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Post by Venezuela on Mar 25, 2011 10:18:37 GMT -6
Someone told me love would all save us
But how could that be? Look what love gave us
_________________________________ BUENOS AIRES, ARGENTINA
1992Alma tightened her shawl around scrawny shoulders, staring up at the house before her. She shuddered beneath a breeze, dark eyes focused. She could barely think, anymore, could barely get a breath in edgewise. To say that this hadn't been a good year for her, thus far, would be a horrible, hideous understatement. Since Chavez had taken power, he'd seized it in a horribly violent coup d'etat. Socialism, the Bolivar revolution... It had all happened so fast. Venezuela was spiralling downward; she feared as though there was nothing she could to to stop it. She thought back to when her sister was still around, when things were relatively safe; when it didn't hurt quite so much to breathe. It made her feel more at ease, at least a little, to think of her sister, and her warm, spicy scent. (Jesus, she probably looked a sight: scrawny, thin, scraggly; hair cut to her jaw at a shaking, haphazard angle.) But Eva Peron was dead. Wasn't she? The Venezuelan girl refused to think of it. She shook her head as though to tell herself this, starting on shaky legs toward the house. Was she allowed to have her delusions? "E - Evita..." Alma whimpered, staggering to catch herself on the wood of the door. Tears silently slipped down her face. She'd stay here until she had to be dragged. She knew that much. ________________________________
A world full of killing, and blood-spilling
That world never came... A/N: Short, but... ;A; |
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Post by Argentina on Mar 25, 2011 11:38:08 GMT -6
There's another world inside of me that you may never see
There's secrets in this life that I can't hide
______________________ Home...After forty years of being away, she was back. Even though she hadn't wanted to leave London, the place that had always felt more like home than her own. She had known all along that she would have too once things in her own country settled with the promise that one day when she was able to help sort out all of the problems and help get their home back to how it used to be, that she would return. For now however...Finding her family, to help repair the shambles that she knew their homes were in now, was first priority. How she wished she was able to do so much more, more than she had in the short span of seven years that she had though she knew much had been accomplished. For at least six of those years, the economy had thrived. Her descamisados had been taken care of. However her work had come at a high price, a price that she knew from the beginning that she would have had to take. She wasn't proud of what measures she had to take to get to that sort of power, while she knew that the power had consumed her. Overwork. Exhaustion. Until her body could no longer handle the pressure that it had been forced to be subjected to. When she finally woke, she had found herself in London. It wasn't until later that she had found out what happened, and why. She couldn't help but still feel those feelings of gratitude for what Arthur had done for her, nursing her back to health and forcing her to stay where she was on the chance that the same fate would occur again. While she was there...She received very little news, let alone let herself give any news. In the eyes of the rest of the world, Eva Duarte de Peron was dead. For the time...She had to keep it that way, even to her family. If it had become known that she indeed was still alive...God forbid she wasn't sure if she wanted to know what would happen. More than likely she would have been drug back home, potentially try and be forced to take part in Videla's war against her own people. She had felt the sharp, stabbing pain and shortness of breath through those years, though she hadn't known until recently why. She could only watch from across the ocean, unable to do nothing as their homes went up in flames. Dictatorships. Disappearances. Torture. Murder. She stopped for a moment, hands clenching with her nails digging into her palms and taking in deep breaths in an effort to calm herself. She couldn't think of those things now, she couldn't afford to let herself get overly worked-up again. The possibility of fainting wasn't an option. She began to walk forward again, the soft click of her heels calming her as the sounds filled her ears. Her hand rose upward to clench tightly to the silver charm around her neck as she soon found herself on familiar streets, soon on the sidewalk in front of her home. Dark garnet eyes soon fell on the figure slumped on her door, sounded as though she was...Crying. Something felt off, very off. Eva quietly stepped forward, taking in the sight before her. That hair color, that voice calling her name...Her sister. Alma... She looked...So...So thin...So frail...Good God in heaven...What had happened to her? The sight broke her heart, if Alma was in this bad of shape...She didn't want to see what kind of condition the rest of her siblings were in. A horrible pang of guilt dropped in the pit of her stomach, unable to help but think that somehow...This was her fault. She wasn't here for her brothers and sisters...Wasn't here to protect them...Couldn't protect them...She...Couldn't...Protect them. Eva rose a hand to wipe away the tears that threatened to fall, no tears. She had to be strong. Carefully walking up behind her sister, her hand gently rested on top of her head before speaking in a soft voice. "Alma...Hermana...Why are you crying?"Somewhere in this darkness there's a light that I can't find
Maybe it's too far away, maybe I'm just blind
