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 Aah, Life.. So, So Cruel. [Only for Belarus. I'm making this because I'm too lazy to start the plot.]

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Join date : 2011-09-27
Age : 22

PostSubject: Aah, Life.. So, So Cruel. [Only for Belarus. I'm making this because I'm too lazy to start the plot.]   Thu Feb 23, 2012 8:10 pm

Nothing. Nothing mattered anymore.
Russia stood at his doorstep, a cold bout of air brushing past his face. He was going away. He had not suitcases, no bags.. nothing. He was never going to come back.
What was there to live for anymore? What could he do? Stare out his window and watch the last scrap of love that ever clung to him melt into the blizzard, hand-and-hand with a former underling? It was simply absurd. It was a waste of hope.

Why did he let this happen? He was selfish. Selfish because he wanted a good life. Now he'd given up on trying to hate, trying to love.. She was gone. Belarus had left him, and she, of all people on the face of the earth, had moved on and started fresh.
He had been loved once.. He had loved. The fate of his parents whom he'd known for such little time had traumatized him, chewing up his once carefree childhood and spitting it out onto cold ground. Though he had been broken ever since the event, he hadn't realized that he was still cared for, whether it had been in a twisted sort of way or not. He's chosen to ignore it and push it away, and this was what he deserved.
Taking a step into the snow, Ivan grasped the brass handle of his front door and shut it for the last time.

"Last chance for boarding!"
Ivan got up into the plane and found an empty seat. People filed in after him, the floor of the plane shaking with the movement. An announcement sounded telling everyone to buckle up, and the aircraft began to move.
As the plane lofted into the air, attendants came, flitting around the room and swiftly taking people's orders for food. When a stout attendant woman came to Russia, she blinked in surprise. "M-Mr. Russia! Whatever are you doing here?"
Ivan stared forward and focused on something unseen. "Going away."
"Where will you be going?"
The woman raised an eyebrow. "But where about-"
"I said nowhere," he nearly snapped.
The attendant adjusted one of the buttons on her uniform, looking uncomfortable. "T-terribly sorry, sir.. Anyhow. We will stop in Magadan in about six hours. Is that alright with you?"
Russia smiled, though it didn't feel true. "Just fine." The attendant nodded and skittered over to the next person. Russia let his face fall against the window, not minding the vibrations of the engines outside.

After the second hour came and went, Russia's eyelids grew heavy, and he felt himself nod off.
Dreams came for the time he slept, and he wasn't sure if they were good or not.
Russia was sitting in a little forest on a log, and snow dusted the ground lightly. Belarus sat a little ways away from him. Why does Belarus have to be in my dream?
A fire was dancing in front of them, and the light illuminated their faces. Russia was not in control of his movement, but he simply watched, invisible to his dream-self, from a small distance away from the scene.
He noticed Belarus was shivering, and Russia had been looking into the fire. It seemed he was trying to avoid her gaze. A wind kicked up, and a blast of freezing air buffeted the scene. Belarus curled into a ball, teeth chattering. Finally, Russia's dream self murmured, "Alright.. C-come here."
The slender woman shuffled close to him and he took her in one arm. As the wind blew, Belarus snuggled closer to Russia, and he looked as if he were trying to refrain from crying like a child.
As a while passed, Belarus closed her eyes and fell onto Russia's lap. The Slavonic nation nearly jumped, but seemed to force himself to settle. What Russia's dream self did next surprised him even more. He gently set his hand on Belarus' head and stroked her hair. His thoughts echoed all around the dream world:
Even if this doesn't last, I should relish it..

"Sir.. Sir.. Your stop has come. Sir!"
Snapping his eyes open, Russia sat up immediately. "Huh? .. Oh, I'm sorry." standing up he walked straight past the flight attendant and out of the near-empty plane. He strode through the terminal and through the busy airport, oblivious to everything around him. Where was the exit?
There it was, an open door on the right side of the terminal. Shoving past countless Russian citizens, he burst out the door and into the blizzard. He was running now, desperate to get away from the noise and the pain, desperate to die.

Then he stopped.
Dropping to his knees, he stared forward into the blank whiteness. The dream he had hadn't just been a dream, but a memory.. a painful memory. One from long ago.. Something he'd tried so hard to forget. Russia closed his eyes, letting the cold run through his hair and blow it around.
All of it was gone now, and the winter was all he had left.


Ludwig Beilschmidt and Ivan Braginski

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Aah, Life.. So, So Cruel. [Only for Belarus. I'm making this because I'm too lazy to start the plot.]
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