Author's Note: I hope you guys enjoy this story. This author's note probably won't really change for the rest of the story, so you won't have to read it after you've read the first part. I'll put the story info here, I guess.

Title: Switch-A-Roo

Rating: T

Description: "Did you see the new kid? Gilbert, I think his name was. Yeah, he's weird. He doesn't change in the boys' locker room, his voice is a little strange, and the way he walks is almost like a girl! Oh, and did you notice he always wears a hat? Yeah, he's definitely a strange one."

Warnings: AU, fem!Prussia, PruCan, USUK, some swearing, France probably just being France. (I'll post a big !LOOK! If there's a warning for a certain chapter.) !LOOK!: Bullying and break downs in this chapter!

P.S: Hey, guys. I just noticed that I use parentheses a whole lot in this story. CHALLENGE TIME! Either by this fic is over, or whenever you decide to start, have a drinking game with whatever you're allowed to use (Pepsi, here I come!) and drink every time I use parentheses. xD

I dedicate this fanfiction, along with all my others, to God. May all glory be to Him.


I'm more jumpier than usual this morning. After breakfast, Mom had questioned me as to where her concealer was. I had told her that she threw it out yesterday. She let me go after that, but I don't think she was convinced. Then, when the person next to me slammed his locker shut, I flinched and whirled around expecting to see Ivan. Now, I think I'm safe in 306. Ivan wouldn't hurt me here, right? I mean, there's a teacher right in the attatched room!

And if my paranoia isn't enough, I feel really bad for blaming Francis for the picture. I'm just now putting the puzzle pieces together and realizing that it's most likely Ivan who is the owner of the picture. I decide to go apologize to him once Mrs. Krumse shuts up.

"Hey, Francis, I'm really-" I start, but he just walks across the room, completely ignoring me. I follow him. "Francis-" I'm once again cut off as he starts talking to somebody (still ignoring me!). "Fine, be that way," I mutter under my breath, walking away. I'll just have to keep trying later.

At least that's what I thought. I have no luck in trying to communicate whatsoever. Not even when I threw a note onto his desk in French class (which he never pays attention in anyway), nor when I tried to get Antonio to carry my message ("I only got to 'Gilbert says' and then he stormed off!"). Hm...how can I try to get him to talk to me...? IDEA! Imagine the floaty little lightbulb above my head now.

"Francis." Poke. "Hey, Francis." Poke, poke. "I'm sorry, Francis." Pokeity poke. "Extremely sorry. I didn't know. I just thought because you had a camera, and yeah." Poke. "Will you forgive me, Francis?" Pokey poke poke poke. "Please?" Poke. "With a cherry on top?" Poke. "Don't make me steal your vital regions to make you forgive me." Poke. POKE. POKE. REPEATED POKING. "Francis." I drag out the 'a' and the 's' on that last one.

Just as I think he is going to reply to me, Francis picks up his pace and doesn't even glance in my direction. I'm guessing I look pretty stupid with my finger in the air right then, so I put it down. Why won't he just listen to me? Well...I guess I kinda deserve it for being a bit of a jerk. Okay, maybe a lot of jerk. Man, it doesn't feel nice when a friend is ignoring you. The hallways are starting to clear out, so I decide I better hurry if I want to be in class on time.

I let out a little yelp of surprise as my shoulder is slammed into the wall. Ivan, again?

"The little girlie decided a little bit of hurt was too much for her. Is that why you didn't show up for the rest of the day?" He glares at me.

"Ah, I didn't mean it!" I squeak pathetically. Argh, where's super-awesome-and-tough-and-pretty-hot-Gilda when you need her?

"You deserve punishment, da?" With that, he roughly throws me over his shoulder.

I beat my fists against his back in an attempt to be put down. "Let me down, dammit! HELP! I'M BEING KIDNAPPED! SOMEBODY! Anybody? This is hopeless...IVAN BRAGINSKI! LET ME DOWN RIGHT NOW BEFORE I HURT YOU REAL BAD!"

"Stupid girl," he says simply. "You're pathetic and weak. Useless. Nobody would mind if you just died, da?"

