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Literature Text
I stared at myself in the mirror, which was something I always did. This was one of the few times if not the only time in the day where I felt proud of my pale
skin. It looked so beautiful, and I loved the way it glowed in the dark. I never needed to be reminded that my smirk was sexy, but looking in the mirror helped enforce it.
The was the time of day to remind him how awesome I really was, no matter what anyone else said. This part of the day was the reason why I was so confidant in myself. I could stare at myself for hours, but believe it or not I have things to do. Like prove to other people how awesome hI was. Oh yeah, I also have a job at a bar. Even thought there was not really anything special about being a bartender, I still thought it was the coolest job ever.
Then I remembered that France was in the hospital. I quickly got ready and drove to the hospital.
Spain and I waited in the waiting room for about two hours until they were finally allowed to see France. France had an eye patch around his left eye, which made him
look adorable.
“Bonjour.” France said when he finally noticed us.
“Hi.”
“I bet you’re never going to play Russian roulette again are you?” Spain asked.
France shrugged,”I might just aim at my pinky next time.”
I snickered, of course he uses my aweosme idea. France looked fine, despite his eye patch. He should be able to leave soon.
“So, when exactly are you leaving?” I asked.
France shrugged again,”Not for a while .”
“What!? But you only lost one eye.” This was not good, that means something else must be wrong.
“They told me that my bone near my eye cracked.” France explained.
Of course something bad like this would happen, how did Spain and I even let France play this game. France probably drank some wine before or maybe even during the sleepover.
I wish France had a little more common sense. In fact I think I could use a lot more common sense. Now that I look at him, he doesn’t seem as happy than before he accidently shot himself. I hope that’s just the physical pain. I wish I could do something to cheer him up, but I don’t really have any ideas. I at least don’t have any good ones.
“Did they doctors tell you that you had a slim chance of survival?” Spain asked.
It was always funny when doctors say that. They always gave me weird looks when I laughed. They probably thought I was crazy.
“No, they just said that I would only be able to see with one eye.” france giggled. Then I said “Really? I didn’t know that” in the most sarcastic voice, and they took me seriously.”
Spain and I laughed. I hope the doctor was also being sarcastic.
“Did you tell anyone that I shot myself?” France asked.
Spain looked away,”Maaybee.”
France looked like he was about to sit straight up, but he didn’t. The doctors probably didn’t let him sit up.
“Why?”
“Uhh, I couldn’t think of any lies.”
‘Then why didn’t Prussia talk to them?”
We both just stood there
“Well, I couldn’t think of any lies either. You’re the one that’s good at lying.” I pointed out.
France sighed,”Did you at least tell them it was a game.”
“Yes.”
“Good. the last thing I need is for doctors to think I’m suicidal.”
“Killing yourself would be the last thing you would do.” I muttered, mocking France’s love for life. France had an easy life, despite this incident. Getting injured was the
most troubling thing he had to worry about. He just cooked, read romance novals, had sex, and go to parties all the time. He hangs out with his brother a lot. Even Romano and he sometimes talks to him. My brother shunned me, and I have always secretly been trying to find a way to get him to talk to me again. But I pretended that I didn’t care about him. No one was even close to being as awesome as me. That was the best part of my life.
At the World Meeting
Today was the day where all the countries and Sealand gathered to waste time. We are supposed to talk about problems and stuff like that, but Germany is the only person willing to actually talk about that.
Germany sighed,”Today is the day we will stay on task.”
“Task my ass!” America shouted.
Those were the words that started the meetings. I seriously don’t even know why Germany tried to get everyone to stay on task, or why we even go to these meetings.
For some odd reason Germany seemed to glare at everyone, which wasn’t normal even though he rarely smiled. I probably just didn’t notice before. Romano was eating a tomato even though we were aparently not allowed to eat during the world meetings. Germany stopped enforcing that rule a long time ago.
“Lovi! The way you’re eating that tomato is giving me a boner!”
“Shut up bastard! Everything I do gives you a boner.”
Germany took the tomato from Romano’s hand,”How many times do I have to tell you not to eat at the world meetings?”
