HE'S A WALKING RED FLAG AND PAPA WEARS ROSE-TINTED GLASSES [CountryHumans]

WHAT THE FUCK PAPA

It was frustrating. It was frustrating as all hell and he was tired of it!

He had always known about his father's obsessions, had always pardoned them, always thought they were normal, lovesick things people do when they're a hopeless romantic. But what the fuck is this?

East had gone ahead and entered their home while Russia stayed behind to finish his smoke. As he was about to throw the cigarette to the floor and stomp out its embers, he heard the back door open and slam before a figure rushed past him. Russia gaped at the man running away, stopping close to the horizon to catch a glimpse of the house before vanishing into thin air.

Russia would say that they locked eyes but he couldn't see his behind those damn sunglasses.

_________

He met the Deutsches Reich when he was a kid. Papa was head over heels the moment he set eyes on him (yes, eyes, plural, he still had two back then). Papa usually invited him over to stay for the weekend and Russia quickly became used to the German's presence.

The Reich was a soft-spoken person but he never ran out of things to say, always brimming with ideas whenever he and papa discussed things that caught their fancy— philosophy, poetry, the world and the universe around them. Whenever they didn't talk, they'd be reading and whenever they weren't reading, Reich would be sound asleep in the guest room with papa bringing him a glass of water and some bread from time to time. Sometimes Russia could hear them singing, rarely he caught them dancing to whatever tune was on the radio.

Russia was almost fond of him then. Reich before the unfortunate (but inevitable) capitalist tragedy was pleasant to be with. The German taught him to read and write. One summer, Reich also taught him how to blow on leaves to make it sound like a flute all the while papa learned how to weave flower crowns with Ukraine beside him, more than happy to learn the craft. Their hair was all covered with petals that day.

When the German economy fell apart for a second time, everything almost came to a grinding halt with it, Reich started visiting less and less. Eventually he stopped and Russia grew up to become a young man without seeing the German again.

He knew papa still had contact with him and he would visit as often as he could. It was for "business", his father told him, but Russia was no longer a child and was aware of the general direction of politics in the tumultuous republic and knew that one misstep would light the fuse to a devastating explosion that would destroy the increasingly fragile state of the country.

___________

Papa didn’t come home for a week. He left on such short notice, leaving everything to Russia. He was confused but he didn’t ask for his father was so pale and panic stricken when he departed. A few days later, he read the news on the paper— of the Reichstag arson and a small house just off the city of Berlin catching fire too, a single casualty. Male. Late 20s. Suffered third degree burns on his torso, neck, and parts of his face. The source of the fire? Perhaps a candle tipped and spread through the house.

There was a picture of the man being pulled out of the burning rubble, the seared flesh rendering him almost unrecognizable. He knew his papa though and even with his back turned it was unmistakable that it was the Soviet Union pulling the man out of the burning rubble.

The next day, a follow up article: the man did not survive the fire.

Soviet came home after that. Russia asked if it was true. Papa sighed.

“He’s dead.”

___________

Lies.

He wasn’t dead. He was just as alive as the last time he saw him, albeit now his face was covered with scars and his eyes were cold and dull iron. He spoke in a harsh tone and spared no pleasantries for anyone apart from a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He was paranoid and quick to anger, explosive, and was more than happy to shirk the blame of all his country’s misfortune to everyone else but him.