Uh, oh. We're going on the bridge. I really hope he doesn't know about my fear. I gulp and try to continue shouting at him, but my voice goes all shaky. Ivan throws me against the railing. Ouch!

"You're afraid of bridges, da?" he grins evilly (I'm just waiting for the MUAHAHA! Or, in his case, the 'kolkolkol'). "We'll see how afraid you are. Kolkolkol." (Ah, there it is.)

In a flash, I find myself dangling from the railing. Is he trying to kill me or something? If he really knows that I'm a girl, he'd probably not try to FREAKING MURDER ME! Especially with how scared I am! I'm clutching the cold railing for dear life. In this situation, I guess I really am hanging on for my life. I know I can't fall (he was nice enough to tie me to a little protruding thing on the rail so I can't die), but I'm scared that I'll break the cords or something.

"Don't tell anybody, worthless girl. It's a secret, da? Kolkolkol." And I'm alone. How can he be so cruel? And to a girl!

I gulp again and try to swing myself up. Unfortunately, my attempt are fruitless. Somebody, anybody, come help me! I refrain from looking down, knowing that I'll only get more scared. Is he even allowed to do this? Can't he get expelled or arrested or something? I need to tell somebody, but I can't. They'll notify my mom for sure, and then she'll make me go to etiquette school. I guess this is a battle I'll have to fight alone, no matter how much I want help.

I kick my legs up to try and get a grip and be able to climb up. I just miss my target by an inch. It's no help that my legs still ache, or that my arms feel like they're going to give out any moment, or even that my hands are now starting to sweat, and I'm probably gonna end up slipping. Which will lead to my wrists possibly being torn off. Which will lead to me falling to my death. This is why I hate/am terrified of bridges.

Aha! I manage to get my feet in the little space between the bottom of the railing and the concrete. Now I just need to find a way to...There we go! I swing my leg and the rest of me up and over the railing. I'm shaking so badly, I can barely untie the cord from my wrists (I'm trying to untie it with my teeth. Stupid Ivan tied both my wrists). Now that I'm up, it's starting to dig into my skin, effectively drawing blood. I start to panic (it's a miracle I wasn't panicking while dangling) and twist my wrists in an attempt to break them free. More blood. Okay, it's not a whole lot, but it still hurts! I eventually break free from those cords that could have saved my life if I needed them to, but there's I didn't escape without a mark. The cuts left make it look like I was cutting myself.

I rush to my locker and pull out my black hoodie. This could hide the marks! I pull it over my head just as the bell rings, signaling the start of lunch. I was there for a whole fifty-five minutes? Well, Ivan taunting me and then threatening me probably took at least ten minutes, but still! And I was pitifully trying to get back up, thinking I was going to die for about half an hour. And then breaking myself free and getting back to my locker probably took up the remaining fifteen minutes. God, since when did I become so weak?

I start limping (just when I thought my legs were going to get better!) to the cafeteria and sit at my usual spot. I can feel a frown tugging at my lips, but I forbid myself to cry. I'm still terrified. I pinch my arm in hopes of restraining the tears, but all I end up with is a very irritated bruise, so I bite my tongue instead.

"What's up? Why weren't you in French?" a soft voice asks from behind me.

"Oh, hi, Matthew." I flash a fake smile. "Um, it's nothing. It's just...I was needed in the...library for something. I'm fine."

He puts his hands on my shoudler, and I wince (hiding it quickly, to my amazement) because he touches the shoulder Ivan ever-so-rudely slammed into the wall. "Are you sure?"

Painfully, I shrug his hands off. "You don't have to worry so much about me. I'm fine, really."

"Are you coming to the library after school today?" Thank goodness he's changing the subject.

I nod. "Yeah. I haven't been in so long, and my grades aren't exactly cooperating. I-I'm sorry for abandoning that."

"It's fine. Hey, do you-" Matthew doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence.

"Have you heard of zat Gilbert boy?" Francis's voice is purposefully raised as he talks to the person next to him. "Don't ever make him mad. He won't ever apologize. It's horrible." He puts his hand to his forehead over-dramatically. "Oh, how I've been ignored for so long!"

"Hey!" I slam my hands on the table (bad idea! Ow ow, wrists hurting...), abruptly standing up. "I've tried to talk to you, Francis, but you just won't listen."

