She lay in the center of her bed, arms wrapped tightly around a large pillow with her face buried in it. Her chest heaved and shook as her toes clenched to the ball of her feet. The raised voices of fighting echoed from a few rooms over, breaking off the final price of her patience and mental sanity.
The curtains draped down to block the dusk light from creeping in the small room. Few particles of dust floated throughout the room and the stereo quietly played Fall Out Boy from the corner of the room. The bed sheets spilled from the side of the bed from the movement of the girl. Her world had come crashing down today and she didn't know what to do. Her face scrunched up in agony and tears rolled off her face and absorbed into the pillows soft fabric. Her eyes peaked open to what the white paint-chipped drawer across the room. She forced her limp arms to push her away from the pillow and sit up partially straight. Her legs moved themselves unconsciously to the drawer, her mind completely shut off from reality. Upon reaching it, her eyes movies downward and stared at it, not aware of her next actions. Her hand moved forward and curled her fingers around the cold black metal, pulling with a slight force that jerked it open. The motion of the wooden drawer made the objects inside hit together with a metallic sounds that was very displeasing to her ears. Unconsciously her heart fell even more at the sights of razor blades and bandages inside the drawer. The expression across her face didn't change but her hand continued on and let her fingers itch at the sharp razor blade. She picked it up and held it close to her face, examining its sharp edges. Her hand jerked open, letting the blade fall back into the drawer when her door burst open. Her head whipped around to see what had happened. What greeted her eyes was the sight of a small boy in a sailor outfit who glared at the door that he had just kicked open. He looked about twelve or so, beautiful flowing blonde hair, crystal blue eyes, and layered brown eyebrows. He looked so familiar and her mouth gaped open seeing a pair of arms reach out and touch the boys shoulder. Another man stepped into the room, this time he was wearing a teal military uniform. He had the same blonde hair but with amazingly clear violet eyes. He seamed motherly to the small boy, and four more men followed behind him and looked around her room. One of the men seamed to act like a father to the boy, the tallest out of the six, with glasses and similar appearance to the others. One had large spiked hair and was also very tall. The last two where almost identical, they had very light blonde hair, one of them having it pulled back by a hair pin in the shape of a cross and a small curl. They both shared the same violet eyes and handsome face. They all turned their attention to the girl, who had been starring at them for quite a while now. The little boy grew a wide smile and ran for the girl, arms wide as he crashed into her legs. She let out a small yelp as she crashed to the soft carpet floor. The motherly one raced over and pulled the boy off, quietly telling him not to do that, and calling him by the familiar name of Peter. He said some other things but she couldn't hear, her face still soft and raw from the rivers of tears. The one with the cross hair pin walked over to her calmly, his expression stayed still and easy. He bent his knees to get to her level and reached out, pushing the hair from her eyes.
"What were you going to do with that?" The man spoke gently and with some irritation but not enough to be harsh or intimidating. Her eyes flashed to the drawer beside her, having a sinking feeling in her gut.
"I...I don't know..." She really didn't know what she was going to do, but her chest began to heave again, not even realizing the yelling from a few rooms over had stopped. The man looked at her intently and leaned forward, she tensed up and feared for his next actions. But he just pulled his arms around her and locked his hands together, making for a weird but comforting hug. She took in a gulp of air, but then felt her chest tighten again and her lungs burst out air in another attempt to rid of her issues. The looks of the other five men became sympathetic and gentle, making the one with spiked hair walk forward and kneel on the other side of her. He took her hand with both of his and held it tightly, eyes gazing wonderfully into hers. She felt safe and protected but at the same time, nothing seemed real. Then another came around behind her and slipped a pair of headphones over her head and pulled out his iPod. He selected a playlist and hung his arms over her shoulders, his head resting on her back. He stayed behind her and the mother and father like men stood with the child, watching as she looked ahead in shock and grief. She couldn't cry any longer, but relaxed under the touches from the others. Her eyes felt heavy and slowly pulled downward, letting the dark air around her carry her to a soft sleep. She didn't care that all six strangers, yet somehow very familiar, where with her in her room. All she careed about was getting a nice rest and feeling safe, loving the warm comfort that flooded from the men.
A loud buzz made her head jerk up and frantically look around. All she saw was the room around her, no Remanence of the six people who came to her house that night. But her memory started to cloud over and he images of their faces disappeared. In the blink of an eye, everything had been forgotten. But she felt no sorrow or misery. No disrupt emotions or broken hearts and shattered mental states, just an odd comfort and peace was left with her.
20 years later
The girl watched as her hand moved in a circular motion to rid the plate of any dirt in the sink. Her child, sitting on the table, had been coloring a "special" picture for her. After a bit, she jumped out of her seat and started calling her mothers name, begging for her to come and see the drawing. When she agreed and saw the picture, she stopped and her eyes widened. Six men held hands in the drawing, the same men that had come to her and left her memories, but she had remembered it all again now; The ones that stopped a potential suicide. She grabbed the drawing and held it in front of her face, her daughter tilting her head and asking what's wrong. The only reply was a stern question of where had she seen these men.
"They came and visited me in a dream when I was feeling really upset, they were really nice too. Do you know them, mommy?" The woman felt her emotions well up behind her tear ducts as she kept her eyes locked on the picture.
"Old fiends of mine, actually..." Her smile widened and the memories of that one night came rushing back vividly. Every second, episode, season, story, drawing, book, or anything about them then reminded her of why she didn't end it all in that one night.
"It doesn't matter if a person or your favorite show on television stopped you from killing or harming yourself, any reason is a perfect reason not to"-unknown.
I'm not exactly sure why I wrote this, but I felt like this is a lot of people sometimes. Society will often tell them that its a stupid reason to not kill/harm yourself just because you started watching a show and you feel that those characters care and love you. But every reason is a good reason, and I'm a very strong believer in that. Hetalia had actually helped me with my own life and I always want the Nordics or anyone to come to me when I'm feeling depressed and do what they did in this story. So, I wanted to make my dream come true through words so I presented this to you. Thank you, please review, and my new FrUk one-shot is coming out soon:) -Sam