"Aggressive." "Cruel." "Unpredictable."
"Evil."
It's not like I care.
People can say whatever they want, it'll never matter to me. Ever.
I don't care if Germany says I'm aggressive. I don't care if England says I'm cruel. I don't care if Canada thinks I'm unpredictable.
And I certainly don't care if America thinks I'm evil.
North Korea stared at the news article on her computer screen, fists trembling slightly in a mixture of hatred, rage, and betrayal as she mentally deciphered the English text.
Evil.
So that's how the world thought of her, she was hated by absolutely everyone. It's not like this is a surprise.
I don't need anyone anyway. I don't care.
She stood up and turned away from the bright screen, the edges of her glazed over eyes hiding tears unshed that the North Korean refused to allow to fall. She held her head up despite the shattered spirit she refused to acknowledge, and walked slowly down the lonely hallway of her home.
Let's see who else doesn't care.
North Korea pushed the door to her room aside and slammed it shut, walking over to her dresser. She scanned the top of it, looking disinterestedly at the framed photographs lying there.
A photo of Russia, Lithuania, and Poland.
They didn't care.
She grabbed the photo off the top of the dresser and hurled it at the window on the other side of the room, effectively smashing the glass of both the frame and the window. The remains flew out and fell to the pavement outside.
Mongolia, Taiwan, and Cambodia.
North Korea grabbed this picture and threw it out the window as well, pausing a moment to hear it smash to the ground outside, like the first.
Hong Kong, Thailand, and Vietnam.
Another smash.
Japan, South Korea, and America.
North Korea hurled that photo farther than the other three, smirking slightly when she heard the frame shatter to pieces. Maybe it would rain tonight and ruin all those photos. That'd make her pretty freaking happy.
They all don't care. So I will not care.
She glanced over at the dresser one last time, staring at the remaining photograph. She picked it up gently, with less malice than the others.
"Can I even trust you anymore, China?" The girl whispered to no one in particular, gripping the frame of the photo a little tighter.
Her soft expression quickly turned to one of aggravation, and she slammed the picture back down on to the top of the dresser. The wood of the frame cracked slightly, but North Korea didn't care. Collapsing on to her bed, she stared up at her blank ceiling.
She laughed quietly to herself, bitterly. It'd been a while since she cared about anything.
And no one cares enough to make me care.
It's not like they could.
But I don't care.
...