"No, you haven't!" he protests. "I never heard you say anyzing to me!"

"Well, then listen now! I'm sorry for blaming you about the picture! It feels really awful to lose a friend, even if he does like making pervy jokes! Can you forgive me? Please? With a cherry on top?" I plead.

"..."

"Pwetty pwease?"

"..."

Feeling defeated, I sit back down and continue my lunch in silence. I don't even listen to Matthew, who's trying to talk to me, or Antonio, who is trying to tell me to just make up with Francis (even though that's clearly what I'm trying to do!). Can this day get any worse?


Yes, yes it can. We're playing survival flag tag again. I groan internally and make my way toward's Ivan reluctantly. Why am I giving in to him? That's a sign of weakness! The awesome Gilda is not weak! She's not weak!

"Become one with me now, da?"

"..." Come on, Gilda! Say no! Say no, NOW! "..." You can do it! "...Uh, yeah..." DAMMIT!

"Good choice," he lowers his voice to just above a whisper; even though I can barely hear him, I can hear his voice ringing clearly in my head, "girlie."

Ivan ends up winning the whole thing, but he still decides to punch my arm 'jokingly'. I'm guessing the fact that he hit a bruise (rather hard, might I add) is an 'accident'. I trudge up to the library, trailing behind Matthew. By now, I feel hurt all over, and I just want to go home. But I already told Matthew that I'd be there today, so I'll feel even worse if I bail. And on top of all that, Francis still hasn't said a word to me.

"I know you've told me to stop worrying so much," Matthew starts, "but I don't think you're okay."

The way he looks at me makes me almost want to break down and tell him everything right there. I don't want to, though. "I-I'm fine." I rest my head on my hand. The sleeve pulls down a little, and I hurry to pull it up again, but Matthew catches my arm.

"I noticed those at lunch. Can't you tell me what's wrong?"

I shake my head. I'm afraid that my if I talk, my voice will give away everything.

"Did you make those by yourself?" he asks.

I shake my head again.

"Can you tell me who hurt you?"

Once more, I shake my head. It takes every ounce of what little strength I have left not to fall into his arms and start crying, telling him about everything in my day.

"Can we just get to the math?" I ask through gritted teeth.

Taking one last worried glance at me, he nods and looks down at his textbook. "Yeah. Really, these problems are simple to operate, but easy to mess up on. All you have to do is..."

The rest I hear is just 'blah blah blah blah blah math blah blah'. I can't take it anymore!

"Can I go home now?" I cut him off.

"I guess. But, Gilbert?"

I turn and glare at him.

Blushing, Matthew doesn't meet my gaze. "J-Just don't get hurt anymore."

"I'm not trying to," I say quietly, voice shaking. Just when he is going to reply, I quickly walk out of the library, out of the hallway, all the way out of the school. Stop at the gas station, change, then all the way home and up to my room.

I can't hear any noise coming from West's room or from downstairs. It's unusually quiet, but I guess that they're just doing something else. I don't need to be there right now, though. At least, I don't think. I'm tired...I rest my head on my desk for a moment to rest my eyes. Just for a moment...

Ivan's tall figure stands over me, his eyes showing nothing but amusement. Is it amusing to make other people feel so small and insignificant? I scramble backwards and bump into a wall. The room gets smaller, closing in until there's only just enough room for us both to fit.

"Useless...worthless...stupid...pathetic...weak...nobody could care less if you just died..." his voice echoes, and it doesn't seem like it's in the room anymore. It echoes throughout my head. "Useless...worthless..." He repeats the insults.

I try to block my ears. "Be quiet!" I scream. "Stop it! Stop it! Shut up!" I start to shake uncontrollably. I want to get up and punch the crap out of him, but my body won't cooperate. "Sh-shut up! It's not true! It's...it's not true..."

The voice and body changes. It's Matthew standing in front of me, hurling the same stinging insults at me. I keep screaming what I was with Ivan, but my tears just start to come harder. But it's this one that hurts me the most. The one that makes the tears come down the hardest. The person shifts to my own father. I feel like I'm almost drowning in my tears. Then, he disappears, but all three voices chorus in my head.

"Useless...worthless..."

