Sometimes the world seemed so cold and unresponsive. As if no one really cared. Whatever you chose to do wasn't going to even cross their minds.
As if you meant nothing to them…
As if you were completely invisible…
Other times you could tell that everyone in the room had their eyes hook on every move you made, everything you said, and listened for the beat of your heart, wondering if you were calm or nervous. Watching you…
Waiting for you to slip up and make the mistakes you told yourself you wouldn't. Promised yourself to would never admit to anyone. Not yourself…and especially not him.
Not that it really mattered. His father would give little care in the matter, most likely giving his son a heartwarming hug as he told him that he was proud. The only person that could truly see him would be proud to call him his son, despite the fact that no one knew who he was. That person might even know already…somehow he always did.
The problem for Matthew wasn't anything that the average person in his position had difficulties with. His problem was with two people that had nothing to do with how he felt or how he acted. However…those two people had affected someone he tended to distance himself from. And there was a reason for that. A reason that he had always remained silent about, it being the main reason he held a constant smile, never wanting to draw attention.
He didn't want to snap.
Those two people who ruined that quietness he had worked so hard to maintain... The smiles, the soft voice, the clothing that hid his real strength, his own animal friend suffering amnesia and Matthew not doing anything to get him the help he needs, just to keep an anonymous profile even after he spoke his name. To keep from any extra attention away from coming his way. And they, that Russian maniac and the heavily endowed Ukraine, destroyed all of his patients in one argument. Matthew didn't even think before acting, realizing only afterwards that he was watching…and completely silent, watching without a single annoying comment about how weak he was. Because he wouldn't say that this time.
This time he was everything besides weak…
This time he wasn't careful.
When Matthew thought back to that day, and could remember everything perfectly clear. For that was the day everything went completely silent…the day people noticed when he skipped the meetings. Ever since that day, others started to keep their distance, unable to a walk past the door without walking into the thick wall of tension that was caused by the quiet, weak, innocent country. At one point, Matthew stopped trying. He was done with being looked at…with that look…
At first he told himself it would go away. Fade just like his name would whenever he told it to someone, and they would forget seconds later. However, it just kept happening. All of them would watch him as if he would lash out. Everyone besides Francis, of course, who kept trying to casually lighten the mood and move the eyes of everyone off his son. It only worked on those who hadn't attended the meeting that day, there for not being directly impacted. To everyone else, however. Canada's name was now permanently carved into their memories, and, with England, Poland, Switzerland and France (who wanted one because he thought it was just a growing trend that he wanted first go at it), some peace treaties. Soon he gave up going back. He was an outcast, and now he's an outcast that stands out far from the others. Matthew could no longer sit on the sidelines and watch without being a distraction to the players.
Why did he have to be such an idiot and act off the pure hot blooded feeling of instinct? Only meat-headed morons did things like he had done. And it wasn't until this very moment that Matthew had realized that these were things that he did. For once he wouldn't mind being mistaken for him.
"He hasn't been to the meetings since…" Matthew though back to that day, for the hundredth time that day, and though of all the looks he had earned from what he had done.
"Why did I do it?...how could I have screwed everything up?!" He asked himself suddenly, creating a hole in the garage door leading into to his mountain house. The thick wood splintered and cracked, light shine around his forearm that suck out from the door, reminding him that he had left the house lights on after he left not even on hour ago. He was on his way to the meeting…only making it half way before turning back, not wanting them to look at him like that ever again. Matthew gingerly caressed his right elbow with his left hand as he helped himself pull his hand gently out of the door. Pricks tingled down his arm as he felt little splinters jab under his skin, forcing his jaw to tense. As calmly as he had managed, he twisted the golden door-nob and pulled himself in the safety of his home. Toeing off his boots, Matthew moved two rooms down and flopped himself down on the leather 'L' shaped couch that warped the room and aimed his directly at his flat screen. Forgetting about what had happened about a minuet ago, he swirled his wrist around, wincing as he remembered the tiny spikes of hair-like wood pieces that were not enweaved again. He began to pick at them, again thinking about what had happened only a month ago.
Everything…he remembered every detail…