Hey guys, this is actually a pretty serious fic here. (despite my awful writing abilities) There is actually a reason for me writing this. This is kinda sorta a song-fic but not really. Like I based it on (an amazing) song and lyrics will be thrown in it but idk.

This story contains self-harm, depression, and suicide. If you are uncomfortable with these subjects, I suggest you go to a different fic now.

The song I based it on is "The Lonely" by Christina Perri. (search it up in another tab and listen to it as you read it)

Hetalia as not mine. Nor will it ever be. -cries-

The song used isn't mine either.

–

Feliciano stared up at his ceiling as he listened to the rain pitter patter against the roof. He was lying in his bed; unable to sleep. This was a regular occurrence at this point. He looked at his clock and saw it was 2 in the morning. He stared at it for a moment or two, wishing for the time to faster, but for what? He had nothing to look forward to. No one to see. When they day comes, it will just be more time passed of him in his house...alone.

World War 2 had ended more than a year ago. While everyone was happy about it; he was not. Surely at first he was, hell, he celebrated for a week at the end of the horrendous war. Of course Ludwig and Kiku weren't seeing as the axis had lost and they had to pay for a lot of the damages caused in Europe, but everything was at peace, for the most part. But as months went by, the 2 nations had slowly distanced themselves from the Italian. He didn't notice it was happening, not for the longest time. Not until he realized he was completely alone.

It started with Kiku, he had felt so ashamed with the loss that he hid out of sight from everyone. Even when Feliciano tried approaching him to comfort him, he threatened to kill him. Ludwig had told him it was only natural for a nation to feel such a way after a losing a war where they gave their all. Especially with a nation like Japan, where honor was a key thing in everything they did. He had to respect the Japanese man for that; he truly did give his all. But even after he came out of hiding, he still kept himself distant from his former allies. He would talk to them occasionally, merely out of politeness if anything. But soon, he had cut all connection with them.

Next it was Ludwig. He had stuck with the Italian for awhile after the war. Feliciano had felt really close to the German, they were best friends. Or atleast, that's what he thought. When they lost the war in Europe, Ludwig was furious. Especially since Feliciano had not only surrendered but actually worked with the Allies. Feliciano had apologized many times after and tried helping his German friend as much as he could after the war. He was always at Ludwig's house, much like during the war, but Ludwig had actually been okay with it. He wasn't going to lie. He had loved Ludwig. He couldn't tell him though since Ludwig still held to some ideals that his boss had brainwashed into his mind. So for the sake of his safety and their friendship, he kept silent about his feelings. But eventually, much like Kiku, Ludwig began to drift away from the Italian. What was once frequent trips turned far and few due to work. Ludwig still had made attempts to talk to Feliciano, but they were always short conversations. Nothing like the ones they would have during the war after training, when they would sit under a tree eating pasta and wurst. Soon any kind of conversations they had were gone, leaving only a few nods of acknowledgment as they passed in the halls of meetings. Last month was when Ludwig stopped even that much. And it tore at Feliciano's heart like a dagger. What he had wanted with Ludwig couldn't happen due to his ideals, that already hurt. But not talking to him at all, not even a nod, broke him. That was when his depression hit him. That was when he started cutting. He held his wrist, remembering the crimson zig zags that decorated his fragile arms.

He stood by the window, watching as the rain that hit the window slid down into streams. Much like his tears those nights when Ludwig had first started ignoring him. When he realized his love would never be returned. It brought back painful memories of when he was a child, the nights he would sit by the window of Austria's house, crying, waiting for his first love to return. When Holy Roman Empire left for battle, he had promised Feliciano he would come back. So every night after that, he sat there and waited. He wouldn't eat, wouldn't sleep. He would sometimes forget to blink. He had cried endlessly waiting. Even after he was told that he would never return, he kept on hoping that somehow, someway, he was alive. Even during his adulthood, he would reflect back to the words he had told him. The promise he made. The kiss he left him with. He took a deep breath, trying to keep from crying. But its no use, the tears fall despite his best efforts.

