...what did I just write? O.o

And before someone accuses me of being depressed, I'm not. I just really like writing about a character in this kind of state, because you get to see how they really are. And yes, I just went all wise on you! :) Anywho, yes, I've watched Hetalia, the first three seasons. I would've watched all five (did season five come out yet?) if I wasn't broke. So...yeah. Enjoy! :D Please excuse any grammar or spelling mistakes. I'm a terrible proof-reader.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, it belongs to its respectful and rightful owner/owners.


He supposed that when he first started painting his mask he was just doing it to see if other's noticed. It was nine decades after he left, and at that time, he was pretty sure he had died. He usually spent his days painting on empty canvasses, the colors bending into one another, mixing, creating even more beautiful shades. There was always a crease between his furrowed eyebrows, constantly birthing a concentrated aura to his face. But what was he concentrating on all the time? Back then, he would've said he was concentrating on his painting, on getting the shades right, of adding that tiny little detail to the smile that surely would've made it seem realistic.

But a when he first applied that mask, he realized that he wasn't concentrating on the paintings; he was concentrating on forgetting of his hurt, his sadness…his anger. Anger truly dragged humans down. Sure, it was first produced as hurt, slowly gnawing away at the continuously throbbing heart that painfully thumped in the chest, but over a period of time that consisted of the heart aching, it was twisted into anger. And how did he vent that anger? He painted of him each and every day, taking up the hours of light and the hours of dark. There was no time for the comfort of food for the all too familiar stomach that uttered out growls every minute, there was only time for getting that anger out, for concentrating on forgetting.

This didn't work though. No, it never worked. Those blue eyes, that blonde hair, those flushed cheeks…they kept reminding him of everything. Forgetting was an impossible action; it was a wish that could never be received. So one day, the wrong shade was produced to the blue eyes, a violet appearing. The next minute, he was on the ground, a sobbing mess. The shoulders shook, the heart screamed out as the hurt ferociously bit into it, and sobs echoed throughout the room. Deep down, he was screaming for help, for comfort, for someone to understand.

Yet no one came. He sat there, eyes wide and bloodshot, painted hands dirtying his trousers as he clutched on them, desperately listening for footsteps to climb up those creaky stairs. The broken soul dreadfully watched the wooden door, imagining someone bursting into the room and wrapping their arms around his trembling body.

But no one did.

The last time he'd laid his amber eyes on someone was…

He didn't know.

He didn't know.

What did a human being look like?

He didn't know.

What color were his brother's angry eyes?

He didn't know.

What did he look like?

HE DIDN'T KNOW.

And so, at that moment, he rose to his feet, almost knocking over the extensive display of paintings, and staggered out of the room. After wracking his memories, he found himself stumbling into the bathroom, shakily opening the door with a quivering hand. Almost immediately, a mirror met his vision, and he met sights with the crease between his eyebrows.

In that second, the first part of the mask was crafted. After resting his palms on the table, he looked up, spotting his amber eyes, his brownish-red hair, that upside-down smile, and realized how to forget of the hurt…of the sadness…of his anger.

That smile was no longer upside-down.

But it was fake.

It's always been fake.


Seriously though...what did I just write? I was just jamming out to some awesome Namine Ritsu music, and then BAM! Time to write about a depressed/angry Italy!

I hope that you enjoyed reading this though. I've been deprived of writing, and so I'm happy to finally have written something. I hope that I made this unique too...because if it isn't I'm just gonna go sit in the corner. I don't know if I'm going to continue this either... I just kind of stopped because I thought that continuing it would ruin the mood...I'll just mark it as complete for the time being.

Reviews would be awesomely appreciated! You'll get some energy drinks in return since I downed an entire energy drink while writing it. (You'll get a review from me in return)

Thanks for reading, and have a great day/week! :D