A/N: I don't own Hetalia or anything of the kind. This is my second fanfic that I wrote on a whim. It will have American and Russia together eventually. I suck at spelling for the most part and need spell check. It is darker then the other fic I wrote. Feel free to Read and review.

Chapter 1: The Rupture

It was a hot and humid day, and America was sick in bed with a fever. It also didn't help that his body felt like it was going to rip its self-apart.

"Ohhh…" America groaned in to the pillow.

He was rolling around quiet at bit, then accidentally fell of the bed with a nice resounding 'thud'. When he tried to get up he realized how much sweat drenched his clothes. America decided that is was time for him to go cool him-self off in the bath. He filled the bath half way with cold water and the rest with tepid water.

"Ahh…" he sighed as he submersed him-self into the cool refreshing water, that surrounded his hot and sticky body.

While he was in the tub he wondered how he got to be in this state.

Over the past few years his health began to diminish and has only gotten worse. The people in his government did little to help and only made things harder for him. Every day he could feel him-self get weaker. The problem was that he had no control of what was happening because he was too weak. He also could hardly put up the face, that said 'hey guys every things alright what is there to worry about'. The debt keeps piling, and he his fears of another depression looms, like a cloud that is ready to pour and cause chaos. There were so many problems, and he just couldn't solve all of them. At the state he was, he was no hero. He couldn't even save him-self. He was always trying to help others that he didn't realize that he was neglecting him-self, until it was too late. Now he was in his current condition and it wasn't getting any better.

America opened his eye slowly, the water was no longer cool so, he got out. When he was going to dry him-self, he saw his body in the mirror. His blond hair lost its shine, disheveled, and matted against his face. His face was red and he had bags under the eyes, enough that it looked like he got punched. His eyes were blood-shot, and his body, oh his body. His whole body looked disfigured, with lumps of fat sticking out in awkward places, and some places looking hollow. His skin was no longer healthy and was a sickly yellowish color. Basically, he looked like shit.

Then all of a sudden he stared to cough up blood staining the tiles with a deep crimson color.

"Argh…" he spat. "ARUGGGGGGGGGG!" he coughed some more. He felt like his flesh was burning as he withered on the floor. He wanted it to end, but it wouldn't. He could feel his body compressing and contracting. He couldn't die, but he could feel pain and what pain did he feel. He tried to gasp for air but it only came in little intervals. 'Why…' he thought "Why do I have to suffer?' he wondered. Slowly every thing faded to black. Before he could lose consciousness he saw a glimpse of his face slowly ripping apart from the skeleton that was attached to it. This was no longer the America he knew.

A/N: Sorry it is a bit short then what most people are used to weather I update or not is on how I feel. Sorry. Any words of improvement is encouraged.