What's On The Inside Matters

Forgot about Wattpad... Sorry

Sorry its late, random burst of inspiration. Sorry for the lack of updates... I am SUPER sorry... I'm gonna mass produce chapters and finish this, after that I'm gonna edit this like it's the end of the world and change a bunch of stuff so be prepared ^^ TO DAS STORY

3rd Person POV:

England cuts himself.

England cuts himself.

England cuts himself.

That was a thought he couldn't get out of his head.

England cuts himself.

Damnit! Why did he have to figure this out now? When there was only a few hours left on this earth for him? He needed to tell someone to look at the frames, the frames containing such horrible secrets that could maybe be fixed.

3rd Person POV II:

He woke with a start, lunging forward in the red and white bed. He was covered in a cold sweat, but he didn't care as long as he made sure his brother was alright. He quietly sprinted down the hall of his brother's house and looked into his room. There was nothing but a neatly made bed and a note on the calendar. World meeting 8:00 don't be late Al. He exhaled happily, the stiffness of his shoulders loosening slowly. His brother was ok. He was ok. His death was just a nightmare. It was just one horrible nightmare. Nobody found out about his secret. Nobody pitied him. And nobody knew about how he killed his little brother for not accepting his opinion. Not even Mattie knew. And he never will. Maybe the dream had been a glimpse of the future or Mattie was planning to kill himself.

He ran to his room, going through his daily routine, avoiding the kitchen as he left the house at 7:46. The meeting was in his own country and he didn't notice the rain until it hit him like a pile of bricks. He shivered and continued his way to the meeting, dodging people's umbrellas and avoiding puddles to the best of his ability. He had a determined frown on his face as he made his way to the tall skyscraper. He noticed a Union Jack umbrella through the crowds, but continued running. He knew England was still jet-lagged and frustrated with the people most likely shoving him around. He took a sharp turn left and ran into the familiar building. The elevator doors were surrounded by businessmen and would likely be of no use to him, if he wanted to be on time that is. He started up the stairs and groaned at how heavy his legs felt. He had 9 flights of stairs to walk up and started skipping 3 steps each time. He needed to lose weight anyways.

The familiar door was slightly ajar, showing the multitude of flag-decorated umbrellas, including a Union Jack. England mush have taken the elevator. He sighed quietly as water fell on his nose from his hair. That was going to bug him the entire meeting. He headed to the door, hearing muffled but audible voices. Most were directed at him and he frowned before putting up his mask. His 1000 watt Hollywood smile. He thought about running back to his apartment to watch Markiplier or Jacksepticeye, but decided against it. The countries would probably come up with more insults if he did. Too fat to get out of bed? He was probably annoying someone all night and fell asleep. He was probable too dense to even realize that there was a meeting today, that git. His brain supplied him with examples and his smile dimmed slightly before returning. It was too wide and he looked too happy for it to be real. Pushing the door open, he decided against making it his usual flashy entrance and just headed to his spot next to Canada. At least he had his brother.

"That won't due. I'm tired of living. And you are no example to abide by. I can finally be... free..."

He flinched slightly at the memory from his nightmare and excused himself to the bathroom. He saw Canada look up at him in confusion, but returned to watching the fight between France and England.

He was curled up in the corner of the bathroom, shaking and taking quick, rapid breaths. He tried to put a smile on his face, but was unable to. Not even the smallest twitch. The doorknob jiggled and he stiffened. The doorknob stopped moving before it was unlocked and a nimble figure with a bear entered, looking around until he locked eyes with his brother. He frowned sadly before heading over and ghosting over him. America looked up, tears brimming in his eyes. He reached for his brother, but his hand phased through him. A few tears spilled over.

Why did you let me die? It was just a nightmare.

This is the nightmare. No...

Why didn't you save me? You're a hero, aren't you? I'm not sure anymore.

If you were a hero, you would be a horrible one. Just like you are a horrible brother. That's not true... Right?

You are a monster who kills. You've killed your only brothers. I didn't mean to. I was forced to...

That's just a lie to make yourself feel better. No it's not. It's not.

Everybody hates you. You're a monster. No they don't...

Nobody would care if you killed yourself. England would... So would Japan and...

They only pity you for being lonely. They only tolerate you. They care... I think...

They can't wait until that annoying American is gone. I'm not trying to annoy them... I just don't want to be alone.

Everyone would be happy if you put a bullet through your brain. Or maybe a few cuts to the wrists or neck. A noose would be alright too. Will it set me free?

You'll be free from the torment, and they'll be free of you. Maybe it's for the best. If I just die.

Of course, it would only help if you were gone. They would throw a party. What would happen to me?

They would burn your body so they wouldn't have to lay their eyes on such an ugly monster. Can I really die if I'm a country?

Never give up. I promise I'll save the world from me.

Go for a bullet. It'll make it quick. I want it to be painful and slow.

Cut your wrists then. Long painful gashes with that military knife in your jacket. I don't want to ruin my jacket so I'll put it to the side, it'll be for the next personification if they want it.

Hopefully they'll be better than you if you succeed at killing yourself. I hope so too.

His favorite number is zero. Zero means nothing. Not positive nor negative. It's empty. One meant that it was one better than nothing "I'm the hero!" "I'm number one!" In reality, he was nothing. The number zero. Maybe he shouldn't, but on the other hand, he wanted to become nothing.

He raised the blade to his skin and woke up.