Deafening Silence

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[CANADA 1ST PERSON POV]

I felt my heart stop.

What?

No.

He's joking.

There's no way —

Yet, there he was.

His quiet, restful face, and long eyelashes.

His hair was tousled, and his clothes were rough and bloodstained, face pale, skinny.

Nothing.

No sound.

No movement.

No reassurance.

It was all blood.

Dark, red color, seeping into the cracks in the concrete.

I couldn't move.

I couldn't blink.

It was just all too surreal.

.....

"Canada, are you okay?" Russia sat down next to me, putting a gentle hand onto mine, his face contorted with worry.

"NO! Weren't you there?" I cried. "My brother could be dead because of me!"

"Because of you? Nonsense! He could've died without you," Russia faced me with a look of determination. "None. None of this is your fault, okay? If America was awake, he'd definitely be grateful for you helping him."

Canada took a shaky breath.

"I hope you're right."

[Hospital, 1 day later]

How did he even get back?

How is he still breathing?

Russia's here, too.

The panic was too much.

"C — can I go to the bathroom?" I mumbled to my mother, forcing the words past the claws closing around my throat.

"Yeah." She answered, staring blankly at nothing.

I rushed to the bathroom, I couldn't handle this anymore.

I slammed the lock shut, choking on air as the lights got dimmer.

Tears flared, and everything suddenly felt too loud.

Breathe, breathe, breathe, breathebreathebreathebreathebreathebreathe—

Thoughts swirled, and everything was suddenly too bright.

The tiniest noise was like nails on chalkboard l and everything was flaring.

The air was lessening, and tears were coming quick and fast.

There— there's nothing— there's nothing I can do— I—

CLANK!

BANG!

Fuck.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck, what do I do?

I tried to stand up, but I was shaking too hard.

I crawled over to the sink, splashing water on my face frantically.

CLANG!

CLANG!

CLANG!

BANG!

CLACK!

I stumbled, rubbing my eyes, opening the door quickly to no one there.

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