That was weird. Germany never enforced that rule.
“You never even told me not to eat, Bastard! I eat at world meetings all the time and you never said anything to me,” Romano protested.
Germany thre the tomato away,”Well I better not catch anyone eat in here again. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Everyone said.
“No!” America shouted.
Germany glared at him, but said nothing.
I don’t remember when I started to daydream about myself taking a nice hot shower. Lichtenstein had to call my name before I could realize how messed up my dream was.
“Prussia.”
“What?” I answered,”Do you want my autograph?”
“No, this is serious.”
What? Someone other than Germany wants to talk about something serious during a world meeting! This was odd.
“Okay, then ask away.”
“Is there something wrong with Germany?” Lichtenstein asked.
I shrugged,”I don’t really talk to him that much,” I admitted.
“Why not? You guys used to be very close.”
“Well not anymore. I’m too awesome for him.”
“I bet you don’t really think that.”
“Whatever. So, why do you think something is wrong with him?”
Lichtenstein looked over at Germany,”He isn’t showing any emotion whatsoever.”
“Well, he was always like that. I think you worry too much.”
She just stared at me like I was out of my mind,”When was the last time you hung out with him?”
That was a good question, I know it had to be before the fall of my empire.”Well, it was in 1947.” I guessed.
“Well he smiled after 1947, in fact the last time I saw him smile was a year ago. It’s gotten so bad that even Romano’s worried about him.”
She was probably just saying this so I would talk to Germany again, Romano doesn’t give a shit about Germany.
“I don’t believe you, and I’m not going to talk to him. If you think there’s something wrong with him then you go confront him about it!”
Did Lichtenstein just glare at me? Well I’m not going to fall for that!
“Just go away, I’m trying to listen to the meeting.” I said even though I actually never listen to what important thing people talk about.
Lichtensein walked back to where she usually sits.
In case you didn’t know, I write just about everything in my diary. Some of my diaries are about me, but most of them are about other countries. I opened my diary that I wrote stuff about myself in. I know it’s stupid to write in your diary with lots of people around, but I didn’t know what else to do since Spain was talking with Sealand.
4/27/13
Now I’m starting to wonder if there is really something wrong with Germany. I must admit that he showed more expression the last time there was a world meeting.
Well if there’s something wrong with him, then he deserves it. I really don’t get how Lichtenstein could worry about people she didn’t hang around that much. Okay well she might hang around Germany more than me since she speaks German, but she’s still not that close to him. I also don’t get why she was trying to get me to ask him what was wrong.
There was two problems with that.
1. We just don’t talk anymore.
2. Even if I did care about him, he would never tell me. He wouldn’t even tell Italy what was wrong with him.
That’s all I can write now since the meeting is over.
I went back to the hospital, so I could talk to Spain and France, but Spain didn’t wait for me in the waiting room. When I got to France’s room, they seemed to be in a deep conversation. I was just about to barge in, but I decided to listen to their conversation instead.
France said,”I am reading this book, and the main character obsess with himself and masturbates all they time. Ohohohon. He even write poems to himself, and even goes on dates with himself!”
Spain laughed,”That is crazy! But also hilarious. He should really spend some time in the funny farm.”
I thought this was the perfect time to barge in,”Hey, what’s a funny farm?”
“A mental hospital.” Spain responded.
I laughed,”Sorry I’m late.”
“That’s okay, you were both early.”
I looked back at France,”That sounds like a pretty messed up book you’re reading.” The truth is I don’t think it’s messed up. The person in France’s book is simular to me in the self obsession department. I seriously thought everyone did things like that, or they at least thought some of those things. I bet Christians think it’s a sin. Well at least I don’t actually love myself, I just think I’m sexy. Maybe France and Spain don’t think they’re sexy, so they just think thinking you’re sexy is weird. I can understand why Spain doesn’t think he’s sexy.I mean he’s fun to have sex with, but he isn’t especially hot. But France is sexy, or he is at least cute. It saddens me that he doesn’t seem to believe that.
“Well I am known to read a lot of messed up books, am I not?”
We all just laughed.
