Summary: But go ahead and ignore me, because I'm no one to you. I'm not your brother. I'm not your son. I'm not the friend you've known since pre-school…but I could be. Bullying awareness fic. One-shot. Character death. Human AU.

SkyGem: Well, I suddenly felt the need to write a bullying awareness fic, and since I've already done one for KHR, I thought I'd take a shot at enlightening my Hetalia fanbase (I doubt I have one yet, but I'm working on it; don't you worry). Anyways, I hope this fic doesn't end up being a waste of your time, and that it does make you think about things.

Disclaimer: I don't own APH.

My name is Matthew Williams.

Mathew looked around his room to make sure that everything was impeccable.

The bed was made, his books were on the shelf, his clothes were folded away, his posters had been ripped off the walls.

Perfect.

Matthew had never been one to burden others in his life.

And his wasn't about to start doing it in his death, either.

I'm a junior at Hetalia high.

Looking at the empty locker, Matthew felt a decidedly odd feeling in his stomach, something akin to nervousness.

But why would he be nervous?

He'd been planning this for a long time.

Shaking his head, the blond hoisted his heavy backpack onto his shoulders and closed his locker door, walking away with a feeling of dread.

Don't be surprised if you don't know me, though.

"Hey! You there!"

Matthew almost jumped out of his skin at the sudden shout.

Turning around to see who had been calling him, and saw that it was the principal.

"Y-yes, sir?" asked Matthew, stuttering slightly.

"You're not a student here, are you? What are you doing here?"

Not very many people do.

"A-ah, I'm just h-here to…drop off something m-my brother forgot," said Matthew in a sad voice, making up a lie on the spot.

The principal eyed him suspiciously for a few moments, and Matthew just kept his gaze glued to the floor.

Finally, the principal seemed to decide that Matthew was telling the truth and dismissed him, saying, "You better not make a habit to skip your classes, young man. Now hurry on; get back to your own school."

Let me tell you a little about myself.

"Yes, sir," said Matthew obediently, turning to leave the school.

As the blond made his way home, he didn't even notice the tears that had escaped, sliding slowly down his cheeks.

Matthew's mind was full of images, memories from the past.

I'm the five-year-old who used to run around causing mischief with his twin brother.

"Matthew! Alfred! Get down here!"

Matthew's head whipped up from the drawing he had been working on to look fearfully through the doorway of his and his twin's room.

There was a giggle from his brother, and the boy whispered conspiratorially, "Looks like they finally found it."

"This isn't funny, Al!" wailed Matthew in panic. "What if mummy and daddy get really mad at us for this? I don't want mummy and daddy to be mad!"

"They won't be!" assured Alfred. "After all, I'm the hero! They could never be mad at the hero!"

I'm the seven-year-old who had his world torn apart when his parents divorced.

"Boys…I'm sorry to say this, but…your dad and I are going to get a divorce."

"WHAT?" demanded Alfred, Francis, and Arthur, all at the same time.

Matthew, though, just sat there quietly, staring up at his parents with wide, shocked eyes.

Soon, the little boy noticed his vision start to get blurry, and he realized that he was crying.

Francis, the favourite of his two older brothers, immediately wrapped Matthew in a hug, whispering comforting words to the little boy.

"It'll be alright, mon cher. No need to cry."

But Matthew just shook his head, whispering a heartbroken, "…Non…"

Nothing was alright.

Nothing at all.

I'm the eight-year-old who was forced to leave the only home he knew and move to a foreign country.

"B-but why?" cried the little blond. "W-why can't Al come too?"

"Because Al needs to stay here and make sure that papa isn't too sad with you gone, mon Mathieu."

"B-but…I don't want to leave Al behind! Then I'll be all alone!"

"You won't be alone," contradicted his older brother, Francis, shaking his head. "I will be going to live with you and Mama as well, remember? And Alfred and Arthur will be staying with papa."

Matthew felt more tears come to his eyes, but didn't argue, merely throwing himself into his older brother's embrace and sobbing uncontrollably.

I'm the nine-year-old who became shy and withdrawn at his new school.

"M-my name i-is Matthew…" said Matthew fidgeting shyly as he tried not to look at all his new classmates, all of whose eyes were trained solely on him at the moment as he introduced himself to the class.

If Al had been here, he would have been practically bouncing off the walls, ready to make friends with everyone.

But Al wasn't here.

Matthew was all by himself and he didn't want to make any friends.

I'm the ten-year-old who was tortured ruthlessly by bullies every day at school.

"L-leave me alone!" cried Matthew, jumping up and down, trying to reach the belongings which the much bigger bully had taken from him. "G-give Kumaterro back to me!"

"I'm sorry?" replied the bully mockingly, "Mind saying that again? I didn't quite hear you."

