Easily the most depressing thing I've ever written. I was driven to write this as a way to siphon off my apparent depression. It's written in first person Stream-of-Consciousness style while I was listening to "God Help the Outcasts". At first this was supposed to be an entirely different character, but ended up turning into Halldora... I don't normally write in this style, but it's more emotional than third person

Title: God Help the Outcasts (The title's not really got anything to do with the story)
Rating: T
Warnings: Genderbended nation, depression, major angst, stream of consciousness
Characters: Norway, Denmark, Iceland, Sweden, Finland, Sealand
Summary: Being the only female Nordic is difficult for Norway

HETALIA: HIMARUYA

I hate myself. I see my reflection in the mirror and feel nothing but loathing towards it. Sometimes I hate it so much it hurts.

So I drink. I drink and I drink until the pain's gone or I pass out. But even then, after the pain is gone, I don't feel happy or relieved.

I feel empty.

Empty and alone.

And those hurt worse than hating my face and how I look.

I know what people say… "Just talk to someone! You'll feel better!" "I know how you feel, I'm there to talk to you whenever you need it, okay?"

I can't. People think I'm made of ice, cold and impenetrable. People judge, if I say anything to mess up their perceptions of me, they don't take me seriously. Worse, they'll accuse me of whining to get attention. It's a double-edged sword.

So I sit, and I exist, and I take it all in. It eats away at my consciousness, plaguing my every breath, every thought until I go back to the bottle.

Sverige glares across the table. Finland is concerned. Island looks annoyed. Danmark… he just sits there and blabbers on about a topic that I've forgotten.

Me, I have already gotten up and left the table. They don't notice anyway. It suits me fine, I prefer being alone. I've never been one of them anyway.

I hate being a woman. I hate being the only woman Nordic. I hate not belonging. I hate being so lonely I could die. I hate that I either can't or won't do anything about it. I hate that I can only watch while they have fun together. I hate that they're so happy… even Sverige with his constant glaring at Danmark.

I'm tired of watching, so I leave and go back to a house that is too big and too cold. I want so desperately for someone to see, someone to hear, someone to realize… but they won't. I know they won't. I need someone to save me from myself. I've spiraled downwards so far and so fast I can't pull myself out.

Please… someone, anyone, I beg you. Please… for the love of God… please come help me. Please don't leave me alone. Please don't ignore me. Can't you see me? Can't you hear me screaming?

Why won't anyone help me?

I just want to disappear or die. Whichever makes the pain go away. I feel so worthless, so empty. No one would miss me. I know this for a fact.

I should just disappear.

Damn you all… damn you for not seeing… for not being there when I needed you. Oh God, I'm crying now. I thought I'd run out of tears.

There is a man there, he says he can take away my pain. He says he'll take me someplace where I'll be loved and wanted and happy. It sounds too good to be true. I tell him I'll think about it.

What is there to think about? I ask myself. It's not like there's anything for me here. I tried and I tried and I screamed and I cried and I wished and hoped and through all that, nobody came. Nobody cared enough.

But Iceland…

No, I thought he cared, but I know better now. He doesn't want me. He doesn't need me. He was always telling me this when he rejected me. Did it never occur to him that maybe I needed him?

I've made up my mind. I want to go with the man, I want to know love and happiness, I want to feel them. I want to wake up every morning and not hurt with loathing as I see myself in the mirror. I want to know what it's like to be part of a whole instead of just watching from the sidelines.

I don't want to cry anymore. I want to be warm and smile all the time.

I want something more than this wretched existence.

The man stretched out his hand to me, smiling kindly. As I am about to take it, something settles on my shoulders, something heavy. The man begins disappearing and I fight against what's holding me back. Wait! Take me with you! You said you would! Please! Don't go! Don't go! I don't want to exist like this anymore! By now I am sobbing and screaming, unable to do anything as the man disappears completely from view. Before I know it, he's gone and I am left here, feeling emptier and more alone than ever before.

My knees give out and everything fades to black.

There is someone calling my name. His voice is frantic, almost terrified. Please go away, I want to be alone.

She's going to pull through now. An exhaled breath. There is a pressure on my hand, it's almost too tight. Let go, Fool, you're hurting me. I open my eyes, wincing in the bright light.

Then I hear it.

"Stóra systir."

I turn my head, seeing my little brother red-faced, rubbing furiously at his eyes. He has obviously been crying. Silly little brother, there's no need for tears… I am about to say before he swoops down and hugs me tight, sobbing into my shoulder.

I feel… warm… happy. I hug him back. I'm confused though, I have no idea what's going on. Something important obviously. Sverige and Finland are here, and they brought Sealand with them. Before I can ask, another body has joined Island's. Danmark… he's crying and blubbering quite loudly in my ear. It's making my head hurt… idiot. Now I know I've missed something important.

I had been very ill, Sverige explained. So ill that the doctor feared I wouldn't make it. I make the mistake of wondering why they cared aloud. The room falls silent and I hurriedly mutter out something. Danmark pulls back to look at me. There's hurt in his eyes as he frowns.

Why didn't I tell them? That's not a question I want to answer. Sverige ushers Finland and Sealand out of the room leaving Island, Danmark, and myself. They won't leave me alone until I explain myself. So… at first very reluctantly, I begin to tell them. As I do, the tears return. I finally trail off, too distraught to continue and Danmark and Island can only stare at me in shock. I can't look at them, I'm too afraid to. They might pity me, I can't stand it.

Island hugs me again. I'm grateful for the contact and the warmth it provides as I just bury my face in his shirt and let go of centuries of repressed emotions. Danmark makes a noise and the two of us turn to look at him. He's pouting. He wants to hug and kiss on Norge too he says, very much like a large child.

I protest weakly, but in the end he pulls me onto his lap and rains affection on me.

So this is what it feels like to be loved. Danmark kisses me, winking at Sverige as he and his family return to the room. I see Sealand make a face.

I smile.