The small room I'm in starts to fill up with water.

"Stupid...pathetic..."

I pound against the wall. "HELP! HELP ME! I NEED HELP! HELP ME! HELP!" I screech. "HELP!"

"Weak...nobody would care if you just died..."

The water is almost completely filling the room. It's up to my neck now. It's covering my mouth, my nose.

"You deserved to die on the bridge," the voices say in unison.

"HELP!" I scream at the top of my lungs, bolting upright. My heart is pounding, and I'm shaking. I...I... "I CAN'T BREATHE! HELP! HELP ME!"

Both Mom and West burst into my room, instantly coming to my side.

"Honey, honey, calm down. What's wrong? Sweetie, it's okay," she murmurs.

"Gilda, are you okay?" West asks.

"I can't breathe!" I exclaim. "I'm drowning!" Tears have been rolling down my face.

"Gilda, tell me what's wrong. Please, I'm your mother. Tell me what's upsetting you." Mom pulls me into a hug and rubs my back.

"I'm drowning," I sob. "I'm drowning, and I can't breathe." I suddenly come to my senses, feeling embarassed that I just broke down. "I-I had a nightmare."

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

"N-No. I just want to f-finish my h-homework."

Reluctantly, Mom stands up. "Okay, but if you want to talk about it, just come, okay?"

"Okay."

She closes the door, leaving West and I alone in the room. Why is he still here?

"Who's been bullying you?" West demands.

"Nobody," I lie.

"I can tell when you're lying, Gilda. I know that you only wake up screaming when someone's been bullying you. It was that dream again, wasn't it?" Damn, he can see right through me.

I nod. Whenever I was bullied when I was younger, I'd have the same exact dream. Except Ivan and Matthew would be replaced by the taunters, and the insults also replaced. And I'd wake up screaming each time.

"Do you need me to kick somebody's ass?" He puts his hand on my shoulder. The same shoulder that has been touched far too many times today.

I wince. "Isn't that harsh language. Haha..." I lamely cover up my wince. Like I was wincing because of his language.

"Gilda, you and I both know that you've used worse words before."

"I'm fine. It's nothing I can't handle."

"So somebody is hurting you?"

"Get out," I say darkly. I can damn well handle this on my own!

"Fine, fine. Be that way." And I'm alone (again!).

My hands are shaking again, and I know that I'm crying. Again. Ivan's voice is still in my head, even after I've convinced myself that he was lying. He's lying. I'm not weak. I'm not, right? And now I think I've lost Francis as a friend completely. And Matthew most likely doesn't trust me. And Ivan's probably going to wound me tomorrow. I'm so glad this concealer is waterproof...

I make a decision. I have to fight back, or I'll never get over it. But how? How can I fight back against somebody so much stronger than I am? I can't do anything, that's what! If I insult him, he'll maul me. If I hit him, he'll hit back. How could he do that to a-and I can't believe I'm saying this-poor little defenseless girl? I literally am defenseless in this situation.

I abandon my homework and just flop on the ground. I lie there, curling myself into a little ball. Maybe Ivan is right. Maybe I am all those things. No, no, I know that I'm all of those things. I sure as hell don't feel strong, important, or cared about right now. I hate throwing pity parties for myself, but I really can't control my thoughts. Maybe this is why Francis isn't my friend anymore. Maybe I'm just a mistake. A stupid, pathetic, useless, wothless, weak mistake that nobody would care about if she just dropped off the face of the earth.

I force myself to keep going to school. To keep enduring this torture! At least Ivan isn't physically hurting me. It's just words. That's what I'm trying to convince myself. He's just saying words that mean nothing to me. Just stupid sounds coming out of his mouth. I can barely even hear his voice anymore.

"You're shaking," Matthew comments while walking home with me on Thursday. "Again."

"It's nothing," I insist.

"No, it's not. Gilbert, please tell me what's bothering you," he begs.

I force myself to look at his eyes. And that's when I break down. Matthew holds me in his arms and rubs my back, whispering things like 'it's okay' and 'you'll be alright'. At least, that's what I think he's saying. I can only hear parts of those words mixed with the insults from the reoccuring nightmare.

