Ivan got home from the meeting with the other countries and stepped into his cold house. Today was the same as usual, with everyone fighting and shouting. He took off his scarf and put it on his only couch before sitting down and staring at the blank, white wall.
His usual smile slowly lost its composure and turned into a blank stare. All the time, the other countries are scared of him. Last week, he even invited one of them over, but they said they were busy. Which they weren't
. He didn't always use to be like this. Years ago, he had many friends. They all looked up to him and they use to share many smiles and laughs together. But because of one thing. One event, he lost everything.
He hurt himself.
He didn't know what would happen. He hurt. His heart, everything. He became depressed. He took a knife one time, one stupid time, and cut himself. Someone found out, and rumors happened. No one knew if it was true or not, but then even more rumors happened. People became scared of him. His friends, they drifted away. They stopped calling him. He started smiling constantly. Every time he saw someone. Smile.
And he was alone.
Ivan stared at the wall with tears in his eyes now, streaming down his face. 'No one even likes me.. They're all afraid.. I'm that scary, they won't even talk to me..'
He walked to the kitchen and took out a knife. He rolled up his sleeve and stared at it. So many scars.. He drove the knife deep across his wrist. Blood started dripping from his wrist and onto the floor as he drove the knife across his wrist again. And again. He slid down the floor, crying out in pain. Pain in his heart. He couldn't stop crying. Every moment he had to fake in front of people, every time he was lied to, every time he broke down like this before... He was broken. He had nothing. No one. Not even himself.
He looked at the floor, tears streaming down his face, but he didn't move. He was calm. He didn't cry out anymore. He was nothing. He had nothing.
Ivan, was alone.