Save Me.

Research.

The walk to the meeting was pretty uneventful. Iggy seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, so we didn't talk. There was something itching at the back of my mind, but I couldn't quite figure it out what it was.
~~~

~Arthur~

The meeting was actually a decent one, for once we got stuff done. I sat next to America and he remained unusually quiet. I could tell he wanted to leave. His hands kept reaching into his coat pocket, then coming out empty. I knew there was something in there, but couldn't tell what. When there was only about ten minutes left he excused himself to go to the bathroom. I watched him go, feeling perplexed; something wasn't right.

~Alfred~

I couldn't take it anymore. The feeling from earlier had closed in. It brought this new kind of numbness, that I hadn't had before. Excusing myself from the meeting, I calmly walked from the room. In the hall I all but ran to the bathroom. Behind me the door was locked.

From out of my pocket I drew a small flip knife. Without a thought I removed my jacket, dropping it to the floor. My shirt sleeve was pulled up. In three quick strokes, the knife slid across my forearm. It stung a little at first, then just felt good. Blood trickled from the three inch long marks. After a few minutes of watching it, I turned on the water. It hurt as I let it wash away the blood. From another pocket in my jacket I grabbed a roll of bandages.

With hands that had done this many times before, I bandaged my arm. When finished I pulled my sleeve back down, putting my jacket on. I turned and looked in the mirror, frowning. Quickly I turned away, exiting the small room. As I walked back to the meeting room I fidgeted with the knife in my pocket.

~~~

~Arthur~

America had spent an unusually long amount of time in the bathroom. When he returned the meeting was just ending. I was worried, he seemed off. More so than in recent days.

When everyone was beginning to leave I went over to America.

"Hey." I said, grabbing his arm. He winced and I almost let go. Something is definitely wrong. "Are you alright?" He turned to face me, a 'smile' on his face. It was by far the fakest smile I've ever seen.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

I looked at him, but knew I shouldn't pry. Reluctantly I released his arm. He looked into my eyes, his were different. There was a sadness in them. Without another word he turned and left. I watched him go.

~~~

I couldn't get the way America had looked at me out of my mind. It was late and I had been thinking about him all day. Finally I had settled down with my laptop to do some research. After what seemed like hours, but really wasn't that long, I came across a shocking news page:

"SUICIDE RATES: DRASTICALLY RISING!
Ever since the beginning of this year (2016) suicide rates in the United States of America have risen drastically. As of this year they have risen from about 346 per day to almost 600. And the numbers are still rising at a steady pace. They are devastating families, and leading to more and more depression. Like a circle the depression leads to suicide, starting the cycle over. With this many people dying, how long will it take before America crashes completely?"

A look of horror crossed my face and I was filled with dread. I needed to see America immediately. Not bothering to grab my coat, I rushed outside, hailing a taxi. When we arrived I basically threw money at the driver, running at full speed down the driveway. I banged on the door, no answer. I tried the handle, but the house was locked, he never locks his house. With fear swelling in my heart, I ran around back. Thank god the back door was unlocked. I barged in.

"ALFRED?" I yelled, running to his bedroom. The bed was empty and neatly made. I searched the entire house, before going to the bathroom near the living room. The door to it was locked.

"ALFRED!!!" I screamed, pounding my fists on the door. "PLEASE OPEN THE DOOR!" By now tears were welling in my eyes. Taking a step back, I lifted my foot and kicked the door in. Laying in a heap on the floor was Alfred. By him was a bloodied knife. The tears were now falling. I rushed forward, falling beside him. Quickly I flipped him over; under his body a crimson pool had been forming. The warm liquid oozing sluggishly from his abused wrists. Choking on sobs I grabbed the nearest towel and tore it in two. Vision blurry with salty water, I tied the two strands around his wrists.

As carefully as I could I lifted him. He was lighter than he should have been. I ran outside, putting him in the backseat of his car. After closing the door I ran back inside in search of the keys. I found them on the counter and went back to the car. I hightailed it out of the driveway and down the road, going way past the speed limit.

The next few hours were a blur. Some doctors had taken Alfred, while I tried to follow them, a sobbing mess. Someone held me back, pulling me through a waiting room to an empty exam room. They started asking me all these questions, but I just wanted to be with Alfred. At one point France showed up, a very bad expression on his face.

"Oh Arthur," He said, "I'm so sorry." He opened his arms and I rushed over, sobbing loudly. He held me tightly, soothingly rubbing my back.

"Is he alright?" I asked, once I had calmed down. "When can I see him?"

France pulled away slightly, studying my face. "Yes, he woke up a few minutes ago."

Hope flickered in my eyes.

"I can take you to him now." He told me. I wiped my eyes and nodded.

I followed him down a series of hallways to a white room. The only sound coming from it was the beeping of the heart monitor. France nodded and walked off, leaving me alone. Taking a deep breath I pushed open the door. On the bed, in a blue hospital gown, laid Alfred. His glasses were on his pale face. Both of his arms had been heavily bandaged and were attached to various machines and liquids.

He turned to look at me and his expression made me burst into tears once again.

"I knew you cared." He said, voice hoarse and raspy.
~~~
Word count: 1,128

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