The Silencing

The World Meeting

Some people think that the truth can be hidden with a little cover-up and decoration. But as time goes by, what is true is revealed, and what is fake fades away.

- Ismail Haniyeh

____--==***==--____

The meeting room was buzzing with energy. The room was large and airy, with plenty of space for the eccentric countries that are slowly filling it. Most of the personified nations were chatting in small groups, since the meeting won't start for another ten minutes or so. Everyone knows nothing will get done, but they still come, hoping for a change of pace. But in vain, considering the people who come to the meeting.

Like America, for example. Who has casually stalking by the snack table for the seventh time now. On the table was an assortment of crackers, cheeses, and such. The blonde strode by and snatched as many crackers possible and stuffed them into his jacket. He chuckled to himself, thinking no one noticed. Even though the one and only China was face palming as he watched the American idiot. By the food was a neat stack of papers, labeled, important. America decided to grab one and at least skim through the boring paper. He took his glasses and pushed them up, pulling his bangs back in the process. 

The paper consisted of a list of rules England decided that every nation should follow during meetings. Most of the rules were pure common sense, and belonged in a third grade classroom. America rolled his eyes and stuffed the paper in his pocket. He's been forced to read those rules enough times. America strolled over and plopped himself down next to his favorite brother, Canada. Canada was gently patting England's back, but quietly greeted his brother in the process. America passed his polite brother one of his stolen crackers, and gave him a look that read along the lines of, What's wrong with Iggy?

Canada only shrugged, his face etched with worry.

France, who was on the other side of the depressed Brit, saw the silent exchange between the two brothers. And having to watch them do this for as long as that man makes people learn a few things. France stood up and leaned against England, chuckling.

"What's got you in such a bad mood, mon ami? I thought you used to look forward to World Meetings." France asked, poking England's cheek.

England was burrowing his face in his arms while leaning on the large table. When he answered France, all France could hear was muffled grunts. "Speak up, you black sheep." The Frenchman complained. "Not even my genius can understand you like that."

England slowly sat up, glaring at France. "I said," He grumbled. "It's none of your business, idiot." His cheek was red from pressing down on his textured sleeve, and his untamed golden hair didn't help his appearance.

"Oh please," France snorted. "Obviously something's bothering you. But what could possibly bring you down on this bright, beautiful day?"

"It's raining, Francis. We're in bloody England." England said curtly. 

France frowned. "Okay... well, I mean, you have all these people around you for once. You're always in your 'sweet isolation' or whatever. Now you can actually interact with other people! Isn't that nice?" England looked around the room, considering what he said. His eyes landed on Hong Kong, who was talking with China. Then on Germany and Japan, along with Hungary. He glanced to the side where America and Canada sat, watching him. He looked back up at Francis.

"Everyone here hates me for one reason of another." England concluded. 

France just sighed. "Oh whatever, I tried." He ran off to go and see what Prussia and Spain were whispering about.