Wailing Wall: Europe

[America]

The remains of the Berlin Wall still stand as a cold reminder of war, now while once being as an instrument of separation it now serves as Europe's own Wailing Wall.

Write your testimonies on the wall or your fears, regrets, anxieties, etc. on a piece of paper and place them in the wall.

[doitsu]

It was somewhere between eleven o'clock and one in the morning as Ludwig strolled through the quiet streets on the outskirts of Berlin. Honestly... he avoided this particular place. The memories here were just a little bit too fresh.

But he was here for a specific reason this time. He had really put it off for far too long.

As he strolled along the road, he spotted what he was looking for - a place where the old concrete and steel wall was still mostly standing. A place that had seen many things, and a place where people came to this day to share their joys, grievances, fears. Letters and notes, written in neat letters, a child's scrawl, or even typed, some with trinkets or pictures (professional pictures, newspaper clippings, portraits of families drawn in crayon) attached, were scattered across the expanse of crumbling stone that still stood as a testament of everything that humanity is, was, and could be.

Approaching the wall, Ludwig stopped, ice-blue eyes scanning the wall, letting what words reach him that would reach him (confessions of love, guilt, mistakes made that couldn't be taken back but couldn't be shared... stories of loneliness and regret, of happiness and joy, stories of life... the stories of his people, and of himself). He just looked at the wall, thinking but trying not to think too deeply.

After a long moment, he sighed slightly and pulled an envelope out of his pocket. He turned the parchment packet over in his hands, just looking at it, inspecting it from every angle just to procrastinate.

He stared at the wax seal he had placed over the opening flap.

He stared back at the wall.

He shoved the letter back in his pocket and turned on his heel, hands in his pockets.

Another day, perhaps. He wasn't quite ready to let go.

[Austria]

Walking along the wall, or what remained of it, Austria clutched his coat tighter with one hand as he gently ran his other hand through the wall as he continued walking along. It wasn't so much the crevices, really. It was more of a moment of contemplation, on how he himself played some part in the building of this wall.

And, in his mind, the way history unraveled was what caused this wall to be built. As he peered at the various trinkets and papers attached or slipped into or onto the wall, violet eyes filled with unspoken emotion glinted behind glasses. But of course, he managed to keep whatever it was he was feeling inside; tears have long been frozen into his heart. He couldn't even muster the will to cry anymore, even when he wanted to, even when he had to. His tears had dried up, and he was incapable of showing sadness. He was incapable of showing feelings, ever since that time.

And he had many regrets. Far too many regrets to be written down on paper, then stuffed inside a crevice. He had far too many lamentations, wishes that could never be fulfilled.

And... if he could only turn back time, maybe he could correct the wrongs he had done, maybe this wall wouldn't even be here. He knew it wasn't only his rash decisions that contributed to why the world is what it is today, but he still couldn't help but blame himself most of the time for the disaster and chaos WWII has unleashed upon the world.

His regrets about his actions in WWII alone would fill up the wall. There were so many things that he could have done, or he couldn't have done, in order to stop the situation from advancing like it did. But he didn't do them. And to this day, nightmares about his wrong decisions back them still haunts him.

And because... because he couldn't bring himself to list down every single thing he regretted lest he killed himself, he produced a small slip of paper from inside his coat pocket. A small, single, slip of paper, with but one line of text written on it.

"I'm sorry. For everything."

This piece of paper he then slipped into a small, unnoticeable crevice he found inside the wall, then turning his back, he walked towards the direction of home, blending into the crowd that was walking away from the wall.

But then again... where is home...?

[republikoslietuva]

"Lietuva, come on. There are things which must be done." He hated it when they called him that. Closing pale green eyes, he moved with the crowd, heading towards the Wailing Wall of Europe. It was hard for him to go there, in this intermission between the ownership of his own country, hand clutched around tiny pieces of paper. Writing these secrets and regrets had helped him get through the long days of torture, of hell that had been living through the Russian Regime. He was about to go over to America for the second time, and before he did so, the brunette wanted the air to be clear, wanted his heart…less heavy.

