first; https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1274264628/ next; not yet **Written from India's perspective** It's the week after. The week after I found Pakistan in the room. The week after he showed up. Stepfather. I sit at the edge of the bed, hands held up together in prayer. My eyes stay on his, but flick to the rise and fall of his chest, as I only breathe when he does. Even though he's my enemy, I can't imagine a life without him. His eyes flutter open, and I immediately stand up. "India...?" He croaks. I can't believe it. He's awake. And speaking to me. He's... smiling? "Brother," I rasp, my voice scratched-up and hoarse due to the lack of use over the miserable series of days. I walk over, my head still not registering that it's all real, that my brother is alright. He nods, and props himself up on the heels of his hands. I feel like I'm floating as I approach the corner of his bed. "You're awake," I breathe, ghosting my fingertips over the side of his face. "Yeah." He nods, his gaze anxiously flitting around the room. "Is it..." The question lingers in the silence between us, and it takes me a moment to recollect myself before I answer. "It's over." I nod, and his eyes widen for a split second before he sags in relief. But he doesn't know what happened after he passed out in my arms. **Back to one week previous, same scenario as Deny** Pakistan sags in my arms, but I know he trusts me from the moment I entered the room to find him. Why did he keep walking...? The question is deterred from my mind as one of the tendrils of smoke lashes out towards my brother's limp body, and I pull him closer to my chest, making the smoke whip miss him but narrowly graze my shoe. That was close. Too close. I gently rest Pakistan's head against my backpack, standing up to face BE once more, just like I did my first day under his colonization. I lift my chin, just like I did my first day under his colonization. I pierce him with a glare, just like I did my first day under his colonization. But this time, I'm stronger. Wiser. Older. Smarter. Quicker. And the most important of all, I'm not afraid. I was, when he had control over me. But now he doesn't. I am a free nation, under nobody's control but my own. I am a free nation, under nobody's control but my own. I am a free nation, under nobody's control but my own. I repeat this in my head like a mantra as I take step after step towards him, anger coiling in the very marrow of my bones. BE just 'handled' my brother the way he 'handled' me. And I refuse to let him 'handle' my brother. Not if I can 'handle' BE first. BE smirks as I approach him. Ha. Such bravado for someone who just hurt my brother. He will face the consequences of his actions. I refuse any other solution. A tendril of the nasty-smelling smoke wraps around my ankle, jerking me backward. I kick at it, but that movement costs me time, and the second I look up, it's already too late, and he's struck me across the chest. The air leaves my lungs as I stagger backward, and as if on cue, another blade -or so I should call it- of smoke coils right in front of me, and spears itself through my left eye. Pain radiates through me in wave after wave, pure intolerable agony coursing through my veins. My blood turns to fire, my veins to flames. I feel like I'm being burned alive and bleeding out at the same time. Tears burn in my eye, stream down my cheeks, as I'm redirected to the same memory which has stopped me from sleeping for the past 78 years of my current life. Make it stop. Oh, gods, make it stop. The pain suddenly vanishes, leaving me a teary, trembling mess. A sense of foreboding takes place in my chest as I lift my fingers to my eye, waving them in front of my face. I don't see anything. I snap my fingers in front of my face. My ears register the sound, but my eye still doesn't see my hand in front of my face. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. No. Nonononono. It's back. A cold- cruel cackle rends the air. "Have you forgotten? Have you not remembered the way you knelt to me? Have you not remembered the way I cursed you? Well, I have done it again, and there's no way for you to fight it. You have gotten smarter? So have I. You have gotten cleverer? So have I. You have gotten stronger? So. Have. I." I can imagine his wolfish grin as he slowly draws out the words. My limbs move on their own as if someone else is controlling them, which someone else is. NO. I won't let that happen. I can't. Not again. I am a free nation, under nobody's control but my own. I am a free nation, under nobody's control but my own. I am a free nation, under nobody's control but my own. I desperately repeat it over and over again in my head, willing my body to move. And it does. I sweep my legs, pulling out his from under him. I aim a scorpion kick to his head, and my aim hits true; his head falls backward and he collapses, falling to the floor. The smoke envelopes him and slowly dissolves, (+)
(+) and he dissolves with it. I intake a ragged gasp, falling to my knees. I did it. He's gone. I am a free nation, under nobody's control but my own. I am a proud countryhuman under the rule of none, under the colonization of none. I am a free being. I slowly exhale, turning back to Pakistan. Time to get us home. **same day, an hour later** I gently set him on the bed, and his head lolls to the side. He should rest. I press a gentle kiss to his forehead. "I'll be here when you wake up," I murmur in his ear. **Back to the present, a week after** I smile sadly down at him as his eyes land on my newly blinded eye, iris whited out and pupils cloudy from the curse. "What happened?" He asks, eyes wide. I shake my head, cup his chin, and press a kiss to his head. "None of your concern. I'm fine," I lie, but I know I can't tell the truth, because if I do, it'll happen again. The pain. The torture. All of it. And unlike a week before, I'm afraid now. Because then, I was a free nation, under nobody's control but my own. But now? He's found me. He can control me. But I refuse to let him use me. I refuse to forget myself, forget what I've become, what I've endured, what I've lived through. Because while he may watch me, I will still lift my chin. I will still square my shoulders. Because I am India. The oldest of the nations to exist. I have lived long. I have suffered long. I refuse to forget what I've done. I refuse to forget what I've lived through. I refuse to forget the wars I've fought. I refuse to forget the now-deceased allies I walked aside. I refuse to forget who I am. I am a free nation, under nobody's control but my own. Or I was. **END OF CHAPTER** so lemme give you the lore!! :D TW; disturbing stuff ahead SO like I said last time, India had the scars and memories of the scars from his past life right???? BE remembers giving them to him. And giving him his blind eye. there's a curse BE would give the colonies he... well... colonized, and India was also hit with it. BE ripped out his vocal cords (and no, I'm not copying you @AlaraMintz pls don't think that ) through torture and scarred his lips so he wouldn't be able to talk. So he lived that life completely mute. He wasn't able to comunicate anything personal, the curse he held in his scars meant that BE was always watching. So he couldn't express his emotions in public, and not even when he was alone, because he was still being watched. and in his new current life, he still believes he's being watched, because the scars from all his beatings and torture are still there, and his eye is still blind. and so he basically just bottles up his emotions, which through scientific resources leads to memory loss, so don't bottle up your emotions, kids. :D and so he protects his siblings even though both kind of hate him and keep trying to take his land or such, because he's trying to give them the life of being protected, of being supported, of being cared about like he never was.
