His Last Smile

No One

Well, here I am! 

I'm not dead :) 

Please imagine (imagine) that France has a French accent in the story!

I'm sorry, but I just can't imitate it in words...

It's kind of a short chapter compared to the last one, but I wrote it all in one sitting so...

Well, enjoy!

@stillnotfictional

~~

France kept knocking on the door, bye England wasn't responding. He sighed, looking desperately at America. Unfortunately, the said country was in his own world, thinking. 

        "France," Canada called, and his former parent nation looked at him. Thank goodness that at least France can hear me sometimes. "Should we...?" He pointed at the American, and France understood.

        The nation shook America, making the blue-eyed country jump. "What, dude?" he said, irritated. Wait, what? Irritated. Canada thought. Well, that's strange... What he didn't know was that America was irritated at himself, not anyone else. Because he had made England sad. Not mad, or angry--which were the emotions the green-eyed, blond nation used to cover up his loneliness and sadness--but sad.

        "America, do you know like a secret enterance or something? Because we don't have the key..." France asked, and America shook his head no. Canada sighed and leaned against the door, and began playing with the doorknob.

        Suddenly the door opened, making the poor nation fall backwards--the fairies had opened it from the inside--and the inside made France gasp and America's eyes widen.

        It was clean, all right, but it was dusty. England had servants and maids, so there was no way that they would let the house be like this. It looked as if it wasn't used for a while, which was probably the case.

        France helped up the fallen nation (I mean literally fallen, not like 'dead' fallen) and together, the trio ventured into the house.

        All of them knew the house quite well, since France visits--a lot, if I may add--Canada lived here until England granted him freedom, and America, well, since he was the nation's colony until he declared his freedom. 

        No light was on, making the house look sadder and gloomier. There was only occasional sunlight from windows to guide their way in the mansion. 

        There was no sound. No sound of music that England liked, no sound of maids and servants shuffling about, and absolutely no sound from England.

        The trio made their way to England's bedroom. France knocked on the door, but didn't hear any sound from the other side of the door.

        "Angleterre?" France called. Still no sound. "Angleterre?" He called out again, this time more urgently, and frowned. (A/N: Angleterre means "England" in French) England would normally either storm up to the door and tell him to shut up, or would call "go away" or "yeah".

        Still no sound.

        Getting nervous, he pushed the door open gently. It didn't budge. He threw a glance at America, who seemed distraught for some reason. "America, can you open the door sil vous plait?" He asked, and America complied without a word. Weird. Canada thought, but let it pass, since England was the reason they were here.

        America pushed the door open, and it flew open. Their eyes widened simultaneously.

        There was no one, and aboslutely no one, in the room. 

        Dust was gathering everywhere, the bed was well made, and it looked perfect... 

        But no one was there.