Canada sat down in his seat at the world meeting. He was the first one there, like always. China came in not too soon after and took his seat, and the other nations soon filed in after that. He heard the voices of all the other nations, the easiest ones to pick out was Italy's innocent 'Ve~'s and America's loud obnoxious voice, both of them having totally different conversations. The meeting began the second Germany walked through the door and called for silence. The meeting seemed to crawl by. Every time Canada would try to say something he'd be ignored, just like every meeting.

It's not like anyone even values my opinion anyways. A voice in the back of Canada's head said. He quickly shook that thought away; Of course they do. He said to himself. America does. He sat through the rest of the meeting in silence, listening to everyone talk about their own issues.

"Okay! Meeting adorned!" Germany called. Canada wasn't even paying attention to the blonde haired man. He slowly got up, and walked over to America.

"Hey man!" America called in his direction. Canada opened his mouth to answer, but England answered for him.

"You git, let's get going." America wrapped his arm around England's shoulder and they walked out of the room together. Canada stood there in disappointment.

"Who are you?" Kilimanjaro asked, looking up at the wavy-blonde haired man.

"I'm CANADA!" Canada felt tears welling at the corner of his eyes and her turned and ran. He ran all the way home. He let Kilimanjaro down as he ran to the door. He collapsed on his bed, sobbing. His mind flashed to a few days ago as he rubbed his wrist.

I got out of bed, and looked at the pocket knife sitting next to me on my night stand. I had always been against cutting, because I saw how much it affected the people of my country, but I saw how effective it was for them. I picked it up and opened it up and just starred at the silver blade. I sat back down on my bed and just looked at the tiny thing. It was so sharp… Next thing I knew I was pulling it sharply against my skin. I sighed. I wasn't sure if I enjoyed it or not. I did it two more times. I turned on the light to look at what I had done. Blood pooled around the cut, I just looked at it. It was kinda pretty. I shook my head and went to wash them off so they wouldn't get infected. I'm never doing that again. I thought to myself.

Canada shook his head to get the thought out of his head. I don't want to hurt myself. But he couldn't help himself. He found himself going through his dresser drawer to look for that same knife. When he finally found it, he smiled. He held out his bare wrist that still had scabs from the other night. He took a sharp intake of breath as he counted out the cuts.

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Blood ran lightly down his wrist. He cocked his head. That feels nice. He smiled. This was the best he's felt since… well the last time he had cut himself. He licked off the blood before it got on his sheets and stood up to go wash it off. When he got back into his room he fell into a contempt slumber.

So, I've been contemplating writing this for a while now. Self-injury is a painful and difficult thing to go through. If you are contemplating self-injury of any form, think before you make that first cut, because once you start it is impossible to stop.