A/N: My first Hetalia fic was funny to say the least, but this is way different. This is something I don't have planned out; I'm just making it up as I go. Please tell me what you think.

I couldn't wait any longer. The yearning in my heart was sending me over the edge. I had to find it soon or else. I ran away from the meeting, not like any one would notice I was gone.

I am always forgotten by them, my so called 'family'. They barely knew I existed so why do I keep on existing? But I was a country and a large one at that so I couldn't die. Sure badly injured but unless my country was terminated I couldn't die…sadly.

So instead I just hurt. Blades, needles, falling off buildings I use most methods of pain. No one ever noticed. Sometimes when I wake up I hope to see a caring face full of worry, but my hopes just get crushed.

All my hopes end up the same. Crushed and turned to dust. The hope to be noticed, the hope that someone would save me from the hurt, and the hope that I would be loved….All these hopes and dreams burnt to a crisp and blown away in the breeze.

I ran into my home in the U.S. considering I couldn't get to my home anytime soon. I shouldn't even have come. What was the point if no one would notice me? But that didn't stop me from trying to get noticed and all my failed attempts. The attempts to kill myself or at least pain myself.

I ran into my bathroom. It was pristine. Everything in the room was white. I almost felt ashamed that I would taint it with the crimson of my blood. Almost.

I went over to the cabinet behind the mirror and took out a small black wooden box. I took off the lid, and took out the blade inside. The blade too was pristine and gorgeous. It gleamed in the dim florescent lights. The handle and intricate silver carved with vines and the blade so sharp one soft touch and I would bleed.

I removed my red hoodie and tossed it carelessly onto the other side of the room. I looked at my arms. They were pale and covered in scars that criss-crossed in an unorganized pattern.

I brought the blade up to my arm and dug it in softly, reveling in the sting I felt. I admired the way the crimson blood looked upon my arm as it slowly dripped onto the floors.

Splat, splat, splat….

I listened to that noise as the drops stained the white tiles. I brought the blade up to my arm again and cut even deeper this time. The bright red liquid guzzled out in a flowing river of red as it fell it the floor in a faster rhythm.

I smiled as the pain slowly crept back up my arms. It stung, but the pain felt lovely. The pain made relief flood throughout my veins. I fell to the floor and sat up against the bath tub.

I repeated the pattern of cuts along my arm until I could no longer think straight and started to get dizzy. My eyes were starting to droop and I fell asleep to the lullaby of

Splat, splat, splat…

Hoping that just maybe I wouldn't wake up.

I woke up the florescent lights stinging a bit. I sighed in defeat, I woke up yet again.

My arms were sticky with the residue of the semi-dried blood. I looked around the once white bathroom. Blood covered almost every tile in the room. I admired it. The white tiles splattered with drops of red. At least to me it was beautiful and I admired it before I had to wipe it away.

The fresh scars on my arms had yet to heal and needed to be washed. I got up and decided that I would take care of cleaning this up first. I got up and grabbed the rag and bucket from under the sink. I filled the bucket up in the sink and started to wipe away the blood, scrubbing really hard in some places.

After about 47 minutes I was done. Next, I would take a shower. I got up and turned on the water. I stripped off my bloodied shirt and blood splattered pants and sank into the steamy water. The dried blood slowly removed itself from my skin and mixed into the water. I relaxed loving the pale red water that soon filled the tub. The cuts were long and thin, that slowly became clean as I cleaned them out. I got out and ran cleaned myself of the tinted water. I wiped the remaining blood off with a towel and got dressed in some pajama pants and a plain red shirt. The bloody clothes were dumped into the hamper along with the rest.

There was one cut thought that wouldn't stop dripping though. I was too tired to stop it though so I let it drop.

Splat, splat, splat…

It went as it hit the wooden floors of my room. My eyes drooped again and I hoped that maybe one day I wouldn't have to do this. That one day I wouldn't have to suffer the pain and that I would be noticed and hopefully loved….

A/N: I'm going to say that this is not a one-shot cause I'm wondering as much as you are as to what happens. Not sure if this will be Fem!Canada or male Canada. Not sure about the pairing either. But please review and some ideas/suggestions would be nice. Still not sure where I am going with this. Flames will be used to cook wurst with Prussia and Germany! But please, do tell me what you think and if I should go on with this. Thanks for reading.

Russia: Become one, da?

Girl: Do I get cookie?

Russia: Da, sure *takes sip of vodka*

Girl: Then yeah sure! *grabs cookie and eats it* Russia mind doing the disclaimer for me?

Russia: Girl doesn't own Hetalia.

Girl: Da! Can I have other cookie?