14 Days (A Hetalia Story) [WILL BE REWRITTEN]

Finding Out

I finally finished the schedule for the world meeting. It somehow took me longer than usual, probably because I cleaned my whole house before. Now, I can finally have that "date" I wanted. I drove over to Italy's place, waiting for the Italian to burst out through the door as he heard me pull over. So I sat there. Waiting. For like five minutes....is he still preparing? Hell if I know. Maybe he's painting. Maybe maybe maybe.... Something seemed fishy in the air, though. He doesn't suddenly cancel a "date" nor go a day without spamming me calls of apologies. So I went out of the car to check, simply for curiosity...or for safety of the Italian.

"Italy?" I said. Crickets. "ITALY!" More crickets. I got worried. I started parading the property hoping to find him reading or drawing in his backyard. I was met with grass and the night sky. The gate was smashed into itty bitty pieces, making me even more worried than before. I walked by a few chairs, elegantly crafted to perfection. As I walked I heard a splash, coming from under my foot. I looked down. A red substance splattered on the bottom of my boot. Is that blood? I walked further following the path of blood, staring in complete horror and fear. The path lead to a pool of blood, a corpse resting peacefully in its wake. I ran over immediately, to see who's corpse that belong to. I gently turned the face to my vision.

"Italy...? ITALY! NO NO NO NO NO!!!!" I screamed in deep anguish. I cried like my eyes raged against the world. I softly embraced the corpse, refusing to accept reality. Refusing to accept that my best friend was dead.

"No....NOT YET! NO! WHY! WHO DID THIS TO YOU? ITALIAAAAAAAAA!!!" Tears raged down my face like a waterfall, oxygen slowly going away. His cold face rested on my neck, sending shivers through my body. I weaved my fingers through my hair, feeling the thin locks caress my hand.

"Ich....lie....be.....dich..." I gently whispered to him. "I know.....you can't really hear me.....but I wanted you to know that for a while. How do you say it in Italian.....? Is it Ti amo?" Crickets and wind filled the quiet atmosphere.

"Ti amo.....Italy....." I gently said. My cries worsened. I gently placed his corpse in the grass. I felt myself reach for my phone until I stopped myself.

What's the point of calling 911 if he's going to disappear?
I threw my arm in the opposite direction, clutching my chest. I was about to leave, staring at the window fragments that reflected the moon's light. I suddenly saw a violet blossom, it's vibrant colors making it look beautiful. I picked from the ground, studying it's beautiful features and hues.

"Maybe Italy would like this...." A tear landed on one of the petals.

I hate being a country. When we die, we become forgotten unlike regular people. We respawn but we have a number of times to do so. I guess Italy's time ran out. I can't accept that.