Alright, it's my first time making a Hetalia story...oh well! Take it away Prussia! Just kidding, go back to your corner of shame. Nobody loves you. Just kidding come back. But don't get too close. Hey, what did I say about touching!? The hair is a no-no, Hun-Hun. Don't eat it either.

Being the (one of the) only girl(s) in an Academy that is ruled by drooly boys can be...mind blowing, and can cause you to be paranoid. And have nightmares after being notified she would be going to this Academy 3 months before she actually attended.

The only way to lie a girl who is not very pliable to new environments is if you trick her into believing that the academy is filled with sophisticated boys, with polished attitudes and teeth brighter than the sun.

Thanks Mom. For lying.

Our little babushka-kin is Maddie Williams. She's pure Canadian, she's got aboot in her blood and doesn't say much. Her appearance and characteristics gives off the vibe that she's not too social. Her long light maple syrup wavy that reaches her elbows in two high pigtails, glasses that are almost too big for her innocent, violet eyes. Two pins of maple leaves that pulls away bangs to keep her eyes open. A beret that sits on her head like a mushroom, and smile that nobody bothers look at.

She never smiles. If anything, it began pointless to a point that if the world can only see through her, then she can only confirm that she's not worth anything. Less than half a cent even.

(•ω•)

A nice, lean teacher kindly led her through the unfamiliar halls that echoed silent voices of people in her age set. They were silent, too muffled, too suspicious yet unostentatious. She feels deep down in the depths of the oceans that there is a friend waiting for her, a sign of light. To swept her off her feet and can look into her eyes.

But for now, she prays that one person could look at her in the eyes for 5 seconds.

She enters the classroom, pulling down her maroon/yellow plaid as far as she can tug (which covers only half of her thighs). She inhaled as much oxygen she can contain in her lungs. She exhales as enters the classroom, nearly tripping over her own shoes. She glances over at the class and gasps. The blood never ran faster through her cheeks.

There are so many weird boys! There's a boy with ten thousand eyebrows on his face, she's wondering how his face can carry that many pounds. There's another one with white hair, and nobody points out how weird that he's playing with a chick the size of his fist. Is he an albino? Another is a bisexual that's always carrying around a rose in his mouth, tiny blood drips from his mouths. There's a strange boy with silver hair, very very tall. He seemed nice until she notices the blood that drips from his ankles and drains out through his shoes.

"A girl!" One exclaimed.

The silence never pierced her ears so hard. She never heard a room go quiet just because of her.

She closed her eyes for the sake of embarrassment. The different voices came as follows:

"(English accent) Yes, we see that, Al! We're not blind like you!"

"(Obnoxiously) Igno' dis gie! He only wants to see unda yo'r skirt! BWAHAHA!"

"Shut up, dude! That's totally not true!"

"(French accent) Now now, boys. There's nothing wrong with skirts, it simply implies that you are interested."

"(Russian accent) Magic metal pipe of pain!"

"Dear God NOOO!"

"Tee hee."

She looks up, the front row. She saw something blue. Very blue. It sparkled.

It was...eyes. Blue blue eyes. She squeaks as she stares back at it as she attempts to furrow her eyebrows, to show her mean mean side. Blonde hair. Significant, little strand sticking out like a crescent moon. Blonde bangs that covers his eyebrow. Glasses that lacked knowledge.

She never realized that her feet carried her out of the classroom. She never saw him blink.

This was boring.

Stay tune.