A/N: First fanfic on this account~! WARNING: SELF-HARM TRIGGERS ;A; WORDS WRODS WORDS WORDS WORDS WORDS WORDS WORDS WORDS WORDS WORDS WORDS WORDS WORDS WORDS

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia :3

Today was not Matthew's day.

He woke up late and fell out of bed, effectively stubbing his toe. Of course, no one heard him when he cussed loudly- except for Alfred, who laughed from the room next to him. "What's the matter Mattie, Lovino rubbing off on you?" he teased. Matthew blushed. He had been hanging around the foul-mouther Italian more frequently lately, it was true...

And then he missed the bus, despite Alfred asking the driver to wait. The snooty old man, Mr. Edelstein, did no such thing and drove off just as Matthew opened his front door.

When he finally arrived at school, huffing and puffing from running, he was ignored by the people in the office, so he just headed off to class. He managed to slip into the room and to his seat without even being seen and realized that he forgot his homework at facedesking, he wan't surprised when the teacher walked right on by him, praising his brother for a good job. Naturally Al had forgotten about him already.

At lunch Carlos accidentally mistook him for Al and punched him in the face. Then he dragged him out back, beat him up a bit, and tossed him in the dumpster. To add insult to injury, he threw his lunch garbage on top of him and spit on his bloody, bruised face. "Take that, stupid American." he sneered walking away. Matthew just lay there in a daze for a while, breathing shallowly due to his aching torso. Finally he managed to crawl out, just as the bell rang. Stumbling back to the building, random pieces of trash began to fall out of his hair and off his clothes, earning more than just a few odd glances.

Reaching for the door, a kid stuck his foot out and tripped him. One second he was facing the classroom, and another he was met with a face full of floor, bruising his nose and dignity as kids all around began to snicker and laugh.

Ignoring them, he headed off to the nurse's office instead, feeling miserable. Why did the universe hate him so much? He had relatively good grades, he was nice to people when they bothered to notice him, and he hardly ever complained about anything. And in return he was greeted with ignorance, pain, and violence.

Why him?

During last period it began to rain. He groaned, not caring if anyone happened to look his way. Not that anyone did, though. He stared at the clock, willing for it to go faster. It was just five more seconds until this horrid day would be over.

Four...

He could go home and mope around, maybe make some pancakes.

Three...

What would be the point? Why did he even try anymore? It would be so much easier if he didn't exist.

Two...

Maybe he should just end it all. No one would miss him, right?

One...

...Right?

=RRRRIIIIINNNGGG!=

Nearly jumping a foot out of his chair, Matthew stayed put as the kids all scrambled around him to get to their lockers and go home, to enjoy the weekend. He waited until they were mostly gone so he wouldn't get trampled out in the hallway- he learned that the hard way. He was especially invisible on Fridays for some reason.

Realizing Alfred had left already with the truck, he sighed. Looks like he'd be walking back home, too. In the rain.

And it just so happened as he turned onto a street, a car went speeding past and through a puddle, soaking him to the bone. Chilled to his core, the small blond staggered home, limping slightly from his altercation with Carlos earlier.

He reached his house a minute later, slamming the door behind him and rushing upstairs. Not even caring that he was wet, he fell onto his bed and began to sob his heart out. Why did life hate him so much? And it wasn't even like this was the first time this happened, either! It was almost daily. He shakily reached under his pillow for a knife and pulled it out, running his fingers over the tip. Slowly, as if in a daze, he trudged to the door and locked it. Sitting back down on his bed, he pulled his sleeves up to reveal pure white, clean, pure arms.

As if he was hypnotized Matthew dragged the blade across the skin of his left forearm, watching the blood drip down into his old jeans, fascinated. Realizing it felt relieving on his troubled mind, he cut again. And again.

And again.

Time seemed to pass by. It could have been hours, or only mere seconds. He didn't know. All he knew was that his vision was getting very blurry and it wasn't from his crying. That had stopped long ago. He felt nothing but peace as he flopped over onto his covers, closing his eyes and allowing the darkness to consume him.

A/N: This won't be very long, I'm afraid. What pairing do you guys want? Franada? AmeCan? PruCan? RusCan? CanUK? Tell me! And also, did you like it? I might be able to update tomorrow... idk... depends... anywho, I have another account, it's Canadian Erect Mountie. Please read my stories on there!