Note: This is my first reader, so please tell me whether I did a good job or not! Advice is greatly appreciated! ☺
Rain. The translucent, cold, liquid poured down on the small city. The sun, shielded by the gray, dark clouds, gave little to no light to the town below. Small puddles of water formed on the sides of the roads, sidewalks, and flowed down roofs, in an overflow. A young girl, from what it looks like, was running down the streets. The girl looked exhausted as she ran, her dirty, (h/c) locks blowing behind her head as her (f/c) dress was tattered, which was constantly kicked up as she bolted down the streets. Her (e/c) orbs darted around primitively, as if in search for a hiding place. Yelling was heard in the abandoned streets, echoing through the town like an owl’s hoot in the night. The girl’s running was becoming sloppy as she turned a sharp right, going down an alley, and towards the end of the town. Her (s/c) skin had small, fresh cuts along her knees, elbows, and cheeks. Tears streamed down her cheeks, mixing in with the blood, as pain and fear radiated form her (e/c) eyes.
You ran. Your bare feet slapped against the wet concrete quickly, although your footing was sometimes off. Each breath you took as you fled was becoming laborious, while each step you took was becoming choppy. Your energy was depleting quickly, which was now obvious as your eyes darted about for a place to hide. You cried silently as you kept running, hearing the dreadful, low, as well as menacing tone of your father’s, “Hey! Get back here this instant, (f/n)! If you don’t, you get twenty flogs! No, forty!” Your tired body shivered at this threat.
You knew what he meant by flogs. Oh, how you dreaded those flogs! Your father had used this method of punishment throughout your lifetime. He would grab an object that was close, preferably a broom or flashlight, and hit your back with it. Each set of ten flogs would leave your back in pain, with multiple shades of red coloring it like severe sunburn.
Carrying on with your labored run, you dashed back into the alleyway; not even daring to look back at your violent father. Your feet splashed through cold puddles of water, which gave you little strength to continue. You’re breathing became heavy, as a cramp started to form around the right side of your abdomen. You whimpered feebly, continuing with a limp in your run. Dashing down the deserted alley, you came to the end, which opened up to a muddy field. You whimpered once more, stopping as you spotted barbed wires that separated you from the field. The muddy field itself seemed like your new sanctum from this violent chase of your father’s. Glancing back, you yelped as you saw your father’s presence slowly get closer. You had no time to lose; or else, it would all be over. Lost. You ducked under the barbed wire, and crawled desperately to the other side. Once over, you bit your lower lip at the site of your arms. They were bloodied, and your back began to smart in a new presence of pain. You glanced back at the barbed wire, noticing how shreds of dirty, bloodied, and pale fabric hung from the wires near the bottom of the gate, serving you as a reminder of your trial to get to the other side. Hearing a loud shout from your father, you shook yourself from the minor distraction, and sprinted away into the muddy field.
I decided to take a refreshing walk from my house, bringing an umbrella with me. I sighed softly, muttering under my breath, “…Those dummkopfs….Italy and bruder Prussia clearly cannot be fit for zer lives…” I continued on with my silent walk, keeping the umbrella over my head, as I muttered some more about my burder and Italy’s habits. I walked down the street, and to the field at the end of the block, and I watched as more clouds came in; obscuring the small rays of sunlight that had penetrated the previous clouds. I sighed. This day was going to be a cold, wet day. I kept walking despite this. It was much better than being stuck at home with those two dummkopfs, Italy and Prussia. Ah….They are a pain… I thought with a bitter smile, keeping my eyes on the field as it came closer into view.
Once I got to the field, I looked at it with a long sigh, watching as the downpour of rain ambush the fragile wheat, making the earth sodden and wet. I was about to turn back, but I stopped, hearing a faint cry. My breathing paused, as I listened to the cry once more. This time, though, I could clearly distinguish it. It sounded like a coyote pup at first, until I realized that it was a child. I looked at the field desperately, already thinking of where the child itself might be. With a huff, I jumped over the waist-high barbed wire fence, landing into the muddy ground with a splash. After I went onto the other side of the fence, I started to run towards the cries. I used this to my leverage, since the cries would lead me to the destination of the child. These cries sounded weak; urgent. Vas there something vrong vith the child?
