United States of Hetalia Production
This is what happens when I'm locked in a room with four 'normal' girls from my family after 3 days of them trying to make me 'ladylike'. I'm using Hungary because she's more of a tomboy and the whole 'thought she was a boy' thing.
Once upon a time, there was a girl.
"And then Taylor was all 'let's be friends again!' and I was like 'after all the shit you put me through? No way, bitch!'"
She wasn't like 'normal' girls though.
"Then she started crying. You know what I did? I laughed in her face. Like this: HAHAHA!"
In fact, she hated 'normal' girls.
"What's with the face, Elizabeta? You're not taking Taylor's side, are you?"
"No... I'm on nobody's side."
Her 'friends' had been trying to make her more 'ladylike' since college began.
"Ewww! Just look at this guy's profile picture! There should be a weight limit or something."
"I don't want to live on this planet anymore..."
"What was that, Lizzie?"
"I hate when people say something and leave it hanging like that."
They laughed at everything that she took interest in.
But of course, they never directly laughed at her.
"You gotta learn how to lighten up! You're with sarcastic people."
"Yeah, you're too sensitive!"
Because she knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of 'sarcasm'.
"Let's turn on the webcam to see what comes up."
"Andrea, cover your eyes."
It was her pet peeve. Making fun of someone you know nothing about.
"UUUUUGH! Did you see that Asian guy? Gross, right?"
"Ohhh, look at this little girl. Her black face going like 'Huh?' With her braces-"
All the girls in the room stared at her. "What?"
"I'm leaving," Elizabeta said firmly.
"Come on, Lizzie. You sound like you don't like hanging out with us!"
"..." Elizabeta walked out the door. But she stopped when she heard them continue talking.
"Did you see the look on Elizabeta's face? She acts like we did something wrong!"
"Don't worry. When we make her into a presentable lady, she'll learn how to not care about that stuff."
Then she heard them all laughing at her. Wondering what's wrong with her. Calling her weird. Laughing.
You mean you'll turn me into a cold-hearted backstabber like you, she thought miserably. She didn't just walk away from the room now.
She ran to the nearest source of comfort she could think of.
She knocked on the door in the boys' dorm with her head down.
A young man with ruffled, white hair opened the door with a yawn. "What the fuck do you... Oh, Liz. What are you doing over here? It's... two in the morning."
"Nothing, Gilbert." she responded dully. "I just needed to get away, that's all."
She sat down on Gilbert's bed. Gilbert's roommate and her best friend, Feliks, stared at her in concern.
She didn't say a word.
If she spoke, she would cry.
She couldn't cry in front of people that cared. That would just make them worry.
She couldn't cry, period.
Gilbert knelt down so that they were at eye level. "Liz. We know something's wrong. Tell us."
She still didn't say anything.
"Please?" Feliks pleaded.
Not a word.
Gilbert rubbed the back of his neck. Then he thought of something to say. "That braid in your hair looks pretty."
"Really! It, like, totally looks cute on you!"
"DON'T ENCOURAGE THEM!" she burst out. Her voice cracked. Bitter, hot tears rolled down her face. "Don't encourage them to keep trying! Don't make them keep trying to make me girly! I don't want to be a backstabber like them!"
Gilbert and Feliks were taken aback.
"But, Lizzie, you look cute now-"
"Why do you say that as if the old me looked bad?"
"No, the old you looks fine!"
"Then why does everyone keep trying to change me? Why does everyone act like wearing t-shirts are a crime and not talking shit about people is a sin? Why can't I be me?" She sobbed and held her face in her hands. "W-What's wrong with just me?"
Gilbert held his arms out. Elizabeta flew herself into them.
"I-I'd rather die then be like them..." she sobbed into his chest. "Why couldn't I be born a b-boy? Women are horrible monsters..."
"What happened?" Feliks asked.
"T-They were b-being racist and making fun of p-people they didn't know."
"But that's part of life, Lizzie."
"I don't care! I d-don't care if it's part of life! People d-die when you make fun of them!"
Gilbert grabbed her by the shoulders. "Liz." He gave her a serious look.
"Look, it's fine that you care. Actually, it's great that you care, but you can't let that drag you down! If it's not directed at you, you have nothing to be sad about. We know what making fun of people does; that's what makes you the better person. So you don't make fun of anyone; what does that make you? Awesome. What does that make them? Assholes. You have to ignore all the shitty stuff you hear around you and look ahead. In ten years, you're going to be top of the world and you get to laugh your ass off at those bastards and go 'Karma, bitch!' But you can't do that if you keep sitting here crying."
Elizabeta hugged him tightly. "A-Alright..."
Once upon a time there was a girl.
Gilbert walked out of the bathroom, surprised to see Elizabeta standing there.
Making fun of someone you know nothing about was her pet peeve.
That's what made her herself.
One of the girls came in right before I finished writing the ending and gave me a long heart-felt speech.
I took what I could and made it more like Gilbert.
It's finished at 4:30 in the morning and it's my first fic without censors.