"G-give him back!" repeated Matthew, slightly louder than before, but obviously not loud enough.

"I still can't hear anything," replied the bully mockingly.

Turning, the bigger boy tossed Matthew's stuffed bear into a nearby trashcan, saying, "Well, if you don't want it anymore, then I guess I'll just throw it out for you!"

"Kuma!" shouted Matthew, running up and picking the white bear out of the trashcan and hugging it tightly to himself, trying to hold the tears back.

I'm the twelve-year-old who rejoiced upon learning that he could return to his childhood home.

"R-really?" asked Matthew, his eyes wide. "C-can I really move back in with dad and big brother Arthur an Alfred?"

Matthew's mother smiled sadly, a little hurt that her son seemed so happy to move out of her house before saying, "That's right, honey. Your father and I have already arranged it. But you have to make sure you come and visit once in a while, alright?"

Matthew nodded enthusiastically; he'd agree to just about anything right now, if only it meant that he could return home, to where his brother was.

I'm the fourteen-year-old who was picked on by the very people he had used to call friends.

Matthew looked up into the smiling violet eyes of his tormentor, his mind going back to when he was younger, when the person those eyes belonged to was a friend.

Now, that friend had changed into a monster he no longer recognized.

Despite always being seen with a smile on his face, just like when he had been younger, his former friend was almost completely the opposite of what he had been like once upon a time.

"W-why are you doing this, Ivan?" demanded Matthew, unable to keep the tremor out of his voice.

The Russian just tilted his head to the side, a childish smile on his face, before replying simply, "Because it's fun!"

I'm the sixteen-year-old who gave in to his depression and started self-harming.

Matthew felt the stress slowly draining out of him as he drew the blade across the skin of his arm, watching in fascination as the blood dripped down his arm.

He shouldn't be doing this.

His brothers and parents would be devastated.

...If they even noticed something was wrong.

Matthew doubted they would.

They barely noticed him at all these days, if they weren't mistaking him for America.

…I'm the eighteen-year-old who decided to take his life.

Matthew was snapped out of his depressing memories when he saw that he had arrived at his house.

Letting out a deep breath, the boy pulled out his keys and let himself into the house.

His dad was at work today, and Arthur and Alfred were both at school, so he didn't have to worry about anyone trying to stop him.

Heading up to the kitchen, Matthew brewed himself a cup of his favourite coffee before rummaging around through the cupboards, looking for the bottle or rat poison he knew was there.

Finding it, the blond tipped half the bottle into his coffee, stirring carefully before taking the poisonous brew up with him to his room.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, Matthew hesitated just a second before taking a few sips of it.

Feeling suddenly tired, the boy put his cup down and lay down in bed, getting ready for a long, long sleep.

But you don't care.

Because I'm no one to you.

I'm not the friend you've known since preschool.

"It's true!" laughed Gilbert as he followed his best friend to his bedroom.

Francis just kept laughing at the story he had been telling him, not believing a single word of it.

The two passed by Matthew's room on the way.

Not having seen the boy in weeks, Gilbert decided to poke his head into the room to say hello, but the boy seemed to be asleep.

Shrugging, Gilbert was about to leave before he realized that there was something terribly wrong about the blond lying in the bed.

"Matthew?" he asked, approaching the boy who didn't seem to be breathing.

But that was silly.

Of course he was breathing.

If he wasn't breathing wouldn't that mean he was…?

I'm not your brother.

"Gil? What's wrong, mon ami?" asked Francis, stepping into the room with a frown on his face.

Seeing his best friend standing by his brother's bed, he jokingly said, "You better not be thinking of raping him, Gil. Even I couldn't forgive you for that."

Gilbert didn't even chuckle when he said that, and Francis started getting worried.

"Gilbert?" he asked, coming up behind his friend.

Then, his eyes travelled to his little brother, and he suddenly paled.

I'm not your son.

When Mr. Kirkland came home from work that day, the first thing he heard was one of his sons shouting in alarm, "MATTHEW!"

The man's heart stopped for a second when he heard the anguished yell, and he immediately dropped his suitcase to the floor, tearing up the stairs, already knowing something was terribly wrong.

When he arrived at his youngest son's room, the man felt a sob tear out of his chest at the scene he saw there.

I'm not your other half.

"M-Matty…" sobbed Alfred, clutching tightly at his brother's hand, tears falling like rain down his face. "H-how, Matty? H-h-how could you do this to me? H-how could you go and leave me alone?

"Please wake up, Matty, p-please! D-don't leave me! I-I'm not ready to lose you! M-MATTY!"

…But I could be.

SkyGem: So, what did you think? Like it? Hate it? Please review and let me know what you thought! I hope this made you think about some things…bullying is a terrible thing, and we need to put a stop to it.