You had been running for about a steady five minutes, before your legs gave out towards the middle of the field. You crashed into the muddy earth, sliding forward another couple inches. Dirt coated your front, along with the side of your left cheek. You grunted, crying in a panicked tone. You tried to get up, using your shaking arms to pull yourself up. But, once trying this your arms gave way immediately, making you fall back onto your side. You wailed with fright, trying to use your fingers to drag yourself to the base of a large tree. You kept crying, with tears making clean lines on your muddy cheeks. You kept on urging yourself to the base of the tree, already feeling the strength in even your arms start to dim. You were running out of energy. You shivered as a gust of cold air blew through the field, making you realize how cold, wet, and tired you truthfully were. You sniffled softly, continuing your wails of defeat. You couldn’t go on any more, already feeling your consciousness dim, slowly succumbing yourself to the depths of unconsciousness. You yourself knew you need rest, but, in truth, you were unable to, with the threat of your father still on the loose. How close was daddy now? Is he already….in…in the field…? You asked yourself quietly, feeling your grasp onto reality fade away. Your (e/c) eyes slowly closed, leaving your frail body limp in the field. You were unconscious now, with your cries stopping as you became unconscious.
I slowly came to a stop, as the child’s cries were no longer heard. I looked around, panting softly, before looking down on the muddy ground. My eyes darted feverishly through the wheat and mud that coated the field, looking desperately for a sign, or even the body, of a child. I myself knew I wasn’t imagining that sound; it surely wasn’t a trick, which was as much as I can guarantee. I was about to look towards another portion of the field, before I spotted the pale, (f/c) fabric on the ground, coated thickly with mud. I gasped softly to myself, knelt down immediately, and wiped off large cakes of mud, which had been covering the now discovered, tattered dress. I scowled softly, now spotting the limp form of the child through the layer of mud that covered a portion of the child. I first checked to see if there was a pulse, saying quietly, “…Oh Gott….I hope the poor child is still alive…” much to my relief, I felt the faintest sign of life. I sighed, relived at this. Now, after that, I slowly pulled the child into my arms. I tried to be gentle with the little one, making sure she wasn’t harmed in the process. Once I positioned the girl in my arms, I decided to take my green military jacket off, and wrap it around the girl. I placed her back in my arms, looking around the field for any sign of parents. Vas she the only one here…? Surely some parents should be vith her, or, at least, looking for her… I sighed, noticing how she was the only one here. I had heard a distant yell, but that was quickly muffled by the sound of mud. I scowled, and stood with the child cradled in my arms. I looked down to her, pulling the umbrella over the two of us, “Oh Ves…Vhat are you getting yourself into…” I mumbled, watching the child breath faintly. Her (s/c) was pale against my green jacket, making me realize how fragile the child was. I kept my eyes on the girl with a newfound adoration. I then coughed, feeling ridiculous as a thought came up, Maybe I could take ze child in….and become her foster vatti… I shook my head at this, feeling ridiculous. It was impossible for me to take care of this child, especially since Italy and Prussia are already relying on me. I sighed, closing my eyes for a moment, before opening them again. I concentrated, keeping the girl close, and walking out of the field towards my house. The rain seemed to be pouring harder by the time I had come to the door with the small child in my arms, making sure the child wasn’t going to get any more soaked in rain. I opened the door with a swift motion, walked inside, and closed the door silently. I closed the umbrella, and put it beside the door. I drew in a sharp breath, looking around the house. To my astonishment, neither Prussia nor Italy could be seen. I scowled for a moment, before walking up the stairs and into my room with the girl. I laid her gently onto my bed, making sure my coat was still wrapped around the sleeping figure. I grabbed one of my smallest shirts, as well as a towel, and went into the restroom, placing the items on the counter. I picked up the child again, cradling her as I walked to the bathroom with her. First thing was first. If this child were to stay, she’d need to be clean. I closed the door, keeping the child in the crook of my arms. I swallowed nervously, before running the bath. I checked occasionally to make sure it was warm. Once the water was filled at a satisfied level, I hesitated, before removing the small child’s clothes, and gently placing her in the bath. I held onto her while I bathed her, making sure her face hadn’t gotten too wet, nor had her head go into the water. I wrapped her in a towel once I finished, put her into my small t-shirt, which went down to her ankles, and picked her up. I brought my now muddy jacket with me as I walked back to my room silently. I pulled the covers off as I went to the bed, placing the girl carefully into the bed. I pulled the sheets over her now clean form, her soft (s/c) standing out calmly against my sheets. I sighed softly, patting the child’s back in a hesitant way, saying softly, “Gute Nacht, mein Kleiner.” I smiled faintly as the figure seemed to relax to my touch. It was like a calmling feeling. I then walked out of my room slowly, closed the door, walked down the stairs, and sat on the couch. I put my jacket in the laundry bin, looking up to the ceiling towards where the child was sleeping. I think it was a new start for me, to meet this child. But, once the little one wakes up, I should check if there are any Eltern missing her. …Hm….I vonder….where is Italy?