Russia's Birthdays

When had he stopped bothering? Every other nation threw a lavish, lavish party for their birthdays, ones that were so grand, filled with sweets and presents, celebrations and joyous times. Birthdays, every nation had them--even if they did change from time to time... But... Russia didn't remember the last time he had had a happy birthday. The only reason he remembered it in general, was that the glaring calander displayed it so to his eyes.

December 30th now, his birthday. Yet, nobody cared. He had, years ago, bothered to plan a party, but of course no one had come. The other nations had just ignored his invitations, so, of course, he drank. It... was hurtful that no one would bother to come, ever. He was of course disheartened, and cried over the matter more than once. The loneliness his own birthday caused him shouldn't be, considering the fact that it was supposed to be a grand, happy day.

Though, even if there were others in this house, they had all left for the day. Every year they did this--disappeared on his birthday. His own sisters didn't even bother to celebrate with him any more... They hadn't since they were all Kiev Rus, back so long ago.

Another burn of vodka went down his throat, the comforting liquid, the Russian water burned deeply. It was familiar, a needy thing as he greedily drank down drops and falls of that delicious substance. Something that took his pain away, something that made him happy. He was more than content to drown his loneliness away with everything else, with a bottle of vodka.

He didn't even really remember a time he hadn't been drinking, now. The loneliness, even in a household full of people, was too much.

Yet, the last time he hadn't been was when he was nothing but a mere child, with his sisters in the frozen cold. Even Winter had been kinder to them back then, not now.

"Happy birthday." He said to himself, a smile to his face, the plastic feature to his face staying as he drowned himself in bottles and bottles of vodka. It taking so much of this weaker proof to get that buzz through his head. The thing that stopped him from thinking of the bad things.

He really hated those bad things, those memories that were always looming in the back of his mind. Those horrible things that had happened. His people slaughtering each other, the death of his Imperial Family, Revolutions, and of course invasions. Winter's onslaught every year only added to his misery. All he wanted was simple, just a simple wish. The one he had wished for for so many centuries, and never getting that secret he had only told to one other.

He wanted to live with everyone, in a warm field of sunflowers.

So, a fire was lit before him, and well, it was a tradition to wish. That one, of blowing out the candles was rather appealing, don't you agree? He placed a little twig at the end of the fire, and lit it. Looking at that thing burn for a moment, and with ease he blew it out. Then, the wish was made, and the little twig tossed back in to burn fully in those dancing flames.

"Will it come true this year?" He asked, to the walls.

Of course not. Why would he ever get a wish granted?

Charan-Amaya: Yeah, this is a multi-chapter fic. This one's the Soviet Union, kay?