Hushed conversations about countries were all that came to Canada's ears.

"Man, don't you wish you could be French? They are so dang gorgeous!"

"No way! I'd rather be Italian! Those are the cute ones!"

"I'd love to be British! Their accents are so cool!"

More and more of these comments echoed through the room. Canada looked at all the people speaking. Mostly girls, but there were some boys too. He sighed. What about Canada? Didn't anyone want to be Canadian?

"-German. That's what I'd be!"

"Japanese all the way. I love their eyes!"

Canada sank lower into his chair and sighed. He held Kuma closer to him. "At least you want to be Canadian..."

"Who are you?"

"I'm Canada..."

Then it struck him. That's it! These people don't know who I am! He sighed again. He knew it wasn't true. When you were bigger than England, and France, and America, people were bound to know who you were. Then, that's when they begin to ignore you.

"I hear Spaniards know how to party hard!"

Another thought flashed crossed Canada's mind. "Sticks and stones can break my bones, but words can never hurt me!" That wasn't true, and he knew it. Words hurt a lot more than America's crappy baseball throwing skills... And England's scones... And France's hugs. But that was beside the point.

Canada wanted to feel... well, wanted! He stood up. "I'm leaving," he said in a whisper.

France looked up at him from his chair. "Why leave mon ami? Don't you love the showering of compliments?"

Canada decided to answer the first question. "I... I have a curfew."

France gave him a puzzled look. "You live by yourself."

"I- I uh..." stammered Canada, "Kuma likes to know where I am at all times."

France pointed to Canada's arms. "The little polar bear is with you right now."

Canada sighed and walked away.

When he got home, Canada didn't bother to turn on the lights. He believed that your house should look like you. So for him, dark.

He quietly walked up the stairs to his room, and laid on his bed. He shut his eyes, trying to conceal the tears from within.

Nobody likes you... See? They all enjoy ignoring you... Even France let you go...

The taunting thoughts cut like knives across his mind. He quietly cried himself to sleep with one resounding thought.

Nobody wants to be you...