The Things I'd Rather Forget // Countryhumans AU

Ch 7: Falling Apart // The Broken One

A small warning before we start this chapter-

This chapter will contain very heavy topics about self-harm. If you are sensitive to this type of content, please skip this chapter.

Thank you, and have a nice day!

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America finally got to his hotel room and slammed the door behind him. He felt himself hyperventilate as he fell to the floor. America simply wasn't in the right shape of mind. He was shaken up and miserable. He heard the voice again.

"You idiot, you fell asleep in the middle of the meeting? Now everyone knows how indecent you are, falling asleep while everyone else is actually trying to help.

"Now everyone knows how weak you are- shaken up by a simple dream, ha!

"Everyone would be happier if you weren't there. Or- even better- if you didn't exist!"

The final one hit hard. America honestly hadn't thought of it. He was both disgusted by the idea and oddly fascinated with it. It sounded so simple. But... did the other countries really hate him that much?

"Of course they do, why else did they look so disappointed in you?"

"But what about those who were worried- I'm sure they care-"

The voice interrupted, angry, "They were worried that you had ruined the entire meeting. Did you even notice what the meeting was about?"

America didn't know, so the voice continued, "The meeting was about nuclear weapons, you dingus. And you want to know what you did while they were talking about nuclear weapons? You. Fell. Asleep. Great impression on the others, I'd say."

America felt his heart drop. That's what they were talking about? Now America felt even more disgusted with himself than before.

"I think Anna would be proud of what you've become, you monster." The voice said sarcastically.

America felt guilt consume him and he felt hot tears on his cheeks. But the voice only laughed, "Ha! You're crying?! After all you've done, you think you have the right to cry about it? Hahaha, this is all your fault. It's all your fault they're dead, and your fault you're in this mess. When Texas and the others left you, they were right to do so!"

America could only sob at that. The voice was right. He had no right to cry. He had no right to be happy now that they're gone. Not when he could've saved them but didn't. America looked up, wiping away his tears. "How can I make this right?"

The voice was silent for a while until he heard the voice again, amusement in its voice, "It's simple, really. They went through so much pain, so I think it's only fair if you do, too." America felt a hand move his head to look at something. He found himself looking at the broken shards of what used to be a glass vase. He felt his heart drop as he heard the voice say, "Do it, America. Cut yourself."

America shook his head weakly, something felt wrong about this, "No this... this doesn't seem right."

"Do it."

"N-no, I-I-"

"America," The voice said sternly. "You've killed so many people in war, how is this any different? Heck, you deserve so much worse than this. You are a disgusting, ugly, scarred, cracked, closeted gay monster. You deserve all of this and worse. I wonder what your parents would think if they truly knew about all you've done. About your sexuality, your scars, and truly how many you've killed. Heck, France isn't even your real mom. Your real mom left you for dead because she knew far before anyone else that you'd be a monster. You're a monster, America

"And everyone would be better off with you dead."

America had to use every scrap of willpower to fight against those words. It didn't feel right somehow. America couldn't explain it. It was like the promise that he made to Texas was urging him on, but was that really possible? America didn't know. America readied himself for what he was about to do.

"I-" He took a deep breath and continued, "I don't want to do this. I don't know what you are- if your my stupid self-consciousness or something- but this isn't what I want. I messed up, I messed up bad, sure- but I don't want this. This- this- this won't bring them back. This won't heal the wounds I have in my heart." ....But can't it ease the pain? A voice inside of America's mind whispered. He shook his thoughts away, trying to focus on the here and now, blotting out the voice's remarks against him as well as the thoughts inside his own head.

America looked at the pile of glass and decided to get rid of the temptation. He didn't trust himself with it there. He slowly but surely picked it up, but his mind was somewhere else, fighting these temptations. A part of him wanted to do it- but the rational side of America wouldn't let him. America decided to mostly follow the rational him for now. Once he had cleaned the whole mess, he collapsed on the couch.

He was tempted to fall asleep just to torture himself when the doorbell rang.

Who could that be...?

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MMM yes.

I got a bit tired while writing this, so it's a bit short. What can you expect? I decided to redo this entire chapter and the next chapter cuz I was making things happen too fast and I want things to feel natural... ya know?

No music for this cuz I couldn't find music that fit the theme of this chapter right :/ HMMM

But,

wHo cOuLd iT Be aT tHE DoOr?

Haha, guess you'll have to find out.

Tschüss!

-Selva