We arrived at Britain's house after about half an hour of driving. I vividly remember my eyelids feeling like weights as I stumbled out of her car and watched her front door, my eyes glazed over with exhaustion. The details all blurred within my mind and I don't recall any emotion other than a sort of numb mourning as I gazed up at the rather beautiful, imposing structure with roses that climbed the Victorian brickwork. I felt as though I wasn't really there, as if I was watching everything happen from afar, as if none of it was real...
"West?" the UK whispered, bending down in front of me and hiding her worry with a soft grin, "You can go inside; the door's open now..." Nodding stiffly, I followed her inside. Normally, I would have found the endless candle-lit stone corridors with their purple velvet carpets stunning and I would've been reminded of a fantasy book from my earlier childhood, but I didn't feel anything at all as I stood in that cavernous hallway, staring upwards and waiting for Britain to unlock the door that stood directly opposite the top of the staircase.
Finally, she beckoned me upwards and I plodded up the opulent stairs, meeting her on the landing. Softly, she explained to me that this was to be my bedroom now, pointing out the bathroom, her bedroom and the library to me. For the first time, my eyes lit up as she the mention of the latter room; I'd barely read anything in what felt like a million years... I adored the smell of books, the intricate yet uniform letters on pages, the heart and soul of authors as they poured their life's dream out onto paper...
"Are you alright? You seem ill..." the UK sighed, once again crouching down to my height. I nodded, blinking rapidly and cursing my lethargic mind. Exhausted and infuriated with myself, I slumped onto my new bed, simply observing Britain as she tidied up the space. I think she might have asked what I thought of the room, but I was too desolate to care by that point. Understanding my silence, she sat down beside me, and just began talking. She told me stories, stories of an age long gone, stories of sailors and explorers and of the old empires, even of my grandparents. By the end, I could feel myself smiling as I watched her speak, entranced by the ancient tales that danced around my head. I could almost see the long-fallen empires skirting around the ballroom, with their suits and dresses forged of the finest silks in all colours... I felt as though I stood beside them as they shook hands, and as the engagement of Austria-Hungary and the German Empire was announced. In my mind, it was beautiful... The way Britain described everything was perfect, a sort of perfect that I'd never seen in any book, a sort of perfect that required nostalgia and love...
I quite liked Britain. I didn't care what my father said, she wasn't evil, at least not anymore. She was kind, and she cared for me. Plus, she told me stories, something he never did.
Giggling, I shuffled towards her, leaning my head on her shoulder. I knew that I would be ok. I knew that I was safe now.
A few moments later, I was sound asleep.
YOU ARE READING
I, Deutschland
Fanfiction(ART IS NOT MINE!) After my biological father died, I was left all alone... My sister was taken from me and I was left with the most difficult decision I had ever faced: through all of my tears, I had to choose a Westerner to take me in, and I was i...
