Useless

This story is unedited

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia

A/N: Vintage venting right here, yo. My mother had the pleasure of making me realize how much of a failure I am in life and how, let's say, useless I am. But other than that, I had fun with balloons today. But if you breathe in too much, you'll fall down and get really dizzy.
Life facts from GAJ #1

Enjoy.

Hiding in a closet wasn't a very good idea. But fuck it, it was dark and enclosed, and Romano felt like no one would be able to find him in the depths of the dusty closet. His arms encircled his legs, the maids outfit scrunched up around his thighs. It was degrading to be in an outfit so short, but for now, Romano didn't care.

His reason for hiding was stupid, but it felt horrible and it made him grit his teeth as his eyes burned. Again, being the clumsy brat that he knew Spain thought he was, he knocked down a shelf of books. That, in turn, resulted in the shelf knocking into the fucking wall that was placed just so it left a huge hole in the wood.

He had stared at the mess, his mistake, for a few moments, before he heard Spain yell his name from somewhere else inside the house. Instead of replying, or doing what he might have usually done and try to hide the mess, he turned away from the direction of Spain's voice and ran, staggering.

Now, here he was, wallowing in self hate and self pity, hating the world for making him feel so. Romano knew the scolding he would get, the disappointed look that would hurt more than what he would imagine a physical punishment would feel like. He would probably be sent to his room without dinner, or something, and that was all the punishment he would receive from Spain.

That doesn't change the damned fact that he screwed up, again, and that Spain was probably bemoaning his pathetic luck with getting stuck with him. Being stuck with him, and not his little brother, it was unfair. Even Romano could see that, he would choose his fucking brother of himself. But only Romano would be the unluckiest person in the entire fucking world and be stuck compared to his little brother, his accomplishments (what he felt like accomplishments; hell, managing to sweep without knocking anything over is like winning the whole world to Romano) always being overshadowed by little Veneziano's huge ones.

Romano didn't realize he was crying until a chocked noise was forced out of his mouth. He was hurting, and he didn't know what to do. He wanted to go to Spain, to see if the tomato bastard will do anything to help. But at the same time, he didn't want to see Spain, the knowing look of disappointment, and that itself will break something in Romano.

He didn't know what to do but cry and stay still, his face buried in his knees. His sobs were muffled, but growing louder.

At last, the numb feeling of being tired, having no more tears to shed, Romano wiped furiously at his eyes and sniffled. He let his head fall backwards, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes against the darkness of the closet. If he listened hard enough, he could hear Spain's worried callings of his name, but at the moment, Romano was too caught up in his own question.

Why am I so fucking useless?

Review, Favorite, or whatever you do on stories that you read.

-GAJ