One of my poor fanfiction attempt. My lovely beta hasn’t checked it yet, so look out for mistakes!!!
I’d just like an opinion… should I keep on writing this? I had this idea last night…
So, if there’s anyone left who loves Hetalia, and incredibly still follow my blog, I’d really like your opinions on this: Yuri’s fic
I’m going to publish my only two Sherlock fanfics and the only one english Hetalia fanfic, so there’s nothing interesting so far…. but just to let you know…
I start noticing my surroundings: soft mattress under my hip, rough bedclothes over my cheek, a pillow shoved under my head. It’s wet. Tears. Not my smell. Another smell, melancholic, sad, beloved. Absent. I can notice it on this pillow only; the world’s walls are closing around this bed.
The atrocious pain in my chest is coming back as I wake. I need to hide it under this pillow, the bedclothes, the mattress, anything. I need to block it out. I’m still weeping and I think this is the only thing I’ve ever been able to do.
Soft, reluctant steps circumnavigate the bed, my island, my world. I can’t see who is coming, I don’t want to see, but I know. I can still hear.
“I talked to the doctor.”
I used to be the doctor. What happened to me?
“He said you should take these.”
Oh, yes. I know what happened. I don’t want to remember.
“These will make you sleep, dear.”
My mind is trying to separate itself; I can barely feel my movements. I take two pills. Cold water runs in my chest. For a moment I’m afraid it will fall in the big black hole I have instead of my heart.
My leg burns. It has never hurt so much.
Don’t move. Don’t breathe.
*Welcome in YouChat* - 27th July, 3.36 pm
*John221 has entered the chat*
John221: Unbelievable. But I’m here.
John221: Is anyone here?
John221: Ok, this is utterly ridiculous, I’m leaving
John221: …..talking to me?
User1895: Well, I’m typing, actually
John221: So you’re typing to me
User1895: Precisely. It’s not very crowded today, isn’t it?
John221: Do you come here often?
User1895: Not so often. Most of the time it’s populated by maniacs and aroused teenagers
John221: I must suppose you’re not one of them, so. Heartening.
User1895: What about you?
John221: I’m not a maniac, I’m just here… to spend my time but… well is not a good period to me and… no, maye I should not talk about this to a complete stranger. My therapist suggested me to write a blog, so maybe I’m supposed to confide to you but I’m not sure this is the right way and…. uhm, sorry
User1895: I meant: what about you? What’s your name? How old are you?
John221: Oh! Ok, right! I’m John. It was quite predictable. I live in London. And you?
User1895: I’m Mary, I live in London, too. Pleased to meet you