Small hands grasped for something to hold onto as the light got further and further away.

Well, this wasn't how he had planned to go down at all; he had imagined something grand and emotional, not this. He was alone, truly alone, no-on there to hold him whilst he slipped away, no-one there to whisper final words to in the silence of the looming air of grief to come, merely a young boy slouched over a not-yet dry painting, wishing the pain away.

He discovered the beauty within everything, in normal circumstances, but not here. The world seemed such a bright and beautiful place whilst you could experience the positives, but once it was fading and you were overwhelmed by a bright, burning sensation there was not so much as a scrap of life to cherish or hold onto, not like this, anyway.

And, despite all odds, he smiled. Smiled at the irony of an uncaring world passing by as he began to leave, smiled despite the pain in a final hollow effort to remain strong in a world that told him that, that was all he could ever do, all he would ever be able to achieve, because yeah, life sucked, life was full of pain, of loss, of grieving but that was all you were ever going to get, so you had to find a way to deal with it. He smiled at his vain attempts to hold onto beliefs even through his passing, when everything seemed dull and unworthy of effort, and with this smile came more hidden pain.

He remembered his friends, the ones who had cared despite his quirks, for they were all out-casts, and they were freaks. From over-enthusiastic children passed around as if their lives meant nothing, to young adults acting cold to shield themselves from ridicule and thus becoming more isolated, but not to their fellow out-casts. Because you hold onto your own kind, right? You hold onto something you can relate to, a small group of individuals deciding to stand up despite the odds and not only to survive, but to thrive in their own strange ways in a world that was against them in all ways, to thrive... He smiled again, the thought completely contradicting his current situation.

...

But, ah, he didn't have much time left, as time stops for no-one, ever going.

Tick, tock... Tick, tock...

But still he found himself pondering. The loss of his status as a micronation shouldn't have brought this on, it shouldn't have been like this. He'd witnessed changing's of status before of his kind and it had never ended like this, they'd always reverted back to human status. So why now? Why now, in this empty room save for one dying soul, did he have to be different?

Tick, tock... Tick, tock...

As his frail being grew weaker and weaker he scrawled out a dramatic good bye note with a shaky hand, hoping this would replace the story-book passing he had believed would occur. He thanked his senior, Austria, for all he had done for him over the years, he thanked his friends for being there, he thanked his creator for giving him the chance to be alive, even for this short while, and he trailed off when his hand grew too shaky to write anymore. And so, his last thought before he settled into a final slumber happened to be a disapproval of the state of his paint-covered clothes, the epitome of this lonely, realistic death. He only wished in the next life that he would cherish what he had whilst he could.

Tick, tock... Tick, tock...