THIS IS UP 'CUZ I HAVE WAY TOO MANY IDEAS. o3o

ANYWAY, this is my third/fourth story called 'Unknown', inspired by listening to (possibly) depressing songs. =.= OH, and reading Chapter 10 of 'Our Messed Up Lives' by memoranda. X) THANK YOU, MEM! :D

I'm trying to work on 'The Promise'... BUT A WRITER'S BLOCK HIT ME. AGAIN. *rages* That's why I put up a poll in my profile to help my thinking go smoothly! :)

ALSO. I'm also working on 'What She Doesn't Know'. IF NO ONE REVIEWS BY THE 10TH CHAPTER, I WILL NOT CONTINUE THE STORY. LOL, I'm still working at the 2nd chapter right now, so you have plenty of time... -.-

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR THE LYRICS OF 'BAD APPLE!'

Here we are, the first chapter of 'Unknown'! Hope you love it! :)

If I Grieve, Will My Heart Turn White?

- Dawn POV -

I scribbled on my sketchbook, looking over at the flower that sat right in front of me.

It's a lonely flower.

Noise surrounded me, kids going up and down from their benches, chattering with their friends.

It's just like me.

I sat under a shady tree, while kids, even teachers, passed by without noticing me. I looked up as a leaf slowly fluttered down from the tree, the breeze catching it and twirling it.

Look, listlessness dances round and round.

Slowly, the leaf landed on my sketchbook. I looked at, blinking, and the grass rustled behind me. I ignored it and continued sketching the flower.

Sudden pain exploded on the back of my head, and someone grabbed my pure black hair. I tried to scream, but nothing came from my mouth.

"Hey guys, look. The freak's actually drawing," someone sneered behind me. I filled with dread when I realized that the owner of the voice was Daniel, my long-time tormentor. Giggles erupted behind me, and I was forced to turn around. My tears that streamed down my face left a burning trail.

"Why are you such a freak, Dawn? Come on, just talk. Maybe I'll spare you just once today," continued Daniel, flipping his golden brown hair, his green eyes sparking with menace.

I looked down, my own hazel eyes filled with tears. I can't speak. Even if I tried, I couldn't speak. Not at all.

If opening your heavy eyelids will destroy everything, Dawn, then let it all turn black.

I glanced sideways, finding that my sketchbook was stepped on. A blonde girl reached down and picked up my sketchbook. To my dismay, she giggled and ripped it to shreds. Rage filled inside me, and my mind said, If your heart withdraws from you, just don't care.

"I see how it is," spat Daniel, and grabbed my collar. He slammed me onto a wall, which was right next to the cafeteria, and he leaned in so close that our noses were touching.

"Do you want me to make you speak?" he said, green eyes glinting mischievously. I managed to glare daggers at him, and spat on his face. Daniel cried out with surprise, and he let go of my collar and staggered backward. I fell on the floor, recoiling, and Daniel shakily stood up, wiping his face.

"You... you will pay for this," he threatened. He raised a fist, and I held up my arms to block the punch. Even so, I felt explosive pain from my arm, and I heard a crack!

"Look, guys, she breaks easily!" taunted Daniel, recovering from my 'attack'. Letting go of control of my anger, I stood to meet him, slipping out my hidden pencil. Sharpened enough to kill, promised my mind. I took it out, and Daniel and his gang laughed after a few moments of silence.

"A pencil? Are you serious?" Daniel shrieked, laughing uncontrollably. "She's going to kill me with a pencil!" Ignoring him, I raised it so he can see its leaded tip, until I heard a yell.

"Hey! What's going on here?" A man ran up to us, an with a start, I realized that he was an adult. Not a teacher. But definitely someone different.

The man had golden brown hair, close to the same hair color as Daniel's, except he had baby blue eyes. A piece of hair was sticking up, as if he didn't comb his hair in that area at all, and he wore half-frame glasses. He wore a brown bomber's jacket, with a white shirt under and a green tie. Definitely not a teacher. It's like he came out from a movie. With a start, I realized that it was Career Day today. Must be a stuntman or a someone from Hollywood, at least.

"Are you picking on the girl?" the man accused Daniel, and sweeping his gaze over to Daniel's gang menacingly. "That's not very nice. If I see you picking on Dawn again, I'll break your necks! Scram!"

With fear, Daniel and his gang scrambled away, and ran to the cafeteria. The man turned to me and gave me a smile.

"Hey Dawn," he greeted me, noticing my sharpened pencil and my ripped up sketchbook. With a start, I realized that the man knew what my name was.

I tried uttering out a sentence, but no words came out of my mouth. I looked down, ashamed and embarrassed, when the man said, "It's okay. I know you have this condition - was it... mutism?" I looked up with surprise. How much does he know about me? Is he Mom's friend?

The man gave me a smile. "I guess I'm right." Looking down at my ripped sketchbook, he sighed. "The school office told me about you. They said you couldn't speak for some reason, and they said all you did was draw." A lie. He's lying. He looked up at me, he blinked, surprised at my expression, which pretty much read: Who are you exactly and what do you want?

"...not to mention you're pretty impatient sometimes. Well," the man laughed, extending out an arm, "my name is Alfred F. Jones. I'm supposed to keep an eye on you until your Mom... well, recovers."

I looked down at his hand, and I slapped it away, glaring at him. No ties or friendship, my mind had told me before.

Alfred sighed, and gave me a smile. "Well, that's a first."

- America POV -

- Flashback -

Hey Apple! Hey Apple!

