World meetings. Something Alfred grew to hate, something he found to be a waste of his time. He could be doing better things...like working out and running. He didn't see the point of getting up earlier and flying out to wherever it may be, only to face them. Them...with their judgmental eyes and venomous voices. Them...his fellow nations, his friends and those who were once enemies. Them...those closest to his heart who didn't realize, didn't see how their poison filled words tore him apart...how their words carved and dug themselves in his mind and grew a rotting tree with thorny branches.
And yet..he hid all the pain and continued on with his day. He continued on despite the insults that day, the apparently innocent jabs at his weight, at how stupid he was, at his country, at how he couldn't pay attention. At everything....every little last flaw. But he couldn't pay attention, his head was swimming with thoughts. Dangerous and negative thoughts. He needed to get out...he needed get away. As soon as the meeting was dismissed he ran to his car. He sped to his home...his safety point. The one place he could take of the porcelain mask of the hero figure he claimed to be. But it wasn't enough....he needed a distraction. Something to help take away the building pain that wrapped around his heart. The pain that threatened to crush him.
So he ran...he sprinted. He continued running through the busy streets of the city. Passing people with laughing and smiling faces. He passed those who stared at him...all of them judging him. Looking at him because he was fat...because he was ugly and worthless. 'Look it's that fat American kid...I wonder how many burgers he ate today.' He thought bitterly to himself. They had to be thinking that...it was what everyone else thought. His lungs begged and pleaded for air, his body dizzy and exhausted from the seemingly endless running. Alfred suddenly turned into an alleyway...and ducked behind a dumpster. His head pounded and he felt like throwing up, emptying his stomach if whatever he had eaten. He leaned against the cool brick wall of the building as he tried to kept his breath, as he shakily inhaled and exhaled. And all at once he started crying...it came out in choked sobs, as his eyes became bloodshot and tears streamed down his sweaty face. It hit him all at once....he was worthless. No one cared. No one knew. He was just a complication....a unfixable complication.
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The Breaking Point
FanfictionEveryone has a breaking point. And Alfred Jones, the personification of America, never thought he would have reached his. Maybe it was the of the insults that he used to brush off as a joke. Maybe it was his poor economy and how the people of his co...