Being called Lietuva reminded him of the man he was escaping. Knowing that was a relief, but nonetheless, Lithuania was worried. Who knew what would happen with Russia while he was gone? Especially….who knew what would happen to his brothers. Always one to think about his brothers or others, the young country rarely thought about himself, and the only reason he had even come back was to check on his brothers. Now, he needed to go home. When the Wall showed itself in his sight, his eyes watered slightly. Those notes were clutched even tighter, and once he found the place to deposit….in fluttered the first note.
_____________________________________________________________

Secret 1: I really wonder if I should have taken his hand that day. If doing so wasn't the biggest mistake of my life. I could only help him so much. He was insane, he really was, and despite all of that….I would take his hand again to save their lives. I know he's not the bad guy. He's been through hell and back, but…..I don't even know myself anymore.

It was true. His memory of that day was clear as crystal. It had been snowing, hard, hard enough that he could barely shuffle through the white powder. His pale green eyes squinted through the flurry, and had it not been for himself nearly tripping over the colossal nation, who, for some reason, had been sitting in the snow. Looking at the man who was hunched over in the snow, Lithuania watched him for a moment. He was sad….and….seemed almost…..insane. It was the sadness that got to him, though, and the look of utter brokenness upon his face. Kneeling, he remembered asking if the other was alright, only to receive a look. Offering his hand, the Lithuanian smiled and said, "Let me help you. I think I can."

When the Russian took his hand, that was what began the years of tears, of pain, of torture….and of happiness. Toris found that despite his shortcomings, he'd become a councilor, and source of grief-outlet for Ivan. He really didn't mind at all, since it kept Raivis and Eduard out of trouble, and out of harms reach from the often violent elder. Sighing at the memory, he watched as the piece of paper landed, and then his hand touched the second one. The second one didn't flutter like the prior. This one, the Lithuanian gently placed in the box, a ginger touch.
________________________________________________________________

Secret 2: I wish I had stayed in the days when gold fields and a best friend were what I had. I wish I could go back to the days when I didn't have to worry about others, and could just be happy with him.

Poland. The valley girl male that he had fallen in love with so long ago. He treated him like gold, and the Lithuanian enjoyed spending time in the fields, talking, braiding flower crowns for the other. They had loved and taught, treated each other so nicely. He remembered laying in the field, laughing about something stupid that had happened only the day before. They'd been side-by-side since they were children, after all. It was only as natural as breathing. It made the Commonwealth they entered into that much easier. Their people loved each of the Countries, and the countries loved each other. Liet relied on Poland, just as much as Poland relied on him.

That was why, when everything fell to shit, and he was left with the ashen haired Russian….he withdrew. Decided being alone was better than being in love. Every time he would hear Poland's voice on the phone, it would kill him a bit. Only because there was that other sitting in another part of the world.... He couldn't stand it some nights, and would curl into himself on his bed, and just cry. Letting himself cry.....For the sake of what he'd lost.
________________________________________________________________

Secret 3: There are days I wonder what would happen, if I just said 'fuck you all', and looked out for myself for once in my life. I've never done that before, and sometimes I wonder if it's time I did....

Since when HAD he ever really thought for himself? It seemed that the answer was never. First, he'd always been looking out for Feliks, making sure the other was safe, in the battle of Grunwald, then when peace came about, making sure that the other was safe in their times of peace. Then it was his Brothers and Ivan. Yes, Ivan. He'd been looking out for the other, by living with him, as little as the others knew it. It wasn't JUST by force. Sure, he was terrified of the larger...but at the same time...Ivan had needed him. Just like Raivis and Eduard had. He took care of each in turn, and it seemed that everything was just given from him, to everyone else. ALWAYS.

Quietly, he endured taking care of the American too. Sure, that changed over time, but when he'd been shipped over...that was just how it was. Just another person for him to take care of. It hurt inside, it really did. He never had a moment to think for himself, always 'yes sir' 'no sir', doing what everyone else wanted. In his moments of remembering, he'd go into the back yard, and practice martial arts, the fluidity of the motions calming his raging mind. There was more bottled up behind that passive face, than anyone would ever truly understand.....honestly, he wondered why he didn't show it....
________________________________________________________________

"Lietuva! We're going to miss the flight! Come on!" Sighing softly, the brunette let each secret flutter into the wall, like little weights lifting off his chest. There was so much more he had to say, but the man supposed it had to wait, "Atsiminti mano paslaptis. Prisiminkite, kaip sunku man teko bandyti slėpti, kas buvo per mano protas."** He whispered, before turning away, leaving the crumbling Berlin Wall behind him.....maybe for the last time.

**Translation: Remember my secrets. Remember how hard I had to try to hide what went through my mind.