HetaOni: Italy's Story

Chapter 6: Clocks and Memories

**~Memory Clock~**

"No!" I yell; despair filling me more than I ever believed possible. It feels as if this is all just some horrible nightmare. Please, please let me wake up. God, please!

*Mio Dio, NO! Not this loop! This loop... It's loop... number One... The first loop... Germany and Prussia just died. I was furious. I was devastated. I... didn't know what to feel or do...*

I have the fucking key! I have it and they all die?! How could they leave me?! How dare they leave me?! Didn't they promise to protect me?! How can they do that when they're all DEAD?! I'm pissed—at myself, at that fucking Thing, at everything.

I somehow find myself in the kitchen area—by the couches. "Germany..." I sniffle. An unexplainable rage overcomes me, as I flip the couch over, cutting it with my blade in a wide, sloppy arc. I don't care, though. What's there to care about? Everyone I love is dead. There's nothing for me.

Smash! I punch the TV. That's much more satisfying. Blood trickles down my arm from my knuckles, but I don't care. The physical pain helps dull the emotional pain. I dash over to the cabinet, and smash all of the plates, bowls, glasses, everything that's breakable I break. I reach for another plate, bowl, something, but grab nothing.

"It's all gone. Like my friends..." Another wave of sorrow and pain hits me, as I sink down to the floor. I don't care that the shards of glass and ceramic are embedding themselves into my knees and palms. This kind of shallow pain is nothing compared to what I feel now. I start punching the shards of ceramic and glass into the floor—and my knuckles. I deserve the pain! I deserve the hurt! I should die! I let my friends die! Just like I let Holy Rome die! I did nothing to help them! I ran away! A coward like me doesn't deserve to live! I'll only cause more death!

Suddenly, the Thing bursts into the room and I stop mid-punch. Panic overcomes me, and centuries of instinct takes over. I dash around it, and hang a right. I slam the library door shut behind me, and lock it tight.

Why?! Why am I too afraid to die?! It was my cowardice that killed my friends, and now that same cowardice keeps me from joining them! I'm pathetic! I sob and cry and I can't avenge them, I can't even die to apologize to them!

From the depths of my sorrow, comes fierce rage and frustration. I start knocking over bookshelves, and ripping pages out of books. I don't care what it is—if I can get my hands on it, I'll break it. I'll break it like that Thing broke me. I pick up a small bible. I'm about to mindlessly rip the pages from this book, too, when the Thing knocks down the door.

"VE?! But–! I-it couldn't do that before!?" Once again, instinct takes over and I dash out of the library. I don't care where I go, but I just want to get away from here. There are too many memories... Too much pain...

Before I realize it, I'm pelted by icy rain and frigid wind. The sound of the front door slamming shut behind me causes me to open my eyes. I stare blankly before me in disbelief. At first, I'm overcome with relief. If I got out, then this must be a dream! They aren't dead! But as the icy winds bite at my bleeding knuckles and knees, I realize that it is real.

"I... got out. I'm the only one who survived, the only one who got out..." I take a few steps forward. Letting the icy rain mix with my hot tears. The puddles around my feet bleed crimson as the rain attempts to wash the blood from my hair, skin, and uniform. But the rain is the farthest thing from my mind.