Hetalia oneshots.

Norway x Depressed Bullied Reader

Why? Why does life have to make me suffer? I walk along the old, dirt road, counting the steps it would take for me to get to my place of solace. A place where I would pretend to be free, where I would pretend that no matter what I was going to be okay. The truth is I wasn't. I was never going to be okay again. With school and the 'social media', I don't think I can take anymore of humanities cruelty. I am weak. I am pathetic, useless and completely worthless. Someone could tell me to stand beside a pile of mud; tell others to stand next to whatever was the better and everyone would go to the mud. So I walk to the only place that I am understood. My room is my life. The walls listen, the little air particles won't ever ignore me and the carpet won't ever leave me. It's not like I have parents to go to with my issues either. They're long gone now. I was an only child, so I don't have no siblings to run to.

I've tried to change. I really have; but in all reality it's just useless. I will never be good enough for anyone. That's why my parents committed suicide together, it has to be! They didn't want to have to deal with a good-for-nothing child like me. I can't blame them. I wouldn't want to put up with me either. I don't mind living alone, it's calm. Peaceful. I can just cry and let it all out without someone coming in and asking what's wrong. Like I said, I'm weak. There are so much more issues in the world, and I'm sat there sobbing over being bullied. God, I'm so selfish aren't I? Just another word to add to my list of things I am. Things that I have been called thousands upon thousands of times. The thing is that no matter how hard I try, I can never be like those other beautiful girls. I'm too fat, I'm too quiet, I'm too awkward and I'm not good enough. 

Even with all the scars on my wrists and legs, it's not enough. The physical pain isn't enough to drown out the emotional pain. I can't even remember how this all started in the first place. I don't understand why it had to be me. I'm lost in a never ending maze, and it keeps throwing obstacles in my way until I just give up and lay down. I don't even know why I keep trying. I just need someone to help me. Ah, who am I kidding? I don't deserve help! I don't deserve kindness, I don't deserve freedom, I don't deserve to be happy. I just hope that one day I'll have the courage to finally make it end. To just die. It sounds like it's a bird's song in a dead place. Like a breath of air when you've been choked your entire life. Just imagine how wonderful that would be! To just... leave everything behind. To just leave behind the horror's of life. Death is inevitable. We all die eventually. So what's the difference between just dying and committing suicide?

~Timeskip to School~

I walk with my head down. I try to avoid the stares, the whispers, but it's becoming so difficult. How can it be easy when everyone around you is sneering in disgust? There are literally only about 3 people that aren't glaring at me or ignoring me. And that's because they are dealing with their own bullies. I feel rage and protectiveness overcome any other feeling in my body. How dare they bully those people? How dare they bully people that are perfectly fine in every way? I storm over blindly and pull on the tallest bullies arm, making him hit me instead of the cowering little boy. "Leave them alone Ivan," I growl. I'm surprised at how strong I sound. I normally sound weak. The bullies chuckle and one pulls my hair, harshly pulling me to face him. "Aww would you prefer it if we beat you up little girl?" He asks in a babyish voice. I glare at the floor. Turning my glare on him.

"Yes." Then they all crowd around me and start to hurt me. Punches, kicks, throws against the wall? You name it, they do it. The pain is excruciating, especially when they hit my arms or legs, that's where the freshest cuts are. But then it stops. They stop yelling profanities in my direction, they stop hitting me. "Are you okay?" A monotone voice asks me. I don't look up. I'm too afraid. If I look at him, he will hurt me too, I'm sure of it! So I just keep my head down and nod. I see a pale hand come into my vision. My eyes flicker up for just a second, but that's all it takes to realise that this person is Lukas Bondevik, one of the smartest boys in school. I take his hand cautiously, pulling myself up. Unbeknownst to me, my long sleeved f/c t-shirt's sleeves rolled down, showing off a few of my ugly scars. Lukas grabs my wrist tightly and pulls me away from the lockers. 

He shoves me outside and I whimper, expecting the worst. "I-I'm sorry. P-Please don't hit me!" I cry out, falling to my knees and practically begging him. "I'm not going to hurt you." He replies calmly, in his monotone voice. "I just want to know why." I look up again, meeting his violet-blue eyes with my own e/c ones. "Why what?" I ask him, pretending that I don't know what he's talking about. Either he found out about my scars, or he is asking why they were hurting me. I don't have an answer to either questions. "Why are you hurting yourself?" I feel my heart beat faster. I stay silent. I don't know how to answer, I can't answer even if I knew how! The words are just sticking in my throat. "I ASKED YOU A QUESTION SO ANSWER IT! WHY ARE YOU HURTING YOURSELF Y/N?" He yells suddenly. I whimper and back away from him, I'm so afraid.

The words that I always wanted to say come pouring out. "Because what's the point in living when all you have left to live for is misery?" This makes him cease his actions, looking down at me with an almost pitiful look. "You really think that?" I nod to his question, I do think that. "What if one day you cut too deep and you die, huh? What happens then?" I roll my eyes. For someone so smart he really is acting stupid. "I die and everyone forgets of my existence." My answer is blunt. No words are said for a while, we both just stay there on the school play-ground in silence. "I wouldn't forget." I look up at him again. His face is turned away from my direction, but I swear I can see a few tears fall down his cheeks. "Huh? Of course you would! I'm not of any use to you anyway." His head snaps in my direction. "I couldn't forget you. If I can't get you out of my head now, then I won't ever be able to forget you if you die. If anything, I would die too."

Now I'm just confused, what is he talking about. "Listen, it may feel like no one would care if you just died one day, but I would. I love you Y/n. I'm sorry that I couldn't say so before." I scoff at his words. Loves me? As if! No one can love me, I don't deserve love! He notices my disbelieving expression, takes one of my heavily scarred wrists and presses feathery light kisses to each one. "Despite what you believe, I do love you. You're beautiful, you're smart, you're selfless and you're forgiving. I don't see how anyone couldn't fall in love with you." The blush on my cheeks is noticeable now, very noticeable. They are bright red, standing out against my s/c skin. He brings his hand to my cheek in a sweet caress. It feels foreign, magical for some reason. Sparks seem to emit from his fingertips, spreading all over my face until a burning passion builds up. "Jeg elsker dig," He whispers.

I know Norwegian so I respond in his language. "Jeg elsker dig også Lukas. But if you're just-" Lukas cuts me off by pressing his cold, but admittedly soft, lips to mine. Our lips move together like waves upon a shore, his hands move, one resting on the small of my back and the other on my neck, bringing me closer to him. We are only interrupted by the need for oxygen, and even then, he continues to hold me, like he never wants to let go, like he wants to just hold me like that forever. 

Life may want me to suffer, but Lukas will always be there with me to fight life.