C H A P T E R 16: Braindead

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[ Warning: Suicide attempt, self-hate, divorce, swearing, etc.... You already know this lmao. A chunk of this chapter is also based on personal experiences from my childhood.

I may or may not have ranted too much about child trauma, ignorance, mental abuse, abandonment, and the impacts of divorce through the narration, thus this will be a long ass chapter. ]


Well, Bayani is missing, the Big Three are back in business because of him, Europe is concerned why the hell is the Royal Navy aggressively scavenging around the seas (Britain told them to not worry about it, but it's still suspicious-), Khloen's grades are dropping because he feels that it's his fault that Bayani is gone after that whole incident with Ladonia and the aftermath of it with their grandparents, and Ikaria and Filetinno are very worried as well.

On the bright side, America is starting to feel something; a slight bit of regret. Soviet could've sworn that America almost laughed at the fact that he was planning to drown Bayani in the first place but it seems that the kid did it on his own accord anyway. Whether debating which - child murder or suicide - is worse is not important as of now, nor is Soviet beating America to a pulp, so they continued focusing more on finding him.... Or at least finding his body.

Speaking of Bayani, we've previously went over with what Soviet and Britain did during their weeks of isolation. Bayani, on the other hand, was truly the one in isolation; locked in his room to sob and die. During his week, he has done nothing but silently lay drape in bed, crying his eyes out until his eyes start burning from the tears. Little him never knew nor understood how tears could hurt, but it was a straight fact that his bloodshot eyes are surely in a lot of pain now. Not only that, but he slowly began starving himself. Sometimes he would chew on his pillow and/or blanket but that's it. Day by day, he lost himself. Being in his colourful bedroom filled toys and sparkling with his glow-in-the-dark stickered ceiling felt more and more sickening. It wasn't as magical as he initially believed in and the toys around him felt more like things he craves to destroy. Anger towards himself filled him whole and he took it out on his soft friends.

He felt so worthless. He was the bane of everyone's existence, wasn't he? Only a few years after he was born, his parents immediately have a divorce. He never belonged in America's family for being too Asian, and he never belonged in Philippines' family for being too western. He didn't belong anywhere. They always claimed that he was too young to choose for himself so he just had to watch his papa Philippines disappear from his life. Maybe they were right. He was so scared and confused when it happened, but slowly he began realizing that he's never coming back. Philippines almost sounded so taboo in America's side of the family so he never mentioned him again. He had so many questions about why it all happened, or even how. Does Philippines not love him anymore? Maybe that's the case. Why else would he leave him with America? That bastard used to be Bayani's hero. When he was a toddler, he would always look up to him. Not only literally though. He thought America was always so cool. He was like the superheroes he watches on TV. FIghting bad guys and saving the day. Sure, all of that isn't as easy as he thinks it is, but it didn't matter to him. He loved his parents. He loved Philippines. He loved America, but it seems that neither of them loves him back. Why else would they leave him? Slowly, living with America became more of a never-ending nightmare rather than a happy dream. America got bored of him and cared for him less and less. America had a lot of free time for the most of the time. Bayani could clearly see that, but does he care to bond with him? No. Who would? Kids are dumb. They won't care. Not at all. Kids don't even remember anything. They're too young for that. Of course they won't care if you ignore them.

Being thrown away is nothing. Bayani should even be thankful that there's a law pertaining to child murder, because if there wasn't, America would have happily tied that heavy rock to his leg and threw him off the boat to die. Nobody even knew who Bayani was, so no one would care if he died.

No one needs him anyway. He has 50 other older brothers and sisters, and a shit ton more cousins who're more developed than him. Because that's the standards of society, isn't it? When you develop slower, you're worse. You're a kid who can't be the next Alber Einstein, well damn, I'm sorry but you deserve nothing less than being a garbage collector. Hell, a garbage collector could probably do a better job than you. You're a kid who's shorter than everyone else for your age? I've got good news for you, you're a circus freak. Too bad P.T Barnum isn't alive anymore. He would have taken Bayani to force him into child labour; be laughed at for his physical defects.

Bayani's mental development doesn't matter at all because he's just a dumb fucking child.

And surely, the kid himself felt it too. If he was better, why do people ignore him? If he was better, why did daddy and papa abandon him? If he was better, shouldn't Grandpa Britain and Soviet be happier that he's there with him? He's a walking disaster. He can't even make a whole year of a prestigious school built solely out of societal norms and aristocratical high standards. He tried to help his newfound friend, but it ended up with things becoming worse. His grandparents caused a scene at the campus; a rather bloody one at that. If he only listened to them and stayed away from that son of a bitch and a slut named Khloen then perhaps things would've been better for him.

Maybe what he thought was kind was wrong and he should've gone with the right way.

It's all his fault. He's sick in the head. He's braindead.

He shouldn't have been born at all in that case. He means nothing to this universe. Thus, his letter. The least he can do is apologize for being conceived. For the first time in what felt like forever, he gingerly took his leave. Upon stepping out of the door, he heard Grandpa Britain in his office. The door was wide open and he sounded distressed. This was when he had the call with America. Bayani didn't even bother to eavesdrop on him but upon hearing his name intrigued him. He wasn't sure what they were talking about but hearing that he's going to be thrown away somewhere else again was all he had to hear. It was more than enough proof as to why he doesn't belong anywhere.

Mindlessly, he walked the streets all night. Only having Mr Snugglemuffins, a Matryoshka doll, and other little toys with him. He didn't even bring his penguin backpack. It was surprising that he managed to walk on for miles. He looked rather malnourished; bloodshot eyes, thin body, bruises, dirty clothes... He looks like a walking zombie. But then again, he pretty much is a discarded monster in the eyes of many. 

It was at the dead of night and he found himself by a sandy shore off the coast. His cousin Boracay would always boast his beautiful beaches to him. The sea was beautiful, Boracay was right. Bayani couldn't help but just deeply stare into the waters. Shortly after, he wanted to get closer to it. And not in a nice way at all. He took off his socks and sneakers and relinquished them into the rough sandy surface in a haphazard and slapdash manner. He inched closer to the watery blue of which moonlight reflected from and felt the cold water hit his skin. It made him flinch a little but nothing he can't handle. A few steps more, the more the rest of his clothes were immediately soaked.

He continued on which only lead for him to be pulled deeper from the weight of the clothes, as the surface below him slowly disappears too. He lost all thought and he was terrifyingly one with the water. He was going deeper and deeper; his body submerged as the large body of liquid quickly engulfed him whole.

He was drowning. He couldn't breathe. He didn't utter a single sound.

With the broken mindset of unworthiness of any life, killing himself felt better.

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