." He says. "What do you mean?" I ask. "I couldn't control the spell. It kept hopping me through time and I couldn't tell when I was anymore. At one point I went to the future. I saw a flag. I did not recognize them. They were a child and about to be shot. The bullet was out of the chamber and aimed right for his head. I moved the bullet a little to the right so it would miss and was dragged back to the present." He started.

"A few months later I'm in my office working and I hear a gunshot. I go see what was going on and I see my son with a gun pointed to his head. The bullet missed by a little. Going to the right just enough to miss. I ended up punching the man who tried to shoot him and that's when it clicked. I'm the reason it missed." He explained.

We were shocked. This actually happened. This seemed insane. Impossible. "Why didn't you tell us before?" I ask. "You would have thought I was lying." He said. "That is true." I say.

"This is what you were so nervous about? Telling us that this happened?" England asks. Third nods. "The spell broke your internal magic vortex making it so you can never do magic again." I say. "Yep," his eyes change red. "But it makes for a good story. How many people can have this conversation? 'Hay, How come you can't do magic?' 'Oh I broke my magic vortex trying to delete myself from existence but ended up accidentally saving my son's life." He says with a painfully fake smile.

"But what am I complaining about? At least there is a bright side. I saved my son's life. He would be dead if it weren't for me failing." He said, almost completely empty of emotion.

"That's something that's ok to feel both bad and good about. I can see both sides. I understand why you are upset." I say. I stand up and sit next to him. I rub his back in an effort to comfort him.

He twitches a little. I'm not sure what's happening but his eyes keep changing. It's like they're fighting for control. Out of nowhere he let's go of the pillow and hugs me. I'm not sure what to do. He lets go quickly. "I'm sorry." He mumbled. A few stray tears fell down his face.

"No, it's fine. If you need to it's ok. You should in my opinion." I say. As much as this is going to be weird for me, he needs to let this out. He's a can of liquid oxygen. One wrong move and he's going to explode unless you slowly over time relieve the strong pressure until there is almost none left. So as much as he probably doesn't want to, he needs to cry. Cry with someone there to help.

He leans over on my arm. I wrap my arm around him and he does begin to cry. He's being very quiet. The most you would hear is a small gasp for air and a sniffle every once in a while. I just rubbed his back.

I haven't ever seen someone in this kind of situation. It's hell to think about. Imagine actually being him. No wonder he acts so strange. No wonder he does so many strange things. He's trying to distract himself. He doesn't like remembering anything about his life.

After a little while he sits up and wipes his face. The whites of his eye turned a red color from the crying. The actual color of his irises was pink and red. Both were in control of the body!? They can do that?!

Both turn pink. "Thank you." He said. Then he stood up and started to walk away. "Where are you going?" I ask. "Back to work in the library. My breakdown didn't change plans did it?" He asked. "No, you go back to the library. We will meet you up there in a moment." I say. He runs off.

"Well that was certainly something." England said. "I never thought that I would ever feel compelled to comfort him. But here we are." I say. "Why do I have the feeling that things like that are going to keep happening?" My brother asked. "Most likely because they will." I answer. 

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Hope you enjoyed! It only gets better from here! comment as always! 

anyways, toodaloo, 

-Grilly