A small house sat on the shore of England, inside sat a micronation. This was Sealand, the small nation who was taunted and never noticed. He was sitting in the living room, legs flat on the ground and off to different sides. Most people would think how painful it is to side like that, but to the young nation it wasn't painful, noting was to him anymore. In front of him was a book, filled with the same drawing he drew every night in his own blood. Besides that on the right side sat a hunting knife, handle a red stained wood. On the left side by his feet, a music box sat, open and silent.
The nation sighed and lifted the old wooden piece carefully, admiring the detail on the box before resting his hand on the crank. He turned, listing to the clicks as he winded it up. As soon as he twisted it five times, he let it go and set it back down by his feet. To him the music it played was calming, but to others it was deep and haunting, like a sirens call. The small nation grabbed the book's cover and flipped it open where the first page showed. It was a heart, uneven and runny from his blood. Sealand ripped the page out carefully and looked down at the name he had written on the bottom.
"England." The small nation said to himself.
Sealand picked up his hunter's knife he had set down next to him and stabbed it through the middle of the blood drawn heart. It made a single rip of a line, but that was all that was needed. The next pages were the same, each having different names of nations.
"America." Sealand whispered, cutting the paper and throwing to the side with England's.
"China." He muttered, hatred and bloodlust slipping into his child like voice.
"Russia." He whispered.
Sealand continued to do this until he had gotten through almost every nation and he only had a few left, the ones at the end of the book. The music box continued to play by his feet as he did so. The once bare wooden floor around Sealand was covered in paper, the same blood heart with different nations name surrounded him.
"Norway." Sealand hissed, now hastily ripping out each page. "Iceland."
Sealand started to laugh. It was slow, silent but as he went through the rest of the Nordics and a few micro nations, his laughter grew louder. He had one last paper left, his laughter now high-pitched and filled with insanity. The last one was a page that had still wet blood, surprisingly. Underneath it was written Ladonia. Sealand slowly ripped it out, his laughter louder than the music box that still played. Sealand stabbed it through, watching the knife get speckled with a few drops of blood. He threw the paper over towards the side, his laughter now laced with sadness.
Sealand grabbed a few papers and threw them upwards, watching them flitter down like snowflakes in December.
"None of them love me, so I might as well end it all here." Sealand said through the tears that now streamed down his face.
The micronation lifted the knife and posed it towards hi heart. With a single laugh, he went silent and thrusted the knife into his heart. Sealand fell over, gasping slowly as blood pooled around him. The music box besides him played, the creepy haunting music slowing down. Just as Sealand went limp, the music box playing the finally notes.
The song ended right when Sealand's fort fell to the raging storm outside, crumbling and falling into the waves.