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Post by Venezuela on May 10, 2011 8:38:23 GMT -6
And they say that a hero could save us -
I'm not gonna stand here and wait
_________________ She barely registered the sound of footsteps behind her, focused on the doorframe in front of her. She'd support it with all her strength if she had to, and would not be moved. Not that it'd be too difficult to move the weakened nation, anyway. Alma looked as though she could be blown away by a stray breeze. Suddenly, the sound of steps grew louder and then, stopped, directly behind her. Was it someone to take her away? All she wanted was to stay like this. To mourn Eva's memory. Wasn't that the proper thing to do in such times...? This was the first time she had to visit the elder nation's home, and yet... And yet, it hurt even more to think of it. She clasped a hand over her mouth to hide a soft, ragged sob. A hand placed itself, gently, on her head, and she flinched under the contact. No closeness. No physicality. Not after... that. No. Never. Then the familiar voice spoke up, and the amber eyes widened. She froze, her thin body trembling under the coldness of the air. It couldn't be. She had to be hallucinating. There was no way in hell... Alma took another shuddering, slow breath, hesitating, and finally dared to turn around. No way. Her eyes only widened further and she pressed into her sister's form, terrified and upset and still grieving and so happy that she couldn't think straight. "You're a - alive... I'm..." Her knees trembled, threatening to give under her weight. Her sister was home, and that was all that mattered now. Wasn't it?
_________________
I'll hold on to the wings of the eagles
Watch as we all fly away
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Post by Argentina on May 11, 2011 10:18:04 GMT -6
You will fly and you will crawl
God knows even angels fall
________________ She felt her eyes fall closed when she walked toward the frail being that was her sister, only able to watch when she clung with everything that she had to the door frame. Taken away, that's what she believed that would happen it seemed. The sharp tensing of her chest, knotting in her stomach...It was so painful to watch. The frail being in front of her who once was so strong, filled with so much fire...Now nothing more than a wisp who could easily be blown away with the wind. The wracking sobs that her sister was trying to bite back, only coming out as strangled whimpers only caused the horrible tension in her chest and stomach to increase in intensity. What on earth happened in the forty years while she was gone? Though, that was a stupid question to be asking herself. She hadn't learned until recently what had been occurring here at home, though...Something...Felt different about her sister, something that she couldn't quite put her finger on. It was something...Horribly familiar, but for the life of her couldn't figure out what exactly it was. There was a time and place for it, now wasn't that time. Her frown deepened at the abrupt flinch underneath her hand, eyes cracking open. Good God in heaven...What had happened to her? She watched the girl in a careful manner, struggling to keep her expression as unreadable as possible. Even that was difficult, especially for something like this. Watching her sister's expression immediately changing at her sight; that mix of terror as if she had seen a ghost, grief, and...Relief possibly? When arms wrapped around her, feeling that trembling form shaking against her own, her arms wrapped tightly around her sister in return into a firm hug. She had begun to slightly shake herself, raising one hand to gently pet at her hair. "Of course I'm alive...Do you truly believe that I would allow Death's hand to take me so easily?" She asked with a faint hint of a chuckle, though...She did wonder how she had managed to survive through that ordeal. That didn't matter now. All that mattered now is that her sister needed to be taken care of. No such thing as you lost it all
God knows even angels fall
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Post by Venezuela on Oct 6, 2011 16:22:50 GMT -6
Real is good? It's not so;
I hesitate away, I'm still a coward
