Guess What?

Letter

I want someone to write a story based on the names of these "fine" chapters xD

Damn it. I should have gone to change some more thicker pants. My legs were freezing, even tho I was used to a freezing temperature. I had to keep walking to stop my legs from completely freezing.

I pulled out the letter that Soviet had written for me. I was curious but scared. What did he have to say that he could not tell me face to face?

His death wasn't unexpected, but the illness was. The illness had started to rip his flesh apart and tore his organs open. He kept it quiet for a while, but eventually he was in such a bad state that even the simplest things became hard for him. It was a shame.

It was a really hard hit for all his children, but especially Russia. I heard from his siblings that he hasn't been quite the same after loosing Soviet. Thankfully he has been getting better.

I gently took the fragile piece of paper on my hand. I fiddle with it for some time, looking at it at all possible ways, before folding it open. I scanned over the paper. The handwriting was getting more, and more messier the lower it went. I realised that it was a longer letter than what it looked like. There were some blood drops, ink drops, coffee drops, folds, and what I think we're tear marks. It was clear he didn't write this all at one sitting.

I couldn't get myself to read the first sentence. I gave up and folded it carefully back to its envelope. I putted it back to my pocket, starting to walk to a certain building. I knew it was far away. But I had nothing else to do this night so why not pay a visit.

As I was walking the snow slowly kept falling far above myself. The cold wind picking at my skin through my leggings. I didn't care. I barely felt it at this point. It was silent around me. Everyone was asleep but me.

I was always alone.

The animals had hid from the night, sleeping soundly in their nests. I could not see the sky, which was a real shame as it was difficult for me to move around in this darkness. I was so glad that my eyes were used to it.

~time skippero ~

I was finally here. I looked up at the tremendous old wooden mansion. It was long forgotten and I knew it would be dangerous to go in there. I still went.

I walked through the destroyed first floor, until I reached the inner ward. The garden was over grown, yet in the summer it was glowing an  unspeakable glory. I came here sometimes to be alone. This wasn't how ever where I was heading right now. I walked through the large garden, over to a hall. It was like a dance floor. In the old days it had been used as a dance floor, but to also welcome any guests that came to visit.

And it was used as a murder scheme.

The marvelous windows that were from floor to ceiling long would allow a lot of natural light to come in. You could also see the garden and the front yard from this room. They had been majestic, fitting with this whole mansion and the people who lived in it.

Now the windows were broke and dirty. And the mansion a ghost house. It had been the home of a noble family, the house had been breath taking for sure. Now it was nothing but a wreck of what it had used to be.

The moon was now shining through the clouds, making the room glow with beautiful blue dust surrounding the room. It was like straight from a fairy tale. Except for the only person standing in here.

I didn't belong in here. I had never truly belonged here, no matter what I had been told. This wasn't my home, it never was. Then again I don't know where my home is. I know where my house is, but home isn't the same thing.

I could almost hear the classic music playing as people chatted and danced gracefully. I closed my eyes, letting the memories of this house I had fill every corner of my mind. I had lived here. Soviet had lived here. His father, Russian Empire had lived here.

In the summers me and Soviet would play outside, taking in the wonders of summer. The warm air brushing against our soft skin. The cool grass under our feet as we ran. The smell of new blooms filling our noses. The animals that sang for us, taking care we would never get lost in the deep forest.

In the winters when we would study inside, escaping few times to play in the snow, only to get scowled by Russian Empire for being foolish. Yet we did it again, and listened to him rant. It was always worth it. Sometimes we would climb to the roof in the coldest of nights to watch the northern lights and the stars. But we always found time to sit in front of a fireplace telling stories to one another.

"Я скучаю по тебе", my voice hinting at sadness as my eyes were glossy. I know why I could not hate him even though what he did to me in the winter war, because of our close history. I was never really adopted, but we were still like brothers. And you can't hate your siblings forever, no matter how hard you try.

I opened the letter, preparing mentally for what would be inside.

Translation :

Я скучаю по тебе = I miss you