Don't Leave Me

Letting It Bleed

Hey. It's been a bit lol. I left this account a long time ago because I had given up on writing. I love to write but stuff was just going crazy and I needed a break. I logged on recently and reread a lot of the stories...oh lord I was an absolute shit writer XD don't get me wrong I'm nothing special now. I such with grammar, but I'd like to think I'm better then I used to be. I decided to edit this story since it's my most popular. I haven't watched Hetalia in a while, but I still wanna try and improve this a bit for my own sanity. I am doing this on my phone, but I'll take the time to look everything over and make sure it's edited to the best of my ability. Enjoy!))

Vibrant and beautiful. That's how I'd describe the blood dripped down my arm and onto the tile floor below. It's almost hypnotic, staring at the cuts as everything I am just falls away. I had made about ten cuts in total, though none of them were new. My arm has no space for new cuts so I just open up old ones. Sadly, I'm never brave enough to cut deep, and even the blood that comes out does so at a slow pace.

A sigh escapes my chapped lips and with my other arm I begin to patch myself up. It's become a routine now, and my body moves on it's own while my head stays in a numb daze. As I wash the blood off my arm in the sink I start debating on if I should move on to cutting my stomach or thighs. Opening up cuts just isn't as satisfying which is probably fucked up but...Well I am fucked up aren't I?

After washing the cuts off I grabbed some band aids and put one on each cut. Ironic that these sponge-bob band aids would be covering up horrible scars. Before I can think more on that though a sharp and desperate knock breaks the silence in my home.

Blinking I pause not quite sure I heard it right. Nobody ever comes to visit me anymore so it's probably just in my head. Satisfied with the answer I nod to myself and walk past the blood on the floor. I should clean it up, and even though it's only a few drops I still can't find the energy to care. The only thing I seem to have energy for is to push my sleeve down so it scraps against the cuts. I tell myself I do it to cover the cuts but...Lord knows I'm the best at lying to myself.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Again the sharp knocking echos through the house. Okay definitely not my imagination. Cool. Well, maybe it's just someone dropping off a package I have to sign for...Or something as innocent as that.

Not to worried about my messy appearance or the chaotic looking house, I approach the door. Swinging it open my eyes widen at the sight before me.

Golden blonde hair, a green uniform, giant ass eyebrows...Why is England here?

"Uhm...Hi?" I spoke cocking my head to the side in confusion.

"Hello Alfred. Can I come in?" England asked slowly looking me up and down. His eye brows crinkled as he frowned at my appearance.

Why the hell is he here? I haven't talked to him outside of a meeting since World War II! The few times we have spoken at a meeting have been...less then pleasant. Well fuck, what do I say? My first instinct is to say no, but by how he is already leaning forward to peer inside I can tell he will argue. If I let him in though then I'll have to deal with all his nagging and him telling me how much of a disappointment I am and I don't know if I can handle that right now.

"Sure. Take your time. It's not like I'm freezing out here." He grumbled stuffing his hands into his pockets. As he spoke a cold fall wind blew by ruffling the fallen leaves scattering my yard.