Writing For All

"Choices" edit

I forgot on Thursday, sorry. To my defense, I had exams this week.

Today we have an edit for an exert of Choices by Ivvy (me).

The alarm went off at six.

Was it already that time? He didn't exactly remember falling asleep. The desk at his bedside held a blurry folder with a scramble of papers inside. That's right, he remembered. He'd finished at about two-thirty and put the folder there before he must have fallen asleep.

He felt the knots pull out of his hair as his hand searched for his glasses. He was wearing them when he fell asleep, he was sure of it. His hand ran over his face before falling to his side.

It took him a moment before he realized that the cool object under his fingers was the very thing he was searching for. He lifted the frames to his eyes. Lowering them again he tugged on the edge of his shirt, wiping away the dust and prints that clouded the lenses. Sliding the glasses on, the edges and lines of his room coming into focus.

He pushed the blankets off as his legs slid out of his bed. It took him a moment to remember all of last night. The anxious lost feeling he remembered had somewhat left him now. Amazing what some sleep did for a person.

Stumbling from his bed, his feet slid through the carpet of his room. He made his way to the bathroom where he showered and dressed himself.

Downstairs America collected his suit jacket, leaving his bomber jacket behind on behalf of the warm spring day. A few folders crammed with papers were packed into a bag. He didn't stop at the kitchen. There was hardly anything in the cabinets and even if there was, he wouldn't eat any of it. He'd never loose weight by eating. He was too fat. That's what everyone else said. He was never good enough, never-

Stop.

His eyes were held closed tight. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths.

You can't do this right now, he lectured himself. You're going to go to he meeting. You can feel sorry for yourself later.

His breathing regained it's normal pace when his eyes opened once again. Sliding on his jacket and swinging his bag over his shoulder, America locked the front door behind him before he walked to his car. The engine started with a muffled roar that he'd grown accustomed to. Pulling out of park, he left his driveway and made his way into the city and to the dreaded meeting.

The bustling noises of the city were muffled from inside the building. America traveled down the hallway, stopping in front of the conference room. He tried to summon enough energy to act as his 'normal' self but couldn't find anything. He let out a deep sigh and turned the door knob as the door opened silently. He door clicked shut before America turned around.

"America?"

America jumped at the voice. In front of him was the long conference table filled with the different nations of the world. At the head of the table stood Germany. America expected him to look angry. He looked down to his watch. Five minutes late. He sighed.

"Sorry I'm late," he said loud enough for everyone to hear him, before he took his seat. America was confused when no one started to speak. His head lifted to see all eyes focused on him. "What?" Did I forget something?

"Are you okay, America?" He looked beside him to see Canada looking at him concerned.

"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You seem a bit.... off," Germany added.

"I'm fine," America said immediately, not stopping to think if it was really the truth or not.

The meeting continued after that as usual. At some point America regained the smile everyone knew him for. The meeting ended just before twelve. America made his way from the room when the meeting ended.

Outside was a warm day. One that made America want to do nothing. Just take a walk through the city or over at the park. Something wouldn't let him enjoy it, though. A nagging feeling that seemed to weigh him down. Of course, he knew he had work to do. No matter what he did, it always seemed like there was more things to take care of.

With a heavy sigh, America turned away and found his car again. The drive home seemed to take longer than usual.

At home, his bag fell from his shoulder to the couch where he collapsed next to it. His eyes drifted close for a moment, sleep slowly beginning to wash over him. That is, until the phone rang. He let out a deep breath before answering. A single press to the earpiece answered the call.

"Yes?" He asked tiredly.

"America? You okay?" The German voice sounded worried. Something America didn't really need to hear at the moment.

"I'm fine. What's up Prussia?"

There was silence for several seconds. America considered hanging up so he could go to sleep. "You doing anything tomorrow, after the meeting?"

America considered his answer. Besides the mountain of papers and other problems he had to deal with? "Not really. Why?"

"I was thinking we could go do something. We can get some lunch or- Nein. West, stop. I'm on the phone."

America smiled. He could just hear Germany, though he couldn't make out his words.

"West, nein. Germany, wait until I'm done. I swear, you are still such a little kid. Sorry about that, America."

"That's fine. You were saying?"

"What was I saying?" He muttered. "Oh, yeah! I was wondering if you'd like to do something. Like get lunch or go somewhere or something tomorrow after the meeting."

"That sounds good. Mind me asking, why?"

"Well, I guess I was just kind of um.... well, I was thinking-"

"I could show you 'round New York, if you like," America offered.

"Great!" America cringed at the sudden volume change of his voice. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

"See you then, Prussia."

His hand pressed his earpiece once more before removing it from it's place entirely and setting it down on the small table beside the couch.

His head fell to lay on the arm of the couch, sinking into the soft fabric.

Sleep. That's what he needed. He'd feel better if he got some sleep.