Bottle up Some Hope

Eye of the Storm

Hawaii's POV

I stood in the doorframe, watching Alberta get concerned over their pet chicken. I felt dull and hollowed. Shock, I assumed. I hazily remembered that all storms had an eye. In the eye, it was absolute calm surrounded by the rage of the planet. I felt like that, calm inside of chaos. I watched Saskatchewan, despite Alberta being the one hurt. Saskatchewan always took Alberta's pain harshly. That was how their chicken came into the twin's possession, he was probably the first therapy chicken ever. A therapy chicken. Named Lunch. Just when I when I thought I've seen it all.

I turned as I felt a tap on my shoulder, "Hawaii, est tu correcte? Et qu'est ce qui est arrivé à Alberta(Hawaii, are you alright? Also, what happened to Alberta)?"

Turning around, I saw a concerned Quebec holding bandages. I knew Ontario was looking for the first aid kit for Alberta's cuts. I explained everything to him, and bit by bit, my shock wore off. Quebec took notice and told me, "Va te calmer ailleurs, je m'occuperai des jumeaux. Si vous avez besoin de faire quelque chose de productif, obtenir le poulet (Go calm down somewhere else, I'll take care of the twins. If you need to do something productive, get the chicken)."

I learned enough French to understand Quebec, I didn't want to try and force him to do something he physically couldn't. That was a cruel act.  I was breathing heavily and I was trying to calm down before I could force myself to hyperventilate. Nodding, trying to measure my breath, I turned and walked aimlessly down the upstairs hallway. The snap of Alberta's bone rang threw my ears. I stumbled and turned towards the stairs. Maybe I shouldn't go outside, I could get hit by a car in my current state. Tearing through the repeated snapping playing in my ears, I could've sworn I heard voices. They were unfamiliar, which was odd because I recognized all sixty-three PTS' voices. Turning towards Quebec and Ontario's office, I tried to clear my head by shaking it. I was happy I wasn't wearing my hibiscuses today. I reached forward and pushed the door open.

Peering into the room, I took in the pictures of all the provinces and territories, as young as five. The dark leather chairs and the maple desk. On the desk was a lit-up computer showing a group of people, who were talking in multiple different languages. I stumbled closer to see what was happening. On the screen, a stripped country with fifty stars looked up with concern for his state. America looked at me with a fatherly concern that surprised some of the people around him, "Hawaii?! What happened are you okay?"

I looked up at him sluggishly, "That stupid idiot fell from twenty feet."

Ame and Nada exchanged looks, with Canada asked, in a slightly exasperated tone, "I presume the idiot is Alberta. What did he break this time?"

I tried taking in the other people but failed. All of my senses were failing me in a way out of shock. I tapped my leg and muttered, "He snapped his leg cleanly in two, all his face is cut up from branches," noticing America's confused expression I added, "He was in a tree and the branch he was on snapped."

Soon other countries started asking questions and concerns about Alberta. It was starting to feel like a therapy session. Mostly Russia was giving off the vibe, it explains all the mother Russia memes Californa hides on his phone. We knew Ame and Canada didn't want us to know about the other countries, so we hid the fact we knew. Most of the time.

I soon became occupied and didn't realize Ontario and Quebec were standing in the doorway.

It felt nice to have a clear head.

»»————- ♔ ————-««

Ontario's POV

I and Quebec stood in the doorway watching the countries cheered up Hawaii, soon we heard Alberta's voice rise up weakly and Quebec tossed me a concerned glance and walked over to Alberta's current room.

I don't trust these people with my friends, no my FAMILY, but already they're doing nothing but help us so far... Maybe I should ask everyone about instead it of just keeping it between me and Que.

»»————- ♔ ————-««

Alberta's POV

Jesus, everything hurts! I can't move my jaws because of these shitty gauzes. Sasquatch needs Lunch. I want my effing crutches, too.

Shifting what I could move of my mouth, I groaned, trying to call, for Quebec, "B-Be... B-Beck-Becky,"

I heard Quebec's footsteps approach. When Quebec entered the room, I stared at him and angrily gestured at my bandages. Quebec crossed his arms and immediately scolded me, "Non, je viens de les mettre pour toi! Tu n'es pas censé parler non plus! Saskatchewan, pouvez-vous essayer de la contrôler (No, I just put them on for you! You're not supposed to talk either! Saskatchewan, can you try to control it)?"

Sasquatch quickly nodded, almost as if it was she was the one who couldn't talk. The traitor.

Send help!

(856 words)
Fixed it