This is my first fanfiction, so please don't be angry if it's not good. D: Also, please review, I need to know what I did wrong (in a nice way c: )and what I did right. Thanks. ~Brambleface.

Canada watched in fascination as the blood ran down his wrist. He had made about ten short, deep gashes across his wrists. He prepared to make another gash when suddenly the door to his room burst open. He dropped the razor and quickly pulled the sleeves of his red hoodie down so that the gashes wouldn't be noticed. America stood in the doorway,

"Sup Canadia-what are you doing in the corner?"

"N-nothing...just, um...looking at the walls..."

"That's a weird habit...anyway, want to go to the movies or something?"

"N-no thanks America, I just want to...go to bed!" he faked a yawn and acted tired. "Yep, need to get some sleep..."

"You okay dude? You're acting weird...weirder than usual..."

"I-I don't know what y-you're talking about..."

Canada stood up, and discreetly kicked the razor under the dresser hoping that America didn't notice.

"Dude, what was that scraping noise?"

"What scraping noise?"

"That one ju- never mind..." America obviously didn't want to seem crazy in front of anyone so he just pretended that it didn't happen.

Canada walked over to America, so watcha doin?"

"I was going to see if you wanted to do something with me but okay then, if you're that tired..."

"Yep, just want to sleep..."

"Um...okay then, see you tomorrow!"

"Don't bet on it..."

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing at all..."

"Alright, see you later!"

As soon as Canada closed the door, he let the fake smile drop off his face. He walked back over to the dresser and laid down on his stomach to get the razor out from under it. He sat on his bed with it, and pulled the sleeves back up and cut the lacerated wrists a few more times before putting the razor to his throat. He had nothing left to live for. He plunged in straight in, wanting his life to be gone as quickly as possible.

America decided that he should check on Canada again, he thought he heard another noise coming from his room. He opened the door again, just as the razor was penetrating Canada's throat.

"CANADIA, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

Canada's only response was to look apologetically at America "I'm sorry...just...couldn't...take it..."

Canada paled and then fell over, unconscious from blood loss. America lunged forward and picked up his brother bridal style and rushed him out of the room and to the car. He fumbled with the keys and the lock and put Canada in the back seat, trying his best to make sure that he wouldn't fall off the seats during the ride. He jumped into the driver seat and started the ignition and drove like a mad-man ((Which he was)) to the hospital. When opened the back door...Canada was gone... One of the windows was smashed. America broke. He sat down on the concrete with his back against the tire. When someone asked if he was okay, he didn't even notice them.