(A/n):Requested by Insane_Pyromaniac , really hope you like it :)
2p England-Oliver Kirkland
(Y/n)-Your name
(F/c)-Favourite colour
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~(Y/n)'s P.O.V.
"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE YOU USELESS CHILD!" I hear my father yell as he throws me onto the streets
I land on the concrete of the pathway which scratches my leg, not that it really hurts anymore. He slams the door and I burst into tears.
He caught me cutting again, right after he found my math test with a D on it. He decided I was worth his time if I couldn't get into a well paying job like a doctor or lawyer.
My mum died a few years ago in an accident with my father. He was driving, I knew because I saw them drive away but he lied and said she drove. After she died he became abusive and curl, never sexually, just physically and mentally.
I developed a mild form of depression about a year after my mother died because I felt lonely and I had no one to talk to. The people at school lays bullied me and told me to kill my self. My grades dropped and I couldn't even talk to the school therapist because I was scared she would get tired of my issues.
My depression became more serious and I barley slept or ate anymore. I began to cut because it's the only way I can release my pain and frustrations without causing anyone else trouble. My father caught me a few times but didn't try to get me help, instead he made fun of me and took away my phone and laptop, meaning I couldn't do schoolwork.
Finally the straw that broke the camels back was him walking in on me today, with a failed math test in his hand, a beer bottle in the other. I was standing over the sink, my (f/c) jumper rolled up to my elbows and dragging a razor over my already cut skin.
He threw me out and slammed the door in my face which is where I am now, on the pavement bleeding anymore. I dry my tears and stand up, pushing my sleeves down my arms to hide my scars and open wounds.
I heard about a bakery in some news article that people go to and then die shortly after, although they had no proof so they couldn't shut it down. It's something like Oliver's Bakery. Maybe I really should just end it all...
*Time skip to an hour later*
(Y/n)'s P.O.V.
After an hour of walking, multiple stares from other people although none came up to me asking if I was ok, or even a tissue to wipe off my dried blood, I finally arrive at the bakery. Luckily it's open so I walk through the door.Inside it's there are pink and white walls, a light blue and pink counter and display case, white chairs and tables, and a few pastel pink and blue booths. There are multiple assortments of cupcakes and cakes in the display case as well as on the shelves. It all looks so delicious. The only thing this bakery is missing is customers.
There's no one in here except me, even the owner isn't here. I walk up to the counter and ring the little bell to get someone's attention.
"Coming poppet!" A British-accented voice calls out from the door way behind the counter
I hear footsteps coming towards me and out comes the most adorable man I have ever seen in my life.
He has short strawberry blond hair, blue eyes with one swirls in them, like icing on a cupcake, a white shirt with a light pink vest, light blue pants and huge eyebrows. He is smiling like the best thing just happened.
YOU ARE READING
Hetalia Oneshots & Lemons
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