OI! Hey guys! I bing to you another story here that I have thought of. I have been getting into the whole 2p! thing and read some stories with interesting plots so, I decided I should write a story of my own. I'm not really good at slow pacing my stories but would love to work on it, and of course hear feed back from you guys so that my skills can improve.

There were a few pictures on Pinterest that inspired for me to write this so I hope you all will enjoy this. Can't promise regular updates but will try to update as much as I possibly can. In fact I will tryto update every Friday so I can make time during the week to write and edit.

Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this. Leave comments and if you want me to keep writing this, then I will

Disclaimer, I don't own Hetalia

Worthless Child

Preface

"P-Papa please! Don't!"

"Shut the hell up you worthless piece of shit!"

"B-But I'm afraid of the dark! I-I can't-"

"What did I just say?"

A small brunette boy winced at his father's tone. The older man glared down at him with so much hatred, blue eyes piercing his very soul. Taking a long drag of his cigarette, the blond man exhaled, his bored expression returning.

"You are worthless, you know that?" he said with acid in his tone. "You aren't anything. You will never be anything. You're just a stupid child that nobody loves. No one will ever love you; not me, not your brother, and definitely not Oliver."

"T-That isn't true!" The child said, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Oliver and Mattie do love me!"

The Frenchman gave a deep, exhaling more smoke, blowing it into the child's face.

The little boy began to cry, his tears falling on the soft material of his jacket. Falling to his knees, he sobbed, little body shaking. The Frenchman smiled in satisfaction, the visible evidence of the child's suffering more than pleasing to him. But the merely was not enough. The older man growled, grabbing the child rough by his arm and throwing him harshly on the ground. The child gasped in pain, his side hitting the concrete. Before he could get up, he was forcefully held down on the ground. He wiggled, trying to break free from the strong grip. The elder pinned him down, a sinister grin on his stubble face.

He took the cigarette from between his lips and held in a few inches from the child's face. The child was frozen in fear, the worse running through his mind.

"No one will ever love you," the Frenchman whispered before smudging the cigarette into the child's flesh. A scream of pain escaped the little one's lips, him crying out to his Papa; begging that he stop.

"Papa please! Papa!"