** Oh dear, slowly making a crawling return into my Hetalia… it's been ages since I typed anything for Hetalia, Time being a fine example of it.
So here is another story inspired by a Vocaloid song, some call it, "In a Rainy Town, Balloons Dance with Devils" or – as the completed version of the song should be called - "Ward Room 305" which inspired this story. Please read, thank you. **
In a white washed room that contained a white bed and an open window which showed the vast world beyond, a man sat glaring at the window bitterly.
How long had he been here? He didn't know.
Why? That question had no answer either.
Maybe it was because of that night, so long ago, on the ground among the car oil and rain, beside a flower shop and behind a dumpster, he found himself begging for mercy as he was torn apart by another man he thought was his friend.
He blew a curl of hair off his face as his fists tightened, remembering how he stayed on the ground long after the man finished with him and left. He was found the next day by a passerby, who helped if only little by just calling an ambulance and leaving.
He remembered that, during his hospital visit, he slowly became different. What was it? Maybe it was the fact he no longer had the kind, sweet thoughts he always had, but thoughts of a need to kill - someone had to stop breathing after what happened.
His father did the best he could to help him, but only failed miserably. That soon led to his discovery in his abuser's house, chasing him with a knife while laughing manically, "You did it, I know you did! How can they let a bastard walk free when he raped me? You deserve to die! Haha! Ahahaha!"
That's how he ended up here. Right...he didn't just plop down in here on his own free will.
But that man was still walking freely, laughing obnoxiously while his curl annoyingly flopped along, glasses halfway hiding the devilish glint within his eyes.
That was it, this was hell. That man had all of these white coated demons lock him up here so he could live in his own stupid joy. Perfect, just perfect.
Every day, these white coats would come in with a tray that only contained one pill and a small cup of water. He never took the pill, believing that it would only make him forget the crime committed against him.
So he pretended to take it, putting the pill in his mouth and cheeking it while he took a sip of the water, and waited until the white coat left to spit it out under his bed, which no one bothered to clean.
Every seven days, the white coat would enter with a smile on her face, brushing back long, brown hair while singing about how he would get a cake with his pill. Cake first, pill second, so it would be absorbed better. Haha.
Life was like this for five months now, and he had enough. He felt that abuser needed to be punished for what he did - now.
On the seventh day, the brunette entered with her normal smile, "Hello again, Matthew! Look what you've got today! A nice, delicious slice of cake!" she left the door an inch open behind her, Matthew just now noticed. Maybe, today would be the day...
"Whew! Not many other workers are here, I've been busy all day!" she set the tray on the bed, "There's your cake, eat up!"
Matthew only gave her an empty, sorrowful look before carefully lifting the fork from the tray. Why metal, of all materials? No matter, the cake was delicious as always, although this time he tasted... iron. An iron-y taste, like...blood.
"Was it good?" the woman asked, receiving a slow nod from Matthew, "Great! Now, time for your pill..."
"I don't want to take it." Matthew growled at her, hand tightening around the fork.
The woman blinked back at him in shock, "Matthew, you have to take your pill. You won't get better unless you do."
"How exactly am I sick? Let me guess, your devil boss told you that I was sick so I needed these, Oui?"
"Where in the world are you getting such ideas? Matthew, you're worrying me a little..."
"No, you just don't want to admit that it's wrong to work for the demon that he is." With that, his hand with the fork rose into the air before quickly being forced into the woman's neck, right above the collar bone - blood quickly shooting out and a scream echoing.
That was when Matthew made a mad dash towards the door, leaving the woman in room 305 to die next to the tray and above the countless pills on the floor.
Because there was a lack of workers that day, not many were there to catch Matthew as he shoved them all aside or bit them, finally making his way outside.
The house of the abuser, Matthew knew well, he had been inside countless times.
Back when they were very close friends.
Alfred was his name, a loud and obnoxious man that Matthew found a bond with. The two were almost inseparable, always hanging out every hour they could, frequently spending the night at each other's houses. They also picked on each other in friendly ways, Alfred laughing at the fact that Matthew's father worked at a flower shop, while alternatively Matthew laughed at the size of the eyebrows on Alfred's own father and little brother. Yet, neither one showed that it made them angry.
After a while, Alfred became clingy of Matthew, always calling his cell phone during the hours they were apart even though he knew Matthew was working. He also began to invade Matthew's privacy when they were together, hands around his shoulders or running up and down his legs - and a few times he groped Matthew, earning an angry slap and shouting.
Matthew loved Alfred, but as a friend. Nothing more, which was obviously not the case with Alfred.
He dare not resume thinking about the past as he sat in the bushes, waiting for Alfred to come home. Matthew already felt bad that he killed the nice white coat, but she was working for this so called past friend of his, so she deserved it.
But, hopefully, Alfred would be joining her soon.
"Mattie, Mattie, please, show some mercy!" Alfred's voice shook violently as he lay on the floor, staring at the knife Matthew pointed at him.
"I show you mercy?" Matthew's venom laced voice snapped, "Why, when you left me to be humiliated in the street after you selfishly had your way with me?"
"Mattie, I'm sor-"
"Sorry is nothing, now! You've been walking as a free man for far too long, using your damn white coats as your security, among your others who dress normally!" Matthew placed a foot on Alfred's stomach, pressing down as he continued, "You became my closest friend so everyone around you would believe you never did it. Don't deny it."
Alfred could only whimper in discomfort and fright, Matthew putting more weight onto his foot and aiming the knife at the neck.
"You've earned this. Adieu, Alfred F. Jones." With that, he leaned forward so that the knife was jammed into Alfred's neck, a loud scream the last thing that he made.
"I'm completely innocent! He was the one who raped me! He was never punished for it! Now he's dead, he's punished, who cares about him? He had all of you lock me away just so he could walk freely! Oh no, but look at what happened! I killed him! Killed him!" Matthew's maniacal laughter echoed throughout the white room he sat in, rocking back and forth in his straight jacket, "I don't care what the hell happens anymore! He's dead, like he should be! And I can rest knowing he's been punished properly! Like he should've been ages ago! Ages ago!"
Matthew's laughter echoed throughout the entire building for weeks on end as they tried everything they could to make him at least a little more tolerable.
But they could still hear his vocals, for months and months, and for years long after they had taken him to end his life at age twenty-three.
"He deserved his death! Deserved it!"
** SHORT, RUSHED, AND CRAPPY D:
So, let me explain, if you don't mind, I couldn't find someone who translated the song very well, nor are there many PV's of the song that I could find, so I went with what I got from the YouTube fan made PV I found. There was this girl who was raped by the flower shop owner, got pregnant, and went insane after the baby was a miscarriage and the guy who raped her was never punished. So, she gets thrown in the Ward, where she kills someone who brought her cake and broke out to go to the flower shop to kill the guy because she began thinking he was the devil and the white coats where his demons. I sorta took the idea, twisted it a little, and came up with this…piece of… art…work… *gestures like a fail Vanna White person*
So… if you could tell me what you liked about this/how I could do better next time that'd be great…
And remember, call me sick, call me weird, call me whatever you want, but don't call my crazy, because I'm Crazee Canadia.