Last but not least, the worst part of it all; his own brother, Lovino. Left him. They never had the best relationship, but they were still brothers. When worse had come to worse, Lovino was there for him. When they unified as one Italy and they lived together, Lovino would help Feliciano get through his far and few crying fits. When it stormed and lightning struck, he was there to hold Feliciano. Even during and after the war when he felt sad about Ludwig, despite Lovino's hatred for the man, he comforted him and gave him advice. But alas, like everyone else, he left. He grown tired of helping his younger brother, he had his own problems. Feliciano understood that. But it didn't make it hurt any less. When Lovino grew distant, he wasn't subtle about like Kiku or apologetic like Ludwig. No, far from it. He was nasty to Feliciano. Every time he tried speaking to his older brother, he would just look his way and glare, or say something mean. At one meeting, he had actually had Feliciano in a corner, yelling at him on how he hated him and he wished he was dead. Feliciano would have broken down crying right there if hadn't been for Antonio, who dragged away the angry Italian from the frightened younger one. Then last week, Lovino had made it clear to everyone that he loathed the idea of even being called Italy, knowing it meant he was connected to Feliciano. He left the meeting early that day. He hasn't left the house since.

Tears were streaming his face now, soaking his shirt. He fell to a ball beside the window and began bawling. His hands pulled at his hair in frustration, he kicked the wall wishing to lash out at something, someone. His eyes burned from the excessive tears. His face having almost permanent trails from endless nights of him crying himself to sleep. He rolled over and punched the ground, screaming with all his might. No one would hear him.

No one would care.

He was a shell of the person he used to know well. He was no longer the happy Italian that would greet everyone, that would offer to make everyone pasta or pizza. He hasn't even eaten pasta in months. He felt so empty. As though there was nothing left in him to even get out of bed. He wouldn't look at others the same anymore. He doubt he even had a shine in his eyes. They had dulled long ago along with his heart. He got up slowly and made his way back to bed.

The silent sound of loneliness wanted to follow me to bed.

He went to the drawer of his night desk, looking for something. Once he found it, he sat back down on his bed and pulled up his sleeve. He looked at the blade that he held, staring at it. As though it held the answers to his problems. In a sick, morbid way; it did. He closed his eyes as the blade glided across his skin. He didn't need to look, he felt the crimson liquid spill over his arm, and onto the floor. He continued that process covering every inch of his arms with the pain he felt in his heart. When he stopped to look at his work, he realized; it wasn't enough. He didn't want to feel the dull pain the blade brought him. It was never enough to match the pain in his heart. He'd rather not feel anything at all.

Coming to this epiphany, he stood up and stared at the ground. He was really going to do this. Why didn't he think of it sooner? He smiled, the first real smile in months. He was finally going to escape this pain.

I'll let The Lonely in. The Lonely will be there with me.

He went into the middle of the room, and began dancing. He didn't know why, but the thought of finally being at peace overtook him. As he span around and danced, danced with The Lonely, he sang. A quiet lullaby.

The Loneliness will stay with me...and will hold me until I finally fall asleep.

He ran, no, skipped outside into the rain. Singing as went to his final destination. He felt the rain soak and stream down his face.

Or was it tears?

His clothes were drenched, his hair soaked with the water that poured on him, as though God himself was crying for him.

That can't be...God doesn't love me...

He laughed at the thought. No one loved him. He continued to skip and dance even after he tripped several times, mud decorated his skin and clothes. Some of it sticking into his scars and open wounds. But he didn't care.

He stopped finally, looking out onto a cliff. He wasn't even sure how he knew there was one or how he knew how to get there but at this point, he was far from caring. He looked over it, seeing how far down it was.

He was really doing this.

He was going to be free.

Broken pieces of

He took a deep breath.

A barely breathing story

He closed his eyes. "Addio, Ludwig."

Where there once was love

"Ti amo."

Now there's only me..

A peaceful smile appears on his face. He jumps.

and The Lonely.

He finally reached his happiness.

Dancing slowly in an empty room,

Can the lonely take the place of you,

I sing myself a quiet lullaby,

Let you go and let The Lonely in,

To take my heart again...

–

Oki, I didn't know how to end it but hopefully its ok like that.

I made this not for the sick joy of making characters depressed or anything like that, but its a way for me to vent any feelings ive been having as of late and also a kind of way to speak out to anyone who may feel depressed or anything of the sort. Now I don't mean "Oh i'm sad boo hoo pay attention to me" because that actually annoys me. I'm mean if you are legitimately depressed and feel like you have no where to go. So if anyone who reads this feels that way, talk to someone. It doesn't matter who (hell, i'm all ears...or eyes...whatever the case may be) I've had 2 people in my life kill themselves. My grandfather. And my friend. Both hit me hard and I have had a past where I have attempted it several times. So I know how your feeling.

If you liked it please review, it'd be greatly appreciated~