Nobody notices you, you know...
"Shut up..."
You could disappear right now, and no one would even give a damn...
"T-That's not true."
Come on... you know it is-- look at them; yelling and laughing... are you ever included? Ever called on?
"..." he looked down at his papers, busying himself with straightening them out. The little voice in the back of his head had only gotten louder; gotten stronger, since the meeting started. It was their biggest month, of course. We're they meet almost every day, discussing politics and social standings. Each person got a chance to state where they were, how they were doing, and what they planned on doing next.
Except for Matthew Williams.
As the personification of Canada, the second largest country in the world, topped only by Russia, you would think he'd be more noticed.
But he wasn't.
Why?
He was just as strong as any of them-- his physically strength rivaled America's... He was fast, and cunning. Oh so very cunning-- when it came to war HE was the one that came up with battle strategies. New ways to fight-- to WIN.
But he was never credited for his work; for his BLOOD.
....You could prove them all wrong, you know-- show them just how terrifying you can be....
Matthew tried to ignore that little voice; shaking his head-- he knew a few people noticed... He knew Ludwig was still quiet weary of being near him. Even though the younger German brother often forgot his name he remembered his face-- remembered how deadly it had been in the World Wars. How much fighting the blonde had gone through.
He remembered the beaches; D-Day.
Papa had been in trouble; France was being invaded and it had been him, Alfred, and England that had gotten to the front first; their men gunned down before they even got out of the water.
And yet;
It was Matthew whom had gotten the furthest. Where Alfred and Arthur's men got held back and they withdrew Matthew had charged ahead; pushing his way though the bullets and the blood. He'd secured his front-- he'd liberated France; he'd saved Netherlands.
He'd DIED on that beach.
Stomach blown out by a hand grenade. He remembered laying in the sand, blood pouring out of him and how much PAIN he had been in; how much it had HURT-- but he was happy. He'd done what he'd came to do-- he'd saved his papa.
And Francis forgot it had been him.
When he woke up; weeks later in his bed; no one remembered him being in the battle.
He'd cried. Cried for hours and then-- he screamed. He screamed and screamed and screamed. Throwing things around the room, breaking vases, smashing windows. Anything to create some kind of noise in the silent house.
Why?
Why, why, why?!
Could he bleed no more for them?
Did they want more of his blood, more of his people? His countrymen had DIED that day-- fought harder than either England and America's men and they were forgotten.
HE was forgotten.
He didn't notice the chatter around him; or how his hand had tightened around his glass of water until it shattered, cutting his hand and spilling water all over himself and his paperwork, along with America's.
"Dude! Mattie; not cool! I spent all night writing those!"
The Canadian's bloody fingers twitched. He'd cut his hand pretty badly and all Alfred could think about was his barely legabile notes scribbled with hero's and doodles?
"...I'm sorry Alfred... next time I break a glass I'll be sure to do it over your head, oui...?" he stood up then, glaring at the larger blonde with eyes that were no longer an innocent purple hue but a blood thirsty red.
"D-Dude... Mattie... Are you okay?" Alfred had never seen the Canadian like this before; and never had felt so threatened by him-- not even when he'd burned down the White House. He found himself stepping back as the bickering and arguing around him stopped.
So... Now they noticed, huh?
He grinned; but it was anything from pleasant as he stepped towards he American. "Perfectly fine America-- why wouldn't I be...?" he had the American backed up against the wall now and was staring down at him, face twisted into a smirk. "...Though; I do say I find your voice rather annoying... Why don't you shut up for once, eh?"
He turned, addressing them all now. "In fact-- why don't you all just shut up?"
