HetaOni: Sight

"I never thought I would envy people who can't "See" so badly."
What was I thinking? Why did I say that? Why was I so stupid? Why did I put that bait out for fate to grab? Why did I jinx myself to this curse of eternal blackness?
How I wish I could see anything at all now. America's obnoxious grin. Canada clutching that polar bear of his in shyness. Italy's curl bouncing up and down as he runs. Heck, I'd even put up with having to look at France if it meant I could escape this shroud of darkness!
But it's too late. My cards have been dealt, and fate has been sealed. My irises are forever clouded; my vision the same whether I close my eyes or open them. All I can do now is attempt to hear the things I miss, try to pick up the clues my surroundings leave me.
And hear things I do.
The trembling in America's voice when he talks to me, as if he's about to burst out into apologies that aren't his to make. Canada's quiet voice asking me if I need anything. France stepping up to his role of "big brother", assuring others and for what is possibly the very first time in his life refraining from making perverted comments.
The silence that fills the air from the lack of Italy's voice.
Is he dead? I don't know. Germany said that his heart stopped beating, that air no longer flows through his lungs.
Both of those facts are true. Still, weirder things have happened in this place. Maybe, just maybe, he's not dead. Maybe we're wrong. Maybe he'll surprise us all and come back from wherever he is now.
I hope he does. No one should have to die in this hell. This place shouldn't be a grave, least of all for someone who's been as brave as Italy has.
If he does, however, he will probably insist to go back in time, to save me from myself. I won't let him. I can't. My decision to fight the Thing was my own stupid decision; the rails were laid down, and I followed them. My darkness is my cross to bear now, no one else's. He should not go through the pain he's been through all over again solely to fix the curse I brought down on myself.
America, America. Why didn't I listen to you? Why did I try to take over your role of the hero? I'm so sorry, America. I'm so, so sorry. I wish I hadn't let my pride in the way. I wish I'd stay out of the annex. I wish I'd shoved my arrogance aside, my stupid thinking that I was strong enough to handle anything.
I was wrong. I was so, so wrong. And I paid the price.
'Pride comes before a fall.' I fell, all right. I came crashing down from the lofty pedestal I'd set myself up on. I hit rock bottom and shattered.
Now all I can do is hope that my mistakes will not ruin the lives of everyone else here. That I haven't destroyed our chances for survival.
We can still make it. We still have a chance. What we'll do next, I don't know. But we can still make it out of this hellhole.
I may be blind, but I can still see hope.