Reincarnation (Hetalia England x OC) SEE DEAR FRANCIS,

Packing

I packed away my clothing, favourite shoes, and whatever else would be needed that I could not pay for once I got to Europe. I finished quickly, filling up my three mismatched suitcases to the brim and more. In the biggest, I hid away three things: a worn leather wallet with a couple hundred dollars, a package of white hair dye, and, finally, a small container holding icy blue, prescription contacts and my other, normal contacts. 

Just as I zipped up the last pocket, I heard the whispering. The words that sounded like they were hissed through clenched teeth. The words I had yet to hear clearly.

I dropped to my knees right then and there, my bags on my bed. My hands covered my ears, and my eyes clenched shut tightly enough to give me a headache. Inside my mind, I begged the voices to go away, but, at the same time, I wished for the them to stay. I knew that, if they were gone, my other medium powers would be as well.

And I couldn't live without those.

I stayed like that until the voices stopped, trembling ever so slightly. Afterwards, I stood up carefully and slowly, still shaken by the voices. I couldn't help but think of how the voices sounded like they were whispering to me the way I would die. I felt a shiver rack my body once more, my arms wrapping around myself, before I shook it away, letting go.

I grabbed a suitcase and dragged it off of the bed, letting it thump loudly on the carpeted floor of my bedroom. I did this twice more, not caring when my father yelled at me from downstairs because of the sound. When I thought of him and the 'trip' I'd be going on, I sighed in relief.

No more acting. I could finally be myself once I got there.

I flopped onto my bed, not caring that I was still wearing my clothes and my alarm clock having been set earlier. I curled into a tight ball and pulled the blanket over myself, leaving only my right hand, palm up, and head outside of the comforter. As I willed myself to fall into a deep sleep, I imagined the hand of the man who I considered my grandfather and guardian angel holding mine for comfort, although I knew he'd been gone for two weeks now.

As I finally drifted off, my thoughts shifted, for a split second, to one of my few memories from before. 

Yes...

Arthur.