JC ch 5 After a long travel the plane finally landed. Sphyro was relieved, to be honest she hated flying on anything that wasn't a dragon's back, but America kept her busy through most of the ride. They were walking down a cobblestoned street lined with bright shops and houses. Even though Sphyro's sphere could show almost everything the 'almost' part came with finding street addresses (much to her inconvenience). Luckily America knew where Italy lived with the many meetings that were held at the small nation's house. The two stopped outside of a dark red bricked house. It looked normal enough; a flower bed at the window, white lace curtains, and beautiful paintings could be seen in the living room (drawn by Feliciano most likely). America led the way to the dark brown door of the small house. He brought his fist up and heavily knocked on the door. It took several minutes before it swung open to reveal an irritated Germany.
JC ch 4 Why am I so useless? It hurts. I can't do anything to help anyone. No military strength to help Germany, I can't focus to pay attention enough for my brother. Nothing I do is good! It's always something that hurts or inconveniences other people. I feel the tears streak down my face again. Strange. I've been here with no water or food for over a week. I shouldn't have any water left in my system. I look over at the blood soaked knife on the bedside table next to me. It was... wonderful. Watching the blood spill out of my body, so warm, so beautiful, so tasty! The pain made me feel something other than the soul sucking pitcher of sadness. "One more... maybe two... seven.... yes, seven!" I whisper to myself as I reach over to the knife. As I take it in my hand I hear heavy footsteps approaching my door. Germany. Only his footsteps could be so bulky. "Italy, can't you come out? I made pasta, your favorite! I e
JC CH 3 Fidgeting his thumbs he glanced at the clock. 5:00 P.M. on the dot. Usually the rambunctious American would have come back right now if he had been in a good mood. If it was a bad mood he would have texted him a mad face telling him to meet him at a McDonalds. But not this time. The silence started to take its toll on the victim. 'I hope I wasn't too harsh this time. I was mildly drunk and had forgotten what I had said. I remember that America didn't think I was drunk. I hope I didn't make anything worse by driving him away if he just wanted comfort.' England was snapped out of his thoughts as his phone vibrated. He hurriedly snatched it up and looked to see who it was as his hopes were high for wanting to apologized to the American. Seeing the contact he groaned. France. Out of all the people. If it wasn't America he would have at least wanted Canada to be calling. Never the less he picked up anyways. "Wh