School was a hellhole for Teresa Scharpe. In simplest terms.

10th grade was filled with never ending torture, including piles of homework, the upcoming SAT, stubborn teachers-

"Oi, move, you great lump!"

"You're blocking the whole damn hall, fatass!"

And that.

"Sorry," the dark haired girl squeaked as the group of her personal tormentors stood impatiently before her. They passed by, throwing a couple more insults Teresa's way. Alfred, his blond cowlick bouncing, made sure she was slammed into the lockers on his way. "Pff, don't be so clumsy, Ter-ass-a," the American scoffed. "They're gonna haveta scrape all the shit you left on those lockers off all day." A couple of his lackeys laughed, including Gilbert, Francis, and Antonio, known as the "Bad Touch Trio" to the rest of the school, and the "Total Bastard Trio" to Teresa.

The girl just kept her royal violet orbs focused on the ugly carpeted floors and waited for all the boys to pass. A couple others, Arthur and Lovino, made sure to give her a shove as well. Teresa didn't try to fight back. She did, once upon a time, but the bullies made sure she learned her lesson well after that. The girl lifted a hand tenderly to her nose. She had seen what they all could do. And she couldn't afford to get severely hurt with her...sick... mother at home. No more weight needed to be put on those frail shoulders.

With a sigh, Teresa riffled through her cheap plastic binder, thick with other students' homework, while heading towards her English class. A huge project was due today, an essay, one she had worked hard on for about a month. She was proud of all the research she had done on the prompt: "Shakespeare". Detailed, definitely, but so was most of the schoolwork the students at World Academy were given.

Said essay was currently missing.

Cursing, Teresa looked around for any sign of the essay on the floor. Where could I have dropped it?! "Missing something, chienne?" A seductive voice drawled behind her. Whirling around, the girl was face to face with Francis, notorious for being a pervert and forgetting his homework. "Pardon, but I'll be needing this essay. An ugly sot like you can just suck up to the teacher once more, non?" With no answer other than an unsurprised look, the Frenchman turned and walked away to where his friends were waiting, where he received a high five from Antonio.

The minute bell rang, signaling a minute until Teresa would be tardy. She sighed, giving up, and hurried towards her impending zero, or a late grade, if she was lucky. There goes my A and B streak...


Teresa was tensed as the class began. The teacher was shaking the desktop computer on his desk while pressing buttons, trying to restart the ancient projector. Another useless presentation on gerunds was bound to be today's class. Or was it infinitives? She wasn't sure. They have the time to make these slideshows on participles, yet no one pays attention to a teen getting beat up in the halls.

Francis was chatting with Prussia and Antonio, as usual, not seeming to be the least bit bothered by a guilty conscience. Things like this, stealing homework, had happened before, but never with such a big project. The only thing bigger would be Science Fair-

No, don't give them any ideas! Teresa thought, paranoid for a moment that her bullies had ESP, a little day-nightmare. After a moment, she shook the ridiculous thought off, straightening up. No one has ESP. Calm down, Teresa, you paranoid idiot.

"Pass up your Shakespeare essays, please," the bald English teacher croaked, catching the girl off guard. "And raise your hand if you didn't complete it." The rustle of papers and quiet chatter filled the room as Teresa hesitated. She glanced towards Francis, who was taking out her own thick, handwritten essay. A wave of anger surged inside her, along with a stupid idea with certain consequences. No way she was going to do that.

"Miss Scharpe, I don't have your essay," the impatient grumble reminded the short haired girl, earning a couple laughs and smirks.

"I'll need to rewrite it, sir," Teresa quietly admitted, her anger barely contained. She'd have to handwrite all that information again, no printer available at her small apartment. The teacher lifted an eyebrow. "That'll be a 70 if turned in tomorrow. On a major grade, so I suggest you shape up. Be sure to meet me after class."

"Yes, sir," Teresa mumbled, blush pink brushed across her lightly tanned cheeks. "But, um…" A worried glance thrown at Francis and the others. All their expressions said Shut up right now, which she ignored. "I think someone took it. Um, someone from this class." She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. Francis fell out of his chair with a thump, and Alfred exchanged a look with Gilbert. "Are you sure?" the teacher half groaned and half sighed. Teresa nodded, pushing up her navy glasses nervously. "Well, then, if you really think so..." He eyed the huge stack of about 30 teens' work regretfully. "I'll go through everyone's essays and look for your handwriting. That's the most I will- ahem, can, do for you."

"Thank you," Teresa sighed, fidgeting with a black lock of hair. Three pairs of eyes glared like lasers into her, blue, green, and red. Another "lesson" was definitely coming for her. The bruises from last time had barely healed, leaving yellowish marks all over her body. Whatever it was, the stubborn girl mentally refused to go down without a fight, zoning out from the talk about verbal phrases.

Just another part of her normal school day.


"Yo!"

"Puta feo!"

"Bitch!"

Teresa tried her best to speedily enter her locker combination with her non-dominant hand, clutching a binder in the other. She had taken a while getting there, and now the hall was cleared of any witnesses, student or teacher alike. With a sick mom at home, she always bought lunch, resulting in stolen money at times. But this wasn't just about the crumpled green bills in her jeans' pocket.

"Hey, Mädchen!" Gilbert called out in his high-pitched German accent. "Ve don't appreciate you snitching on Francis over here!"

"Why don't you just suck up to the teacher again, bitch?" Antonio chimed in.

"Do we need another lesson? Because I'm pretty sure bad girls need to be taught." Alfred smirked, pushing the girl against the silver lockers. Teresa braced herself as her spine met the hard surface. Where are all the damned teachers?! "No," she muttered, not making eye contact.

"Vhat vas zhat?" Gilbert taunted. "I couldn't hear you over your unawesomeness."

"I said, 'No', you idiot!" Teresa snapped, lifting her head. "Now get the hell away from me and leave me alone!" Arthur clicked his tongue. "Don't you speak to us in that tone," the Brit scoffed. "You obviously need to learn to control your temper, git."

"Hurry up already," Lovino grumbled grumpily, his dark brown curl bouncing to his right. "I have a hot lunch to eat."

"Don't be such a, what do you call it, a bambino, Lovi, we're just having some fun!" Antonio teased.

"Shut up, and don't call me Lovi!" the Italian yelled.

"I agree with Lovi," Francis smirked. "This is getting boring, mon amis. No one likes a prolonged lesson, not even the teachers." The group closed in on (Name), who tried to slip away from the tight semicircle forming around her.

She didn't get a chance to cry out for help before a fist slammed into her nose.


EDIT: Sorry, I didn't realize reader inserts weren't allowed on this site ._.'. Instead, meet my OC Teresa! Sorry for any inconveniences or anything. And also, I do not own Hetalia, sadly!