Hey guys! I decided to put my writing out there (even if it does suck). So please read this new story of mine. Sadly i do not own Hetalia or Arthur, Alfred, or Kiku. I own nothing besides my OC Aimi.
So here I am once again in the home of my dead father…the father that I killed. Now I know you, the reader of my sad life, is wondering why and how I ended up killing my father but let me say this things are not what they always seem. You will find that out after you read the happy yet tragic life that I call mine. Oh who am I you ask. I'm princess of the demons and humans, Aimi.
It all started 3 years ago when I was just a regular middle schooler. I lived in Osaka, Japan with my mother and my grandmother. It was quaint and everyone was sweet and always helped each other out. However, people treated my family different because we didn't have a man in the house. In that town, every household had a man in the picture but mine was missing. Well, not really missing but he was far from where we were and it was best kept that way. Why? Well because my dad was king of the demons. The demons he ruled were not evil, yes some were like humans, but, demon there meant that they had superpowers so to speak. Well before I get into detail, I should talk more about my dad. My father's name was Takashi Hiro or Hiro Takashi; he was a tall, strong man with silver hair tied in a ponytail and pointy ears that looked just like dog ears. He never came around after I was five years old. My mom said it was for the best but my grandmother was always bad mouthing him. They never told me why he left but after my 15th birthday, no more words came out their mouths.
January 15, 2003 is the date I will never forget. I walked into my small townhouse calling for my mother. While I was calling for her, I heard muffled voices in my mother's room. I took my shoes off and ran to her room scared that something happened to her. I kicked down the door and what I saw will always burn a hole through my heart. I saw my dear oka-san on her bed with her head cut off. I screamed as loud as I could, I was only 13 at the time. I saw everything; her spine was still connected to her head but separated from the body. It was a bloody mess. I ran out of her room, terrified that the person who did this was still in the house and then I thought about my grandmother. I ran to her room as fast as I could and when I opened her door I saw her looking outside through her window. I sighed, thinking everything was fine and she was okay. I walked up to her calling her name and when she didn't answer, I frowned. 'Why is she ignoring me' I thought as I put my hand on her clothed shoulder and turned her around. My eyes widened as big as saucers and I froze in that spot. My grandmother had a knife in her forehead that came out at the back of her head. It was obvious that she was dead as well and I was all alone in the world.
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