I wrote in my diary the minute I got home
4/28/13
France doesn’t even look like he should be in the hospital. I hope he leaves soon, so the Bad Touch Trio can do their usual things. The more I think about him, the more I want to learn about him. I wish I never gave him his diary back, so I could read the whole thing. Now that I think about it, why didn’t I read the whole thing? I guess I respect
him too much. Well I’m not going to get very far respecting everyone. Since France is in the hospital it will be easy to sneak into his house and steal his diary. He even
told me secret places to get in, in case I needed him or something like that.
Now I’m also starting to question if staring at myself in the mirror for an hour is really normal or not. It’s probably not, but I’m sure most people at least wish they
could do something like that. Does really matter if it’s normal or not? No one has to know. It’s not like anyone will read this. Yes, I know I’m going to read France’s
diary, but I know how to break into his house and I can spend as much time as I need searching for it. My diaries are protected by an advanced security system, and I
never told anyone how to break into my house. So my plans are set for tomorrow.
I arrvied at France’s house. It wasn’t too big, but it was very nice. It was a blue and white Victorian house, and it had a romantic vibe to it even without the color red.
I felt very tense, and it felt weird breaking into one of my best friend’s house. I opened a window and climbed in the house, and felt calmer when no sirens went off.
Most people hide their diaries in their room, including me, so I went to his room first. This was the first time I have been able to properly examine his room because I
was drunk or at least acted drunk every time I’ve been to his room. Most of the furniture in his room was either blue or red. The wallpaper was black
with blood red roses on it. His room was much creepier then I remembered.
I looked in his bookcase, under his mattress, and in his closet, but I still couldn’t find it. I opened the top drawer of his nightstand, and found a gun on top of a book.
His diary. That was the same gun that he used to play Russian Roulette. The gun that made it possible to come here and steal his diary. Well, I was really only borrowing it without asking. Some people thought it was the same as stealing, but when you steal something you don’t return it, but you return it when you’re borrowing it. I took the diary and walked back to the window. I should have been out of the house by now, but I liked the atmosphere of the house. It was so comfortable, and it felt safe. It wouldn’t hurt if I just read some of his diary here. I sat on a chair in his living room. There was another identical chair next to it, and there was a small coffee table in front of the chairs. I read his diary front to back. This entry really stood out to me.
4/20/13
I suffered another heartbreak. I asked Japan out and he said yes, but today I caught him making out with Greece. I should have known that he wouldn’t have the heart to decline. I don’t even have any feeling towards him. I just thought he was cute, and I needed someone to love. I am desperate for love, but I won’t admit that.
I just want one person to genuinely love me for a long time. I don’t think that’s ever going to happen. I genuinely love lots of people for long periods of time, but they never return the love. I can’t read romance novels without crying because I always feel envious for them. I still love to read them, but I can’t read them in public. The only reason people want to date is because of my sex. No one seems to really like me. Everyone honestly thinks I’m a whore. Even I sometimes think I’m one.
I wonder what it would be like to be alone for a year. A year without reading. Complete isolation. I wont be influenced by anything that makes people hate me. I won’t have sex with anyone, so no one could think I’m a whore. Maybe I would be a different person that someone would want to love. Maybe someone will give me a chance, and they’ll come to me. Then I’ll know that they actually love me. I hate forcing people to love me, but I sometimes feel like I do that. I think Japan thought I was forcing him to love me even though I didn’t threaten him. I didn’t mean to make him think that he had to love me. He has probably been used twice as much as I have, and here I am complaining about that when I set myself up to be used. I just don’t deserve to have anyone love me, but I don’t care.
I closed his diary. It was more depressing then I thought it would be. Well at least some of the entries were cheerful. I’m so glad he didn’t write certain things
the Bad Tough Trio has done. Even France can sometimes have sense. I knew he was obsessed with romance and things like that, but I didn’t know he was that obsessed.
Every single entry had at least something to do with love. I doubt he could even go a minute without thinking about it. Should I tell Spain what I found in France’s diary?
No, he would probably tell France even if he swore not to tell on his life. Whoever came up with the honesty is the best policy shit is unawesome. France would kill me if he found out.