___________________ She didn't say a thing. Didn't move an inch; all she did was cling tightly to her sister, never letting go, as though afraid that this was a mirage or a trick of her eyes. It was too good to be true -- right when she was needed, her sister returned. Alma couldn't believe it. Couldn't or possibly refused to. When she'd died, it seemed as though the entire world stopped turning and focused on Argentina. The world mourned for Evita Duarte de Peron, more loved than her powerful husband by the lower classes. It seemed as though no one else would replace her. And in the minds and hearts of many, Alma included, no one ever did. She had to keep her mind in the present. As someone she knew would say, she had to put her past behind her. Clenching and unclenching her hands, she peeked up at her sister. Copper eyes wide. "Of course I'm alive...Do you truly believe that I would allow Death's hand to take me so easily?"The Venezuelan didn't say a word at first, still shuddering, trying to calm her breath. She was there, she was there, and there was nothing to make it any worse. "Well, no... But... You d - died." She still hesitated over the word, shuddering, breath evening out. "Eva, you... Have no idea how happy I am to see you."Over a contract, we speak - I'm sinking down again
You've got me and it's in you where I'll always end
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Post by Argentina on Oct 6, 2011 19:27:55 GMT -6
Floating above the wave, drifts away a little wish
That holds all of my tears and my regret
__________________ Eva remained silent for a few moments, just continuing to hold her younger sister as they both slowly began to sway from side to side. The tightening of her stomach only continued to grow worse when she felt fingers clutching at the back of her blouse. Even though she was so happy, so truly happy to see her sister...Being back in the country, back to her old home made her begin to think of things that she hadn't let her self think of since that day. The day when she woke from the sleep of Death to find herself in a warm bed, in a home that she hadn't thought that she would ever see again. It was when Alma had begun to speak in that quiet stammer, "Well, no... But... You d - died."Her fingers clutched tightly her sister's own clothes at her words, eyes closing. Alma was right...She had passed on. She had felt Death's cold hand take her last breath those years ago, exhaustion. Overwork. She had pushed herself to much, and paid the ultimate price. She hadn't much time, she knew that. She had taken on the persona of a human, done so much that she had come to regret despite knowing it to be of the absolute necessity. All of their homes were in shambles, dictatorships and violence. Death and destruction... She remembered when she had made her decision as clear as a bell, even though she herself had been forced to go into hiding for her own protection, she couldn't allow herself to stay in the shadows any longer and continue to allow what was occurring to happen any longer. She had to pretend to be an ordinary woman, use whatever means necessary to rise to where she had needed to be in order to achieve anything. Even though it had meant doing so many things that she wished that she didn't have to resort to doing. All of that didn't matter once she had gotten there. To bring her home out of the dire poverty that had struck it, to give that little bit of hope back to her descamisados as she had done in the old days when she had much more freedom to actually be able to help her people without having to resort to such measures as she had taken. And she had. The economy had begun to thrive, her country's condition had stabilized for the most part, the lower classes had finally been getting the attention they had so rightly needed and deserved again. So much had been accomplished once she was where she had needed to be, however...It hadn't lasted long, only those short seven years. Her body had begun to slowly break down in the final couple of years, until she no longer could fight to remain alive any longer. For forty years, she had remained in England. She had been nursed back to health, kept in the dark on what had been occurring in the years that she had remained there. Thinking on it now...It was for the best. If she had known what had been occurring, she would have tried to rush home to the once again impending death that was waiting with open arms and callous smiles. Even now that she was home, the war-torn scars were very present. Even though the civil wars had ended, the effects were clear. Her younger sister was proof of that, and she couldn't be here to protect her or any of them. That didn't matter now. She was home at last. "I know I had died hermana...I still do not know how I had managed to survive, but I did and I am home now." Her voice was quiet as she spoke, holding a quiver to it now. "You...I am so happy to see you. Hermana he ec-echado tanto de m-menos."I will never forget what I have done
That lead to your own death
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