I don't know what brought this on….
. Useless .
I sat on the edge of my bed, feet touching the cool wooden floor. The sun shone in through my window, bathing my back with it's warm light. I barely noticed it though.
I was supposed to be training with Germany and Japan today, but I sat here instead. Germany would be angry with me. He would come storming over here any time now, yelling about how I was useless, like he always does. Germany was always scolding and yelling at me for being useless, so was fratello. All the time. Everyday. Every month. Every year. Japan scolded me as well, he didn't yell, but the scoldings were harsh. Much like how Mr. Austria scolded me.
Scolding. Yelling. Screaming. Shouting.
Crying.
They put me down, made me feel small, like dirt. It's like they didn't care about how I felt. To them, I was just stupid, pathetic, weak, useless North Italy.
Yes I was really weak, but I wasn't useless! No, I wasn't very bright, but I wasn't dumb as a doorknob! If only they could see that.
But no. They could only see my bad points, and used them to make my life a living hell. Fratello, Germany, Japan, Mr. Austria, England, America, everyone! They all did this. They were all the reason why I cried myself to sleep every night. Why I'd cry whenever!
Well, I was done with this. I was done being stepped on and treated like dirt. No more. I just couldn't take anymore.
I couldn't take my brother and my "friends" hating me. I couldn't take my love pushing me away so harshly. I couldn't take the cruelty anymore.
Tears of pain slid down my eyes as the knife cut deep into my wrist. It hurt now, but the pain would soon be over.
I smiled and continued to cry as I gazed almost happily at the large amount of blood flowing from my wrist.
By the time I heard footsteps coming up the stairs, I had become dizzy and collapsed onto the floor, blood staining the wood. My breathing became labored.
My bedroom door flung open, and I could hear fratello screaming. I saw Germany run towards me, and kneel down beside me.
"G….Ge…. German…" I struggled to say his name. My vision began to blur, and became nearly impossible to breath.
"Italy… You idiot." Germany said as he held me in his arms. I saw a tear slide down his cheek. "Verdammt!" I touched his cheek with my bloody hand.
"Ger…. Ny…. I…" I took a big gulp of air. "Ti amo."
And with that, Feliciano Vargas died. His bedroom filled with the sounds of Germany and Romano's hysteric wailing.