Depressed Hetalia/Worst Nightmares

September 11 Special: Nobody's Hero

Today is September 11. The ninth month, the eleventh day.

America sat further back into the corner of his bedroom, covering his ears. He could still hear the bombs, the explosions, the jets, the people screaming...oh, the innocent people....

America jammed his fingers into his ears, but he still heard the explosions. He slammed his head on a wall, but he could still hear the buildings collapsing. He screamed at the top of his lungs, but it could never erase the screams of the innocent people he lost...

The hero began to cry.

"I'm sorry!" He whimpered, hugging his knees to his chest, cowering in the corner. The screams never ceased. "I'M SO SORRY!"

Shakily, the once-strong American nation stood. September 11 rendered him a coward. Even now, it scared him. It petrified him. He walked to his dresser, and every soft footstep he took sounded like a bomb going off. He dropped to his knees before he could reach his dresser, and put his face in his hands. Tears ran through the fingers that covered his eyes.

His fingers reached up to the top of his dresser; America couldn't bring himself to stand. Gripping a knife, he brought the sharp object back down to his wrist.

Blood dripped, little by little, out of him. "JUST KILL ME ALREADY! MAKE THE SCREAMING STOP!" America cried, but he was a country; he could never die...blood would just pour itself out of him, and he would sit there, staring. "I'M ALREADY SORRY! MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP!" America bawled, the knife dropping from his hand. "PLEASE! I'M BEGGING! MAKE THE SCREAMING GO AWAY!" This was tearing him apart; the strongest nation in the world...rocked by so much, but could still keep a smile on his face everyday. The hero was being ripped, limb from limb.

Oh, how he wished the screaming would stop...how he wished he could have saved people that day...