Sent To Austria (Otherwise known as living hell...) (A Hetalia Fan Fic)

Prologue

        (Disclaimer: I, sadly, do not own hetalia nor any of its characters. Nor do I own most of the pictures on the side. Wooh! First Hetalia fan fic on Wattpad! Comment/Vote if you like, although this part is kinda depressing...)

        I just couldn't believe it. They were gone, all because of some stupid driver decided to get drunk and be irresponsible. My long brown hair fell into my abnormally amber eyes slightly, as I gazed down at their gravestones, slick with moisture from mist. A few feet away, my little sister's coffin was being lowered into the earth as well. Gone. Such a cruel word, and I never thought it'd apply to her as well. People whispered behind me. 

        "Such a disrespectful girl, not even wearing black at her parent's funeral," One voice whispered rather loudly. It wasn't specifically true. Though I never weared black, I was wearing black elbow gloves and a black choker with an azure stone just for the occasion. Black combat boots as well, but my long, flowing, white silk dress billowed in the gust slightly. It drew all attention away from the black in my outfit.

        "I heard she's inheriting a large sum of money from her parents, " Another voice replied conspiritorially.

        "You don't think-"

        "Yes, yes I do," The two gossips cackled like witches as they left me, standing there. It began to rain, the icy, bullet-like droplets of water stinging against my face. Yet, despite the fact that the rain hurt, I was actually thankful for the storm: it hid the tears I didn't want the snobby rich people- that'd barely associated with my family- to see. I don't know how long I stood there, just staring at their graves, feeling nothing but the agony in my heart, until someone gently led me away. 

*A bit later*

        All the foster care people said to me were legitimately kind sounding words, but, despite how much I wanted to, I felt as though I could never smile again. I just allowed them to usher me off into a room that looked vaguely like the interrogation room from NCIS. There was even a stainless steel metal table and two surprisingly comfortable, identical white wicker chairs on either side of it. I just sat down in one of them and stared at my clenched fists, my nails digging so deeply into the soft flesh of my palm that I could see thin streams of blood running down them.

        "Miss. Alondra Lavendula Westenra?" A feeble, nervous voice asked, and I slowly looked up. A small, mousy woman of maybe forty now sat in the chair across from mine. She was as thin as a popsical stick, with gray streaked, mousy brown hair and soft blue eyes. "What a pretty name," She mumbled, smiling a genuinely reassuring smile at me. "Well then, good news for you," She said shakily. "Your parents left a few things in their will for you. Do you want me to read them?" Numbly, I nodded, eyes unfocused and distant. The woman cleared her throat a few times and then began.

        "'To our dearest, eldest daughter, Alondra. If you are reading this, we are dead and you are not quite old enough to take care of yourself, nor to inherit the sum of money we have left behind for you. We are leaving you in the care of our dear friend, Roderich Edelstein of Austria. He shall take care of you until you are eighteen. 

If I

Emilia Lillian Westenra

do die before my daughter, Alondra Lavendula Westenra, is old enough to take care of herself, say that all custody rights go to my trusted friend, Roderich Edelstein of Austria.

If I,

Roland Arthur Kenneth Westenra,

do die before my daughter, Alondra Lavendula Westenra, is old enough to take care of herself, say that all custody rights go to my trusted friend, Roderich Edelstein of Austria.'"

Those words sealed my fate, and began my misery.