I tossed and turned on my couch, hugging my hamburger pillow, trying to block out the Annoying Orange's voice, which happened to be my ringtone for my phone, for some freaking reason.

Hey Apple! Hey Apple!

Covering my head with a pillow, I grumbled, "Keep it down," and tried not to listen to the Annoying Orange, until...

Hey Apple!

WHAT?

KNIFE! (XD)

"ALRIGHT, SHUT UP ALREADY!" I screeched, grabbing my phone and throwing it across the room. Glaring at the wall for a few seconds, I just realized that I threw a perfectly fine iPhone 4G across my room, and right now, it should be pretty much broken.

"OH CRAP!" I jumped off of my couch, turned on the lights, and made a mad dash for my wall, jumping over my furniture like a ninja. That iPhone is right next to hamburgers in sentimental value! I'm dead if it's broken!

Vaulting over scattered chairs like an Olympic gymnast, I reached the wall and looked down, worried. To my relief, the iPhone was fine. Except the caller i.d. for the missed call was not.

The screen had - cue mock gasp - had the picture of England on it. And exactly thirty seconds ago, he tried to call me.

Grumbling, I picked up my phone and fumbled with it, and managed to redial England's number within a few seconds. After a couple of rings, England picked up. This better be good.

"Now you call me, you git," the Briton spat. "What took you so long?"

"Just so you know, it's like, 5 a.m. at my place," I muttered, running my hand over my hair. "What is it?"

"We need to talk." No duh, Sherlock, aren't we talking right now? "I received a call from someone that she wants you to keep her daughter accompanied until she 'recovers' from her 'sickness'."

"Okay then, who's this daughter? And wait, who's this woman anyway?" I demanded. I could imagine England smile as he replied, "Oh, someone. She's not really her daughter anyway; she's more of an adopted daughter, if you can imagine that. The mother is going away to Europe for awhile, and but Dawn believes that she is sick."

Wait, what? This lady is asking me to babysit her adoptive daughter while she goes away for her own benefit? I felt anger rising in me at the unfairness, and England put in, "By the way, please... make sure that you take care of the daughter very well; she has a speaking disorder, and she's hard to get along with. She loves seafood, though, and she extremely hates meat. She prefers vegetables and seafood, and she's allergic to cheese and peanut butter. Also..." England's voice had drifted away, and my head was spinning from all these foods that this daughter could and couldn't eat. "...and asparagus makes her choke, for some reason," England finished. "Do you have any questions?" Actually, I do.

"Hey, Iggy, will anyone be helping me?" I asked hesitantly. England huffed, obviously amused.

"Of course! I can't trust you alone with a child on her own," he told me.

"HEY! I'm not like France!" I protested indignantly. England laughed.

"Not at all. Actually, your helper should be here by now. Good bye, and good luck." Before I could protest anymore, England hung up. Suddenly after that, there was a knock on my door.

"Must be the helper," I guessed, and jumping over my furniture again and reaching the door. I opened it, shocked at how cold it was outside, and a smile greeted me.

Shoulder-length brown hair. Green eyes. Wait a minute... "Lithuania?" I asked incredulously. "Is that you?" It is the Baltic!

Lithuania, up close and personal, nodded and smiled. "Yes, it's me. Hello again, Mr. America."

"Whoa, so you're the one helping me with this daughter?" I asked him, grinning. "Come on in!" I opened the door wide, and Lithuania stepped inside, holding his luggage bag. I closed the door, and turned. Lithuania was holding back a laugh.

"What is it?" I asked him, blinking. "Is it my pajamas?"

"N-Not at all," Lithuania said, giving me an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, it's just that this place - it changed a little bit, but it's still the same after all those years!" I rubbed the back of my neck sheepishly, and nodded. "I guess so!"

"Now," Lithuania's tone became serious, "I was told by Mr. England that I have to help you in taking care of Dawn, the adopted daughter."

I nodded. "Yup, but how did this lady know about us?" Lithuania shrugged.

"Maybe... a friend of his?" he guessed. I stifled laughter, and chortled, "FRIEND? Iggy's friends with these so-called magical creatures!"

Lithuania smiled, and he said, "Well, we have to pick Miss Dawn up from school later, so I should clean the house while you get some sleep."

"Maybe I should clean," I put in, "and you traveled all the way from your place to get here - just to help me. I should do it; it's my house anyway."

The Baltic nation hesitated. "If you insist," he sighed, and picked up his luggage bag. Without question, he set off to the hallway, not even asking me where he should sleep, because he knew where to go. I smiled to myself. Maybe things would be less hard around here, huh? I thought.

- End of Flashback -

YES, I JUST DID A (somehow) LONG CHAPTER. :D *fistpumps*

How was this chapter? :) Good? Bad? Maybe you didn't like the use of the 'Bad Apple!' lyrics... ;_; I SHALL STAY STRONG. FOR MY READERS. XD

Yes, Dawn is a yandere, but not Russia-grade freakish. She just experienced loneliness for a LONG time, even if her adoptive mother (which you will know who it is in the next chapter ;) is there for her. OKAY, maybe a little like Russia. So what? X)

Full profile here:

Name: Dawn

Age: 13 years old

Appearance: elbow-length pure black hair; hazel eyes

Clothing: usually wears school clothes (maroon vest with white collar shirt and a red tie w/ a plaid skirt & leggings)

Extra: loves sketching and drawing; has a disorder where she cannot talk (Selective Mustism, I think.)

AND THAT'S IT! First reviewer gets a free jar of Nutella o3o Thank you for reading~ :)