I curled up in a ball and cried. People at my high school called me names again. They tripped me and I fell and hit my head on a desk and it hurt like hell. I had already cut my arms when I got home and the blood was smearing onto my clothes and on my skin, but it wasn't helping this time.
Even though I had the love of my life, England, I was still depressed all the time. I felt safe only when I was with him. Every other moment I was scared. I lived in fear and depression. I didn't want it anymore.
I picked up my cell phone and called him. When he didn't pick up, I left a message. At that point, I was sobbing.
"England, I need you! They bullied me again and I don't know what to do. I already cut, and it's not working! I-I just want it all to be over, I can't take this anymore! I just want them to leave me alone, I don't know what's wrong with me! I'm ending it all...!" I yelled and sobbed into the phone while leaving a message. I hung up and threw the phone onto my bed.
I grabbed my razor and I scored it across my left wrist over and over, crying out every time it sliced my skin.
The amount of blood looked like it would never end. Soon, I was weak from blood loss and I was getting really dizzy. I slumped on the floor and my vision blurred with tears.
“At least it’s ending…” I whispered as everything faded.
~Third Person POV~
England pulled out his phone and saw that he had a missed call from (y/n) and she had left a message.
America was acting wild again, and he was being quite loud. They were at a burger shop, and of course America had ordered a burger while England ordered some sort of salad.
“Shut up, you git! I need to listen to a message.” England snapped.
“Is it from (y/n)?” America said in a cute voice.
England had a poker face as he said, “Yes, now shut it.”
He began listening to the message, and his eyes soon widened in horror.
“Dude, what’s wrong?” America asked, leaning closer.
America paled as he heard the words coming from the cell phone.
“I-I just want it all to be over, I can't take this anymore! I just want them to leave me alone, I don't know what's wrong with me! I'm ending it all...!”
“I have to go find her!” England began running from the burger shop, leaving his salad uneaten.
After a few minutes, England got to her door step. The door was locked. England slammed into the door and it broke open. (Hey, even England can get shit done when he puts himself into it.)
“(y/n)?! Where are you?!” England screamed as he checked the kitchen, the bathroom, the office. He ran up to her room and threw the door open.
“(Y/N)!!!” England screamed again as he ran over to (y/n)’s body. He was horrified at the blood on the carpet and on her, but he fell to his knees by her without a care.
England lifted her into his arms and held her like he would a small child. He cried softly into her hair, whispering “No, (y/n), no…” over and over.
America appeared at her door and he gasped. (It was a manly gasp, ok?)
“Oh my God…” America whispered, his voice wavering a bit.
When all of the countries heard of (y?n)’s suicide, nothing was ever the same. They were all better off than England. He hardly ever talked. He hardly ever argued with France anymore.
After (y/n) died, it was as if he died, too.
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