Chapter Twenty-Five- Tie My Loose Ends

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Charlotte (Charlie, Lottie)

May 25th

One Year Later...

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"Happy Birthday!"

I jump at the sudden light, the sudden noise, then suck in a quick breath, and feign a smile. Everyone's here, in our home, balloons and streamers decorating every corner. I've never been thrown a surprise party before- It's weird. Everyone's staring at me expectantly, am I supposed to do something?

"Thanks guys", I smile sweetly, tilting my head a bit to add to the charm. 

I wish I could say I had fun, but the day went by just like every other birthday party. Except, it was a bit lonesome. Papa was upstairs, unable to handle Arthur's company, and Matthew- he didn't even show. 

The highlight of my day was when Ivan came by to wish me happy birthday, and snuck me a bottle of vodka. 

"You're seventeen now", He said through his thick accent, a proud smile playing on his lips. "An adult now. Drink responsibly!"

I smile at the memory, and cross my legs as I sit. The girls decided to have a meeting in my room- and by girls, I mean Katyusha and Elizabeta. I'm not sure where the rest were- probably downstairs enjoying the desserts I made. Hopefully. 

They're talking to me, I know they are, but it feels like an out-of-body experience. I answer them, but I'm not entirely sure what words are escaping my lips. They seem content though, and start to chatter amongst themselves. 

I check my phone for the fifteenth time today. I know what I'm expecting, I just don't dare make myself realize that it won't happen. I'd like to cling to childish hope for a little while longer, at least until the clock strikes midnight. Quickly, I switch my ringer on, and shove my phone back in my pocket.

The case brushes against the fresh scars on my thighs, and I grit my teeth to mask the pain. 

After the whole ordeal with Matthew, and Papa being more absent than usual, I picked up a bad habit- a dangerous addiction. I don't do it every night- I don't do it as a chance to play with fate. I'm not suicidal. 

I just like the feeling of pain better than numbness. 

Tonight only feeds the urge. Papa hasn't even come down to wish me happy birthday, Matthew hasn't even texted, and nobody but these two has noticed I retreated to my room. I'm not angry. I just feel a bit isolated from the rest. It's always been that way, really. It's as if there's something different about all these people that separates me from them, regardless of age. It's like there's something different about me.

Suddenly, Katyusha and Elizabeta are headed towards the door, waving and speaking to me. All I hear is muffled voices, but I respond anyhow, and when they're content with the conversation, they amble back downstairs. 

I sigh heavily, and throw myself onto the bed, trying to sink into the mattress. I contemplate visiting Papa, but I should know better by now. The past year, I've done my very best to cheer him up, but I know the smile he gives me is fake. I don't want to push him past his breaking point- he's stressed enough trying to get over Arthur. 

I remember seeing Arthur only once today, through the crowd. He pushed through, wished me Happy Birthday, but it seemed as if he was looking past me. I don't mind. I know who he was looking for. 

Still, I wish they'd just make up. 

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France (Francis)

France's Daughter // HetaliaWaar verhalen tot leven komen. Ontdek het nu