Chapter 1

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This was actually inspired by an rp that I absolutely ADORED (I didn't rp. I just read cuz it was on Instagram) but the rpers never finished it *tears* the one that had the rp picture on it restarted their account, so it was never finished. This was like, half a year ago though.
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One kick
Stop

Two punches
It hurts

Three cries
Help

A cluster of adolescents were surrounding a helpless peer, laughing at his whimpers and yelps and pleas. His arms shielded his head while his body was curled up in a failing attempt at defense.

Nazi Lover

Gay

Faggot

Yaoi Freak

Weaboo

History Wierdo

Cruel remarks and comments confused his own thoughts with lies.  Did anyone know? That he was bullied? That this was a daily event? Yes. They did. They knew, but they didn't care. They didnt help. Why would they? They're lives were great. Why would they want to get into such a mess of a spider's inescapapble web? Even if he talked, they would think of him as a nuisance. A burden. They'd quickly get sick and annoyed of it, and eventually would move on, not even saying a simple Hello whenever they'd see him.

But that was ok. It was always ok. It didn't matter. No matter what happened, it would always be ok. Where was the need to be sad? He had his show, his fan merchandise, his music, his friends..  "A smile will help you through all struggles." An American entertainer named Phyllis Diller once said. Smiling... That always did help. Paint on a smile, show it to everyone, and everyone would know that your ok. That your happy. They knew everything except that you were lying. But that was ok. It was always ok. 

A strong breeze gathered around the group. He still didn't open his eyes though. It was probably just cold, or a storm was on its way without notice. After all, the weather was always crazy with all sorts of fangirling and bending and magic disrupting the place. He was glad they didn't take his beloved bomber's jacket.

His bruises and places that were hurt ached as if they were all inflicted on him at the same time. He couldn't tell if they'd stopped and when home or were still going at it. They normally went home at this time, which was after about 10 minutes of bullying him or some other poor soul. There was a faint but shut out series of punch sounds. It sounded a bit different from what he normally heard. Strange. Eh?

Hetalia

Shit. Were the voices back?

Hetalia

He thought he'd gotten rid of them...

"Hetalia,"

Wait...

He opened his eyes. Confusion immediately took over him.

"..Super... natural?" 

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