Things...happened. I felt so depressed and I had to vent. Sorry if it disturbs or pisses anyone off, I really needed to lash out at something. The only way I know best is through writing.
Disclaimer: Hetalia doesn't belong to me
It's amazing what could hurt you these days. I'm pretty baffled that words could hurt me so badly. It shouldn't have bothered me so much now since they've been doing it to me for so many years. It didn't start out like that. At first, I thought they were tired and just couldn't think straight.
"Who are you?"
But then it started to hurt. It started to cut me on the inside. I wasn't bothered by it in the beginning. I completely ignored it. I continued smiling and laughing. A mask of obliviousness that covered the pain growing inside me, cutting me deeper and deeper. I began to bleed.
"Who?"
They never noticed. Not Alfred or Francis or Arthur noticed. My family didn't notice me at our meetings, our get-togethers or even come up when it was report card day for me. No matter how good my grades were or how amazing my performance on the school hockey team, I went unnoticed.
I was never noticed.
Alfred was.
My brother.
The brother that also never noticed me.
How it hurt. It hurts so much! I hated the feeling! I want to be noticed! I'm Matthew! Matthew Williams! Somebody look at me! Look at me! Please! Somebody please!
Please don't say 'who'.
Please don't cut me with that knife.
Please don't take my sanity from me.
Please…
…
…
If only Alfred wasn't born, I would be noticed.
Alfred, my brother.
The one that grins and is always the hero.
Everyone loved him.
I hated him.
I wanted him to die.
And now, he sleeps six feet under in a wooden box.
Now, everyone knows me.
They notice me.
Everyone knows my name…
Matthew Williams…
The boy who killed the hero.