All I see is darkness. I hear indistinct voices in an unfamiliar language and then the pain begins, or returns I should stay. It hurts the worst in my back. I feel like the wolf is still on my back, ripping the tender skin to shreds. My shoulder burns with pain as well, along with my face. I slowly open my eyes and groan at the bright light that adds my eyes to the long list of what hurts. The voices stop talking and I open my eyes to see a couple of people across the room staring at me.
A man as tall as a tree, wearing a fluffy hat says, "You are awake." I nod painfully,
"Unfortunately" I say and try to sit up. I hiss at the excruciating pain, and a young girl, about New Zealand's age grabs my arm and helps me up. She wears a red and white scarf and a small red flower crown with red and white ribbons coming down from it, one of them falling in front of her face. I thank her and she returns to what I assume are her siblings. The tall man who spoke glares at me with piercing eyes and a stone face.
Trying to break the uncomfortable silence I say,
"My name is America, by the way. Also, who are you and where am I?" I stare back at the man and wrap my arms around myself protectively.
"I'm Belarus!" The little girl who helped me up blurts out. The tall man directs his glare at her and then back at me.
"I'm Ukraine!" another girl says and waves shyly. She has a big colorful flower crown on her head and wears thin circular glasses. The tree man sighs,
"I am Russia. You are at my house." He has a thick accent, and that must've been Russian they were speaking. I nod,
"How did I get here?"
"A bird led me to camp. You lost lot of blood and were passed out, I carried you. I am going to bring to hospital today." The memory of my father's search party floods back to me,
"Don't bring me there!" I squeak, higher than expected, throwing my arms out in front of me dramatically. I wince at the sharp pain in my shoulder and quickly bring my arms back in, which only causes slightly more pain.
"Why?" Russia says and squints his eyes at me. I shift uncomfortably on the couch where I was sitting. What should I say? Would he turn me in? I'll risk it. I have to, right? I groan,
"My father. I ran away to get away from him and his control over me. He has a search party out for me, against my wishes." I chuckle and find something, anything to look at that isn't the Russian's face, "He's a persistent lil' brit." There is another silence, which is broken by the fourth person who stood across the room from me. A young boy with golden wings and a blue, for the most part, body.
"My name is Kazakhstan" He waves shyly and I smile and wave back. Russia grunts and pulls them aside.
(Russia's POV)
I grab my youngest sister's arm and motion the others to follow and they do. A million thoughts run through my head as I pull them into the hallway.
"What should we do about him?" I say in Russian to my siblings. English was my second language and I didn't know it as well as my siblings. Not that I care. It was far too difficult to learn everything but they put in the effort anyway, for some unknown reason. Ukraine thinks for a moment,
"Well we can't just kick him out, he's injured," She says, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt. I grunt,
"It wouldn't be all that hard..." I mutter to myself. Ukraine shoots me a dirty look,
"What was that?"
"Nothing." I look at the ground. Belarus sighs,
"We know how having a parent that's controlling is. We can't just leave him." Belarus was right. We did know how it is. Our tyrant father controlled our lives from the moment I was born, to the the moment he died. I shudder at the memory of him and snap back to the present instead of reflecting on the past, like I had been. I shake my head. What if he was exaggerating? What if he wasn't?
"I do not know. He can stay for now, and I can take care of his wounds." I say, and my siblings all nod in agreement. We make our way to the living room. And there he is, on the couch with a worried smile on his face. America. How did he get to where he was, laying helpless and unconscious in the forest with fierce scratches on his thin body. I probably had more questions than he did.
(America's POV)
As soon as Russia pulled up a chair in front of me, I was gunned down with questions. Like with a machine gun.
"Let us start off with what you were doing in forest." Russia started, staring at me with piercing eyes, like the wolves and Grace did. It was almost as though he could devour my soul with a single glance. I gulped, not ready for the interrogation as my head still spun and my mind throbbed with pain.
"Um, I ran away. I wanted to be more independent." I said, reflecting on what was but a week ago, when it felt like a lifetime ago. Russia grunts again and nods,
"Why do you have bird?" My heart leaped at this. Grace must've saved me! I vaguely recall her screech and Russia mentioning her.
"Is she here?" I ask, welling up with hopefulness,
"That is not answer." I had forgot about the question,
"Oh yeah! I helped her heal her wing and took care of her." Russia nods,
"How did you get hurt. Did wolf attack you?" Russia asks and squints. I shudder at the memory and faintly feel the weight of the large wolf on my back again. I fidget with hands,
"Yes, a wolf. Well, actually three. I killed off one, and stabbed another. The other Grace chased off I think." I look down at my knees, regret filling me. The wolf hadn't deserved to die, it was the food chain. Circle of life and all that jazz. I see Russia nod from my peripheral vision.
"How old are you?" I look up, surprised at the question. Russia has a kind (well as kind as he can look with his resting face looking so cold and mean).
"21. And you?" I ask, grinning. Russia smirks,
"23, young junior" Russia says in his thick accent, putting his hand on his chest and closing his eyes. I hadn't expected him to warm up. Like at all. His smirk fades as he asks another question,
"One more question," He starts, "Who was on the speaking device?" I straighten up. I had forgotten about my family.
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Sorry I haven't published in a while! I had two different versions of this chapter because I didn't like the first, and then some things came up. I might publish a little less because I should focus more on school and my family.
words:1161(sorry it's so short too...)
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In The Trees
Fanfiction"I am America, I speak for the trees, and if you come near me, I'll break your freaking knees" -Quote given by @Darkskully America has run away, completely broken apart from society. Now he lives amongst the trees. Also there won't be any really bad...
