HI! New story! This time 1p FACE family and broken hearts all around! Yes, I am working on my other stories. I was busy last week because we took a class trip to Washington D.C. It was a lot of fun until the bus broke down and we were stranded somewhere in central Virginia for three hours. I live in Alabama so we took charter busses. You know, the big smelly things they use for touring. It was fun. Except I am not used to snow at all and there were four inches of it on the first day. So I was freezing my butt off.
"Stupid fatass." America heard someone mutter as they passed him on their way out of the meeting room. Inwardly, he flinched but he continued his conversation with Canada as if nothing had happened. But, under the surface, he was willing his mask to stay on. Desperately trying to keep his walls up. After a hasty goodbye to a slightly confused Canada, America started to walk down a completely unused hallway. No one had any reason to be here but him. He looked at the celling and saw that old trap door. The one that lead to the Attic. It wasn't really an attic. Rather a crawl space between the first and second floors of the meeting building that he used to eavesdrop. He pulled the string and the rickety old latter feel out. Good thing he was hosting the meetings this year. Every year the host country rotated. Last year had been Canada, this year it was him. After an overheard conversation about him between Canada England and France, he decided to bug the entire building. Just with microphones. He had put them everywhere. The meeting rooms, the bathrooms, the hallways. The unused rooms like storage closets. Everywhere. He was crawling up into that crawl space because that's the only way he could reach the hallway microphones. Some of the things those mics picked up were not meant for innocent ears. Some of them overheard conversations that positively made him feel like his heart was being ripped out and stomped on and then being left to slowly bleed out on the cold, hard ground. One day back a long time ago, he heard a conversation between England, France and Canada that made him cry for weeks.
"Why do we even put up with him?" England asks France "He's so lazy and stupid. I don't see how a man like that could have any use at all." Canada makes a noise in affirmation. America, who was hiding in a nearby closet felt as if he had a knife sticking out of his chest. Their words stabbed him. Cutting deep into his soul, making him feel like he was bleeding on the inside.
"You're right," France said "He's so annoying. Always shoving that disgusting, greasy food in his face. He'll have a heart attack on of these days." America felt silent tears start to dribble down his face. That was his family talking about him. The people who he thought loved him and cared about him. If he didn't have them, who did he have?
"You're right." Canada said, speaking up for the first time, since the start of the conversation. America flinched, of all the people he never thought would think lowly of him, Canada was at the top of the list. Canada always visited him when he had a day off, was always willing to talk to him and listen to him when no one else was. "He can be such a disgusting person. There are times when I wonder if I'm even related to him or not. "
England laughed "There are times when I wonder if he's even human." America clamped his hand over his mouth to stifle the sobs he was sure would come bursting past his lips. He took his glasses off to keep them from being covered in tears. He managed to remain silent as his family continued to speak of him in ways he never thought they would. Once they left, America dried his tears and tried to make it look as if he hadn't been crying at all. The meeting building was deserted by then. America walked into the sunlight, but stayed stuck in the darkness. Words floating around his head, stabbing his heart over and over again
After that day, that conversation that had broken him, America bugged the meeting building. Every. Single. Room. And after that, began hearing other countries make remarks similar to those of his family at almost every meeting. That little incident with his family was nearly three years ago. And it was his turn to host the meetings again. This was the last meeting of the month, so everyone would be flying home either today or tomoroow. He had started to try to live up to their expectations. He took note of what they said and even went so far as to write it all down in his diary. He started eating less and exercising more. He spent more time working out than he did sleeping. He started getting his paperwork turned in on time and even early when he could manage it. He stopped playing video games, and only ate foods he deemed to be healthy. Which was hardly anything anymore.
But he wasn't happy.
He was never happy anymore. He never enjoyed anything in his life anymore. Nothing was good in the world anymore. There was no light, nor love. Who could love someone as disgusting as him anyway? No one he knew. And the remarks just didn't stop. Eventually, over time, he started to cut back on food so much, he was only one meal a week. He was sleeping three hours a night and even starting to limit his water intake. He cried himself into the three hours of light sleep he got every night and they were always plagued with nightmares about his friends and family laughing and taunting him until he woke panting and in a sweat only to realize it was a nightmare. But it was so real! They were probably talking about him right now. Laughing at his faults, saying how much they hated him. The razor was his new best friend. Silver and sharp it cut into his arms, legs, stomach, ribs, anywhere there was room deep, red blood seeping from wounds poorly bandaged because he didn't care. Never quite cutting deep enough to kill, although he had thought about it. He was just a stupid worthless man. What would they care if he ended his life? But he knew the odds of being able to successfully kill himself were slim. He was a country. But event through all of this, he had to be making some progress, right? He had to be getting somewhere. Eventually, he started missing meetings because He couldn't find the strength to stand up after a long day of constant exercising the day before.
That's when people started to notice. It started with Canada who had been feeling that something was wrong with his brother for a long time now. He tried calling ahead of his visit, but only got his brother's voicemail. He was worried now. America always picked up his phone. He left a message, packed his stuff and got in his car to drive to the airport. Once there, he got on a one way flight to D.C. There was no telling how long he would need to be there if there was something seriously wrong with America. He had called France and England and told them about his concerns. They had told him to call them once he got to America and seen whether he was okay or not. After being sexually assaulted by the airport security, he boarded his flight to Washington. After takeoff, he put his headphones on and fell asleep listening to soft music, relaxing his mind, and calming him down.
Well, I should have fun with this. Also, Why me? Is ending soon. I'm sorry. I don't want to end it, it's my baby, but I'm running out of ideas. :/