WonderfullySarcastic

My stomach hit the floor, as if everything in my gut had just been sucked out. My knees started to shake, losing the power to keep me standing up straight. I had to lean haphazardly against the wall for support, my breath catching in my throat. I feverishly hit redial, over and over and over again, trying to apologize for my obscene behaviour, but the line rung once before the answering machine. I tried and tried, not yet figuring out that it was futile to do so. Leaving a message wouldn't do anything, I needed to be able to talk to him to explain! "Why won't it work!?" I almost cried, my head filling with the graphic images of what Russia&

I chewed on one of the wurstI had made for Italy as I walked back to my room, he could survive with one less. He thinks they're horrible anyway, so it won't be that much of a loss. I really do hate how he always criticizes my food, it's better than England's and I don't make things like Russia. I would consider myself a decent cook! I was going to make him pasta, but the mental image of tomato sauce all over my bed was too hard to shake. I ended up with wurst, it was stocked, simple and I could make it with my eyes closed. I shoved the rest of the wurst I had been eating into my mouth, pausing for a moment by my door. Once I heard Italy's

My stomach hit the floor, as if everything in my gut had just been sucked out. My knees started to shake, losing the power to keep me standing up straight. I had to lean haphazardly against the wall for support, my breath catching in my throat. I feverishly hit redial, over and over and over again, trying to apologize for my obscene behaviour, but the line rung once before the answering machine. I tried and tried, not yet figuring out that it was futile to do so. Leaving a message wouldn't do anything, I needed to be able to talk to him to explain! "Why won't it work!?" I almost cried, my head filling with the graphic images of what Russia&