Disclaimer—Hetalia belongs to its owner who is not me.
I've only watched about two thirds of the episodes, but I am almost positive this event/character will not be mentioned, so...
Super Important Note: This is how it is where I grew up-as such, I have no idea what others do/don't know about the failed rebellion of southern states. Let me know if I need to add more information, but this is a theoretical character study on a Nation and what might happen when people won't quite let him die.
It's been a long time since I had actual, physical form. Best I can manage now is a menacing presence, and only in the quiet little corners of my former country. This particular corner, one of my last victories before I was forced to succumb to that idiot, has even founded a legend on me: the "green eyes" of a lost spirit, forever searching said battlefield for something important lost in the midst of the bloody encounter.
Bastards.
There wouldn't be a monster if the stupid hicks would just leave me alone. For God's sake, most of them don't even know my Cause, but they parade around, hoisting my flag on their cars and in their houses, doing things for my glory and sometimes, sometimes they even slip up and scream "the South will rise again!" where Alfred can hear.
Hah. I wish I could see your face when your hear them, North. Your idiot face with my goddamn glasses and my goddamn country and my goddamn life!
Why did you do this to me? I wanted to make my own decisions, break away from the tyranny of an older brother. Surely you understand that? Was it so hard to let me go, the errant voices in your perfect fucking dictatorship?
Why the FUCK did you try to kill me, your own goddamn brother? AM I NOT GOOD ENOUGH TO BE MY OWN NATION, MAKE MY OWN DECISIONS?
It isn't right to keep me around, existing but certainly not living. I am a nation dead and gone, and would never have grown strong enough to support myself anyways. Why is it so hard to accept my inevitable failure-better yet, why are so many convinced that I, a failed country, a lost ideal, and a destroyed civilization, could lead them to something better? I wish I knew how this nonsense could retain enough of a following to warrant my continued presence. If I knew, I could tell Alfred, and we could fix it-or something-
No matter how many times they reenact a fucking battle, it will never change a thing. You Yankees licked us good and pretending otherwise is fuckin' STUPID! If they would just use their goddamn brains-I was dead before it even began. Hell, y'all were only ever "North" to us, y'all kept on calling yourselves "Union!"
I'm not scared of dying anymore. I'm tired, so, so tired. I am tired of being angry, I am tired of trying to revive our conflict, I am tired of fucking existing. Please, Al, just finish me off, please figure out a way-
FUCK you! I ain't surrenderin' and I ain't givin' up! Dammint, the South will Rise Again!
Make it stop...