Imperfect [Aph America Fanfiction]

Broken Buttons

I really started to notice the weight when my pants stopped buttoning right. For awhile I even went as far as putting one of those pin things in my pants, but eventually, even that didn't work. I was far too embarrassed to have to go buy new bigger pants, I mean I was Alfred fucking Jones.

I, then, started trying to lose the weight; I went everywhere. I sucked up my pride enough to even go to Arthur and Francis, which was actually a pretty shitty idea. Francis kind of held back laughs, and Arthur snidely told me "Well maybe if you didn't eat so much Alfred..."

It hurt, they were my friends and they thought it was funny. The more I worked out the harder I tried, I just gained more. I would look in the mirror and see nothing but imperfections. I don't think they understood how much I needed a friend to support me.

I started taking Arthur's advice. I wouldn't eat as much. At first, I felt lethargic and shaky; I would get a bit dizzy if I ran too much. After a few weeks I got better, though, I felt better and a lot less heavy, but yet...the weight still wasn't coming off. I gained about 3 pounds. Maybe I wasn't dropping enough food?

Two or three weeks later I weighed myself again, I started measuring everything carefully, cutting out sugars, and paying a lot of attention with my carbohydrate intake. Even then, I lost almost nothing. In all honesty...I was starting to get pissed off.

I started looking into plastic surgery and it was completely embarrassing. I walked into the office and saw the doctor, he told me everything that was wrong with me. He said my nose was too big and my face wasn't right, my stomach was too flabby and thighs were too fat. When I left there and looked in a mirror all I could see was what was wrong. At least before I thought my face was alright.

My acne scars, my fat, my face...everything...it was wrong. I was wondering right about then why everything was so disgusting about me. I couldn't see a single good thing about myself, but I didn't want anyone else to see that. They always knew me as the idiot and the confident one. I forced a smile, but that's is where everything completely changed.

I stopped eating about two days after the I saw the doctor. I didn't want to get out of bed at all. My stomach was making ungodly noises. One world meeting I got so weak partway through I had to stay quiet. I heard a few people gossiping during the meeting.

"America didn't talk much at today's meeting, but is that such a shame?" Someone whispered to one of their friends.

"Glad that Alfred's hair brained idea's weren't included today." That was someone I thought was an ally.

"Oh praise the Lord, America finally figured out we didn't want to hear it..." The thing is I was certain they wanted me to hear it.

I couldn't even fake my smile after that, I had to go to my hotel room right away. I sat there on the bed with my face in my hands, my glasses sitting next to me on the bed. I still had enough pride to not let their comments make me cry. I couldn't help it...I hated everyone...I hated everything...No...I hated myself. No one liked me, No one wanted me. I didn't want me.

I looked into the bathroom mirror, without my shirt. I kind of smiled, seeing my stomach was flattening a bit. I walked back out into the bedroom part of the place and undid my pants. What do you know? No more broken buttons...