THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR REVIEWS FROM THE OTHER STORIES. I love you all! - Okay had to get that out of my system. (:

There is... so many things that I see wrong with this story, but I don't care. It was a quick story to keep you guys entertained because I've been slacking with the editing of RP's and longer stories. D: I apologize!

This story was actually an experience that I've dealt with. There is a website, one I can't recall now, that people could post other people's phone numbers (Creeperish, I know) and leave a message on what to send them. It might sound confusing, but I sent a particular message to someone who had been fighting depression for years. Though, it wasn't as dramatic as saving the person from suicide, it did in fact help them with their recovery from depression.

The song that the title derives from is: Never Alone by Jesse Bonanno - It is, in fact, one of the most touching songs I've heard, and it really helped me with writing this.

Editor's Note: Just for kicks: how many of you guys have gone through depression? Have you ever had someone pull you out of it, even if they were a complete stranger?

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Hetalia. It belongs to it's rightful owner, of whom I wish I had the imagination of, because they are a genius. :l Who doesn't love personified countries?

"I will walk with you..."

Emerald eyes looked at the edge of glimmering blade that was laid out in front of him. The room was enveloped in darkness, and his breath coming out in small puffs of white. All that ticked through his mind was 'this was it' and 'this is where it ends.' All the pain and suffering that he'd been plagued with for his whole life; this is where it all ended and a book closed the ending to a story.

A clear drop of liquid fell onto trembling hands as eyes closed; throat tightening from ache. He couldn't do this anymore. All the lies he spoke were worthless now, and he couldn't put up this pretense that everything was okay. His mindset had finally shut down; placing him into a downfall into a dark depression he couldn't climb out of.

He had no name, just simple words that described a being, such as 'he' and 'him'. Fists tightened into denim as the tears soaked into his jeans, putting more weight onto his pressuring body. He felt used and betrayed. Used by the people around him, who pushed him around and told him false lies, and betrayed by the promise of this dream that everyone was granted. A choked inhale of breath brought him to reality as he gently picked up his relief; his escape from a dirty, filthy world.

As shaky fingers and trembling hands moved to place the cold blade against a numb wrist, emerald eyes closed for the final time. 'I can't go through this constant fight with life. It's not worth it if I'm never allowed happiness. This is no life… this is a living version of hell.' The blade dug into soft skin at the medial corner of his wrist, pausing in hesitation, 'No. I can't stop, I have to do this. This is my only escape…'

Fingers moved to pull the blade across skin but jerked away as a loud beep echoed throughout the empty kitchen. Emerald eyes shot open and glanced over at the cellphone on the table next to the letter he had written. The screen was glowing, indicated he had a message. Unsure, the man looked around before finally placing the blade down and reaching over for the phone.

Flipping open the device, he slowly pressed the 'ok' button, which pulled up the text he had received. Blank eyes scanned over the letters before tears formed behind emerald orbs. A hand reached up to cover his mouth as his body shook with tremors.

'I don't know who this is, but I would just like you to know: Everything is going to be okay, because even in this wrong world, there is beauty that belongs to you. Don't give up and keep fighting, because no matter what you think, you are one of the most beautiful people in the world and no one can take that away. So smile and keep your chin up. – Alfred.'

He didn't know who this man was, but hearing such beautiful words written to him broke him apart. It didn't matter if this was a complete stranger, because no words in his life had ever sounded more perfect like they did now. With the back of his hands, he wiped away the pools streaming down his face and quickly texted back a reply to the stranger.

'And I don't know who this is, but thank you. You wouldn't believe what I was about to do, but the timing of that text couldn't have been more perfect. Thank you, Alfred. I felt like the world had chewed me up and spit me back out, to survive with a disability of not being able to do anything. I've been fighting with myself for years, and no matter what people told me, I never listened. I don't know why I did this time, but I… want you to know that was the most inspiring things said to me, and I now have the courage to fight for my happiness. Thank you…'

A sudden chill swept through his body as the cold left him and was replaced by a growing warmth. All the doubt, anger, and despair he had felt towards himself and his surrounds was gone. Now all he could feel was a strong sense of courage, hope, and, most of all, love. The fact that a stranger had managed to reach out blindly and lift him from the darkness he had driven himself into for the last five years, was one of the most inspiring things he's ever seen. And now, he wanted to do that for others. But first he had to get his life back in order, starting with renewing his relationship with his family.

With boneless legs, he got up and put the knife in the sink, ignoring the small droplet of blood that slide down its smooth surface. He made his way to the entrance of the kitchen before pausing.

A smile flitted over a tear-stricken face as Arthur flipped the light on, illuminating his kitchen. He then proceeded to turn on every light in his house, bringing the foundation to life for the first time in years.

"...so you are never alone."

As said before, reviews help my contribution to world peace. Especially between France and England. Thank you for ALLLLL the other reviews on my stories/rps. I LOVE you all so much and it keeps me inspired on writing more. I will try to upload at least a short story every week, or a longer story/rp every other week. Once my America stops being a douchy, wanker and gets online. - Love, MissC.