"LIAR!" I outburst. "You liar!" I'm not sure what I'm talking about; the insults or the comforting words. "You're lying to me. You have to be lying. Y-You have to be...Tell me you're lying. You don't mean those things! You...you wouldn't hurt me like that, right?" That's it. I'm hysterical. Somebody call the mental institution.

"Gilbert, what are you talking about?"

"Y-You're calling me all those mean things," I sob. "L-Like worthless and pathetic and weak! Y-You're lying, right?"

"I'd never call you those things," he whispers. "Where would you even get an idea like that?"

"Y-You and-" my voice catches, "-him are c-calling me those things."

"Who's 'him'?"

"I can't tell you."

"Okay, okay, shh..." Matthew tries to calm me down, but I'm letting out the tears I've forbidden to let go. Even at home, I stopped myself from crying. "You'll be fine."

"Ivan Braginski," I mutter.

"What about him?"

"It was him! He did this to me!" I wipe off the concealer with my hands roughly and roll up my sleeves, exposing bruises that haven't healed. I roll up my pant legs, showing the red marks on my shins. Finally, I tug my shirt up a little bit to show him some of the marks there. "He did this! I'm so weak." I pull my shirt down again. "I'm so weak..."

"Did he do anything else to you?" I can see in his eyes that he's furious, but he still manages to keep the same gentle tone.

I nod. "H-he..." I trail off. I don't want to talk about the bridge thing. Ivan said it was a secret, but I've already said so much... "He...the bridge...cords..." I fling myself into his arms (pathetically). "He left me hanging there! You can't tell-"

"Gilbert, this is serious," he interrupts. "If he was dangling you from a freaking bridge, he can get expelled, and you won't ever have to deal with him again."

"No, please!" I cry. "You can't tell anybody! You can't! I-It's a secret! Please don't tell! Please! Please. Please..."

"Gilbert-"

"Please!"

He sighs, giving in. "Alright. Alright. I won't tell." Pulling my chin up, he brushes hair from my face and kisses me. "You should tell me these things. I want to be there for you."

"H-He said-"

"Forget what he said then and focus on what I'm saying now. Next time somebody is bullying you, I want you to tell me. I'll always be there for you, even if the world is turning against you."

I feel a little better when he says this. "Th-thank you, Matthew. Don't tell, please. I'm begging you."

"Okay, I won't tell. Get home safely, okay?"

I nod and start walking towards the gas station to change. I reapply the concealer and walk home lonely. I can't believe I just told Matthew everything. I told him the things I wouldn't tell my own family! There's something wrong with me. There has to be something wrong with me.

My world feels like it's crumbling around me.


Author's Note: O.O Whoa, I finished this chapter all in one day. I started working on it as soon as I uploaded chapter six for an hour or so, then took a break, and then I started again at eleven thirty p.m. and kept working until now, which is three thirty in the morning. That is a total of...six or something hours for four-thousand words. That's a lot. Well, the whole time wasn't spent on just writing this. I'm too lazy to subtract the tiny breaks I took. So maybe it's really around four hours? I dunno...I'm tired...

Ren-Kyo: Reviews are wonderful!

-XiXi Scarlett (accompanied by her Renny-chan)

EDIT: Okay, I'm more awake now, and I'm about to post this. Well, I think this is a pretty good chapter for being written at the times mentioned above there. Um...Oh, yeah! I might be going to a Supercon in Miami, Florida! I'll be visiting there, and I might be able to go. I'm cosplaying as casual Gilda/fem!Prussia. I'll have a Gilbird (that I just finished making) on my head. If you see me, drop by and say hey. Don't say you know me from fanfiction, though. Say these exact words, 'I'm (user)! I like your cosplay! Gilda, right?'. ^-^" My mom doesn't exactly know I'm on this site, sooo...Anyway, this chapter is where stuff happens and the drama starts! He's an evil little Ivan, isn't he? If you think Gilda's reactions aren't realistic, they actually are. I had a friend who literally felt like this. Nightmares, crying stuff, and all. It was terrible. And the bridge thing, it happened once in my state. I forgot wheere exactly, but the guy who did it almost got away with it. Anyway, this A/N is getting waay too long, so review, please!

-XiXi Scarlett