America was always a crowd-pleaser with his big smile and giggly personality. But when a accident happens, he is left with a physical disability, and he goes into anxiety and depression.
Russia was blind. It didn't bother him, though. To him, it is...
There was still that small voice, telling me all the things I've done wrong.
'How do people eve like a brat like you?'
"Shut up!" I banged my hands on the table, the fork by my plate bounced onto the floor with a metallic clang.
"What? No one was talking," Said Kiwi, my eight year old sister, said.
"Whats happened? Your not eating, mon amour," (my love) France said.
'your too fat to eat!'
I look down at my plate. I've only took a few bites, well the voice blabbered on about how I'm fat.
"I'm not hungry," I said, pushing my plate away.
'good. now you need to sort out your selfishness'
I sighed and wheeled into my room, grabbing two packages in there, and wheeling into the bathroom.
I knew almost every language, but people think I just know English.
"estúpido!" I whispered to myself.
"inprudente! vil! egoista!" Blood poured down from the self made cuts.
I could FEEL the voice smiling in my head. I cut about eight times each arm.
I wrapped my forearms in bandages, and put on a long-sleeved hoodie. I sighed.
'THAT STILL DOESN'T COST FOR THE LIVES YOU POISONED WITH YOU EXISTENCE!"
I looked into the mirror. My rainbow sunglasses stared back at me.
I ripped off them. One eye was like how it was supposed to be, but, the other...
had an iris. No pupil, just an iris.
And it was blood red.
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I'm not gonna stop, but back story:
When a country starts to get depression and/or anxiety, they get a iris or two, depending onhow bad their condition is. A depression iris is light red. A anxiety iris is black. If they haveboth, but just one iris, they have a blood red iris. If they have both, and two irises, one is light red, and one is black.
Their eyes are supposed to be all white.
America's iris:
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(sorry its bad quality, its pencil and paper!) please don't use my drawing without my permission and credit!
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Canada's POV
I hear crying.
I look around the table at my family. They didn't react, if the heard it.
I got up. "excuse me."
I walked to America's room, expecting him to be there. He wasn't in there.
Until I heard a soft sob coming from the closed bathroom door.
I open it a crack.
I see America there, crying. His eyes were closed, as he was trying to stem the flow of tears with a piece of toilet paper.
"Ame?" I asked, opening the door all the way.
He whipped on his sunglasses, and wheeled around, smiling. "Hi, Canada!"
Tear marks shone on his cheeks.
"Are you crying?" I asked, then mentally hit myself in the face. Of course he was crying!
"No!" He said, "why would- oh yeah. I'm stupid."
He motioned to the tear streaks.
"why were you crying?" I asked.
"I-... I had a really bad stomach ache, and I couldn't eat!" He answered, a little wince on his face.
"Okay.." Something was off. But I let it go, as I walked out of the bathroom.
