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🇷🇺What you think of me🇷🇺

Could it be from the matter of time or the relevance wether if I learn anything in time or during time. I don't understand why scars still stay after they've faded. Is it possible to arrive to such a level of disparity that you can no longer be aware of the realization to how you got there? Is it some black void that consumes anyone when they're near and erases their ability to realize where they stand. I don't understand why everyone still think I'm the exact same to who I was 5 years ago. Yet the paint still stays, and marks me. Maybe 5 years isn't enough for 9,13,19,20, no matter how many. They will never forget? They do not care for how much we or I've changed? This isn't fair, maybe people don't change, but they change in their ways that still remarkably resemble them....
Why won't people...
Give me....
A chance.............?

Russia thought to himself as he continued to wipe off the never ending paint that drips off his entire body. Especially his face, he looked at the liquid resemblance of his past self, still connected to his fingers. The paint again slightly distorting the flag on his face, " This isn't fair " He whispered as wiped his fingers then wiped his face with his closed fist.

You looked at him in awe and Sympathy, you walked up to the tall man where his eyes looked dead, as the paint continued to pour from his body and face " Russia? " you asked softly. He slowly turned his eyes to you and slightly leaned forward from being so tired, he tiled his chin slightly which indicated his attention to you. You really didn't know what to say, you were very unsure of what words to put together as you thought that any question or talk could be worth nothing that could ease him from his disparity. Sometimes, words are useless to describe feelings that cannot be perfectly defined, as it remains to be an unbearable never-ending ball of energy. Dead energy.......

You couldn't do anything but simply just say " I'm here " And for some reason. Russia's expression seemed slightly stunned, his eyes raised a bit and his lips seem a bit tense. He walked up to you and looked down, you shivered slightly in fear as he then.. from an inch... slightly smiled. You then did the unthinkable, you jumped into his arms and hugged him tight. Russia stood there in shock as he took a few seconds to realize as he then hugged you back slowly, you felt how slightly frail he was, even though he was very well built. His body felt exhausted due to so much sorrow, you just hugged him, as he hugged back.

It wasn't fair, it wasn't fair that someone had to feel so much due to consequence and result to somebody else's action, rain of terror. It wasn't fair how him and many other people did not agree with the massacre, and atrocities that had been committed. You tried to let go but he didn't seem to want to. What broke your heart more was when you looked up, his eyes were closed, relaxed and tired, his unmoved frown. Tears flowing down, " Russia... " You asked as he slowly opened his eyes and looked down at you. Slightly raising him eyebrow. You almost

Teared up, but kept it together. You looked away as the paint continued to fall on you, " I'm sorry, I didn't mean to paint you " He said softly. You shook your head and looked at him again " No no, not that. Not at all, I just, you, you become the person you want to be. Who you truly are, what someone else does who's related to you in away, and who knew that one person's action could affect everyone else after his/her's passing. It really wasn't fair. At all.. but that was how life is. You must find the fairness in the unfair " You said as he tilted his head in slight confusion but had  a touch of understanding.

" I mean, it wasn't fair what happened, it isn't fair that this has affected everyone who lived here, it isn't fair that this a forger mark to the people who continue to live and their future children. But it's fair to take yourself from everything that happened and make your own self. Not regarding anyone's opinions, beliefs, or judgment.... " you said confident as well as hoping what you said wouldn't offend or hurt him more. He then giggled, and for the first time, that was the first time you heard him laugh for so long, since he was a very small child. He opened his eyes more to where he could see

better and smiled and then laughed aloud. All of a sudden the paint finally stopped dripping from his head and body and it finally dried all over. He looked at you and reframed to his normal expression, a bit tired, relaxed, looking cold when he's just thinking, and normal. All of a sudden the paint cracked and fell off from his body, you could see now that his body just remained back to his original skin. Red all over and his flag on his face. " спасибо, thank you... " he said and gave you another hug. You smiled knowing that he was finally himself and he wasn't holding onto it that much